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satorena · 5 months

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❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ! ❞

꒰ FEATURING ! ꒱. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, n. kento x afab!reader

꒰ CONTENT WARNINGS ! ꒱. cybersex, camgirl!reader, facetiming, onlyfans account, dirty talking, usage of toys, reader wears lingerie, fingering, anal play, consented video taping, feminine pet names, let’s pretend toji has money okay? okay.

RENA’S NOTE. big shoutout to my dawgs @screampied ! would’ve suffered a bad writer’s block if not for them <3 ly pooks

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

“yeah baby~ fuck, arch your back just like that—shit!”

you complied to his request, moaning as you arch your back and push your hips backwards, deepening the angle of which your dildo penetrated inside of you.

from your facetime call, you faced the camera and propped your dildo to the wall behind you. you watched as your ass recoiled like waves, flesh bouncing off the wall in hypnotic motions, giving your boyfriend the pov he demanded at the start of this call.

you watched through your laptop screen as your boyfriend held his cock tightly with one hand, his other hand propped at the back of his head. his stomach clenched tightly as he matched your pace with his jerks. your wet squelches filled the atmosphere followed by your moans, arms stretched out to claw at the silk sheets on your bed.

“mmh—fuck baby, wish you were h-here right now,” you whine, bringing your fingertips to your lolled out tongue, coating the digits with your saliva, before slipping them between your thighs to focus on your neglected clit.

drawing figure eights to the bundle of nerves, your cheek smushed against the mattress, face heating and tears streaking down your cheeks.

bottom lip tucked in his teeth, gojo narrows his cerulean eyes to zero in on your figure, the sounds of your creamy pussy rocking back and forth on your dildo, your teary eyes watching him with such want— and fuck if he doesn’t wish this conference meeting overseas would end so he could blow your back out.

“i know, ‘m sorry— hah, princess,” he whines, thumbing his leaking slit as the hand behind his hair starts to grip at his own locks. the stinging feeling reminded him of you and it only turned him on further.

“just a f—few more days, yeah? and i’m all yours, promise baby, wait out for me,” he prods further, upset at the fact he has to reach out to you virtually. even behind the low quality of your camera, you shone like an angel sent from heaven, lashes wet with tears and your lips glistening from your smeared gloss.

you nod your head, before fluttering your eyes close as your gut begins to coil. your limbs grow hot and limp, toes curling and you up the pace of your rocking, the drag of the customized silicone dildo against your velvety walls stretching you in ways that reminded you an awful lot of your boyfriend.

“toru—fuck, i’m cumming!” you arch your back deeper, chest pressed flat against the mattress, fingernails scratching the softness of your sheets.

gojo had been on the brink of an orgasm eons ago, but he held back for you. to him, nothing beat busting a nut at the same time you did. his snowy white hair matted to his forehead, cheeks flushed a pretty red as he now focuses on his stiff cock with two firm hands.

he mimics circular motions you usually do, fighting to keep his eyes open as his orgasm washes over him just from the sight of your cries alone. your body shudders, your own orgasm washing over you from head to toe as you mewl out his name, spraying your juices all over the wall behind you and down your plush thighs.

your back arches outwards and you’re drooling all over yourself but gojo doesn’t think he’s seen anything prettier in his entire life.

“shit—oh fuck, cum for me princess, make a mess all over—ngh, yourself for me—my perfect fuckin’ girl.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“welcome back everyone~”

there was something terribly sinful in the way the girl currently clothed in skimpy lingerie, fingers rubbing at her pussy in lazy circles with a dildo to her lips, tip of the toy teasingly grazing at her pink tongue—was also the same girl toji paid money to babysit his kid whenever he was away at work.

toji was no good man. this was definitely wrong on many personal levels, but alas he was still a man, if the way his dick hardened painfully quick at the sound of your honeyed voice alone.

he shifts in his chair, leaning back into it as he palms his hard on through his sweats. he watches with narrowed green orbs as you finally swallow the silicone toy down your throat, the dildo lubed in your saliva whenever it came out of contact from your mouth.

“wishin’ it was your fat cock instead, mmh,” you swirl your tongue around the dildo, before arriving to the tip and latching your plump lips around it.

you simultaneously increase the speed at your folds, fingers soon growing sticky with your essence as the obscene wetness fills the room. you moan around the toy, spreading your lips for the camera while clenching around nothing.

dick long freed from his pants and tucked tightly in his fist, toji groans as he watches your pretty pussy flutter and basically beg for him to fill you up. he hacks up some spit and drips it down on his girthy length, before roughly going back to jerking at his dick.

“i wonder which one of my lucky viewers is gonna get to fuck me next live?” you breathlessly giggle, before lowering the dildo in your free hand to your gaping cunt.

your comments flood with praises and pleasantries, with money flowing in easily—anything to capture your attention and have you notice them. they’re desperate, toji thinks, but realizes he’s definitely no better—hands already moving to donate a much bigger sum than whatever pussydestroyer69 could ever offer you.

“ooh, four bills is a hefty amount,” you tilt your head to the side, your pretty lips stretched in a perfect smile. you giggle when the comments start to insult toji but he’s too far enamoured in the way your free hand now travelled to your breast, groping at the mounds and flicking at your stiff buds.

you return to the regular programming, pressing the tip of your dildo to your cunt, dragging it up and down your wet folds, teasing yourself with your legs spread open for the viewers to see.

“fuck— this feels amazing, mmh, ‘m sooo sensitive,” you whine, applying a small amount of pressure to slightly push the tip in but pull it back out.

this was torturous— your thong pushed to the side to reveal your puffy lips as it leaked your essence. toji let his mind run to how badly he wanted to taste you. he was sure you’d be as sweet as honey, a potent taste on his tongue, and the thought of you face down with your ass up, begging for him to eat you out had his balls tightening with eagerness.

“fuckin’ shit— what a tease.” toji grunts, throwing his head back as he rubs the callouses at his palms against his veiny skin. his hips jerked up in anticipation, feeling his limbs run hot while his thumb circled at his reddened tip.

“y’wanna fuck my gaping pussy? yeah, ‘m all wet and tight just for you— hnng, bet i’d have you cumming quicker than you ever had~” you taunt, and finally push the toy all the way in, moaning at the stretch of the toy at your pussy.

your toes curl and you tighten your hold at your tits, slowly thrusting the dildo in and out of your cunt, the slick sound of the friction enticing toji as he matches your pace, fanged teeth biting down at his bottom lip.

you pout your bottom lip, small whines escaping your throat as you fuck yourself desperately. “feels’good— shit, need you to fuck me daddy!”

call him delusional but he felt you spoke to him and not the rest of these bums, legs opened and pussy clenching down at the dripping toy, as your hips rocked upwards to try and meet the dildo for further pleasure.

the telltale of his dick twitching uncontrollably told he was on the brink of an orgasm, one that has him cursing incessantly and brings sweat to his hairline. he pries his eyes open, refusing to miss out on how your folds get abused by yourself, multitasking between thrusting inside and attacking your clit.

“‘m gonna cum daddy—please lemme cum—ngh!” you plead, and as if some force between the two of you is pulled, you spray your essence all over yourself, slick dripping down your sheets and wetting your lingerie, staining your panties soaked as toji calls out your name, hips bucking into his tight fist as ropes of hot cum are pulled out of him.

“there we go baby—damn, keep creamin’ just like that.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

“c’mon mama—don’t you let up, fuck, keep bouncin’ f’me.”

you whined some more, thighs aching and trembling from your consistent riding mixed with the added stimulation to your rim from your gifted anal plug. behind you was geto’s set up, computer camera propped as your back faced it, with geto seated at the edge of the bed.

hands planted firmly onto his chest, you stabilized yourself as you continued to rock your hips, dragging yourself up and down on his inches of dick, feeling his hardness stretch out your walls.

“sugu, ‘s too much— shit, want you to fuck me already!” you moaned, leaning your head downward to his broad shoulders, forehead slippery with sweat.

geto chuckled at your neediness, clicking his tongue as he lands a firm slap to your reddened ass. you all but moaned, hips moving back and forth as you clenched your mounds around his cock.

“but baby,” geto complains mockingly, slipping his hand in between your bodies and thumbing at your swollen clit. “y’wouldn’t wanna disappoint your fans, would ya?”

as he spoke, he glanced over your shoulder to check the comment section, as it was filled with numerous donations, praises as well as degradations. the more his viewers donated money to him, the quicker the toy plugged in your ass vibrated.

the triple stimulation had your brain gone to mush, your golden spot brutally toyed with as the foreign but pleasurable feeling in your puckered hole stretched it out, added with the circles at your bundle of nerves, sending shivers all throughout your body.

“uhn uhn,” you shake your head, all but against the idea of ruining his live stream simply because you were tired. more than anything, you wanted to cum, even if it had been in the most torturous way you could think of.

“that’s my good girl,” geto presses his lips at the crane of your head. his praise sends tingles in your belly, core licking with heat. his hands find their way to your ass cheeks, groping the soft mounds as encouragement, the actions causing a shift in the toy to be pushed slightly deeper inside of you.

“f-fuck—don’t do that, i’ll cum!” you complain, arching your chest into his, sensitive nipples brushing into his own.

the creamy mess at the base of his cock clearly accessible to the viewers sent a massive amount of money right into geto’s account and straight to your ass, as you jolted into his hold, clinging your arms around his neck.

“holy shit—one thousand?” geto asks breathlessly, followed by immediate more pinging indicating more donations. “you’re a hit baby—they fuckin’ love this pussy. too bad it’s all fuckin’ mine though, hah,”

you’re flattered by it all, and hit with a final wave of confidence before you’re sure the dam in your gut will snap, you push him back to lay on his bed. geto watches you with a cocked brow and smug smile, baby hairs messily framing his flushed skin.

“oh?” he asks, amused by the sudden turn of events. he never lets go of your hips, instead tightening his hold on you as you plant your feet to the mattress.

you hop up and down, his dick nearly slipping by how far up you rode him, with your palms pressed against the plane of his abs. feeling tears build up at your lash line, you moan and wail, dick penetrating deep into your cunt deliciously.

“fuckin’ ride this dick, ‘s all yours mama—shit, gonna make me cum all inside that pretty pussy, mmh. give it all t’me,”

it doesn’t take much between his constant praising, the slickness of your wetness around his cock and the additional vibrations to your ass to have you cumming hard around him. you clamp your walls down, momentarily pausing your riding as you let it take over your entire body.

geto comes through, hips bucking upwards to further your orgasm and you’re sure you momentarily blacked out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“what a pretty fuckin’ face baby, all mine. goddamn, ‘s too bad your biggest fan won’t get to see it— ain’t that right, satoru?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

“k-kento—oh fuck daddy, ‘s so fucking deep!”

his wrist ached as he worked his way up and down his cock, tip throbbing an angry red. he watched himself hold your waist with one grip of his hand, the other propped up to film the lewd scenery, capturing you in all your glory.

nanami maintained a steady focus, pistonning into your cunt at a ruthless pace, a ruthless angle, and judging by the sound of your broken moans, he was thrusting into that spot that had you seeing stars and slurring your words.

on the screen showed you face down with your ass up, hands bind by his tie behind your back, face planted into his bed as he fucked into you passionately. your pussy gripped onto his cock greedily, sucking him in as the ripples of your ass bounced on his pelvis.

“my perfect girl, fuck, keep taking it just like that.” his large hand held at your waist firmly, bottoming out just to pull out all the way to where your lips latched at his tip, coating his dick in your creamy essence.

his hand made it to the top of his shaft, and when the screen presented him an erotic view of both your body fluids— semen, juices, sweat— sticking between both your damp skin, where you lowered yourself on his cock and where he pushed forward to fasten the process, his thumb grazed over his slit tauntingly, the same way he’s seen you done it dozens of times.

it’d never occur to him that watching himself plow into you would turn him on so, but you were so far away and he was immensely turned on.

his button down now unbuttoned, his chest heaved up and down as he panted heavily, sliding his other hand down to cup at his balls, the way you’ve done to him so many times. he winces at the feeling, dick painfully hard as it twitches in his hold.

“holy fuck— my perfect fuckin’ girl, shit.” he groans, narrowing his eyes to focus on the hypnotic sight that had his erection crying impossibly further.

the sight of you unable to do anything but take his dick like the slut you were made to be for him had him curling his feet and thighs tremble rather quickly. your fingers twitched as you begged him to free you, to let you touch him, but all that resorted to was your ass getting slapped for your disobedience.

“behave princess.” nanami warned you while rubbing his hand at the reddened skin, and you whined a ‘m so sorry daddy but obeyed nonetheless, and whatever kink triggered in nanami activated, as he jerked off faster, desperate to chase that release.

in the video, nanami pulled his dick out momentarily, causing you to cry out at your pussy’s emptiness. lowering the camera to your abused cunt, your pink walls gaped and clenched around nothing, practically calling out for him to fill the void. he chuckles behind his phone, before grabbing at his cock and lining himself at your entrance, teasing your folds by dragging his tip up and down before bottoming out again.

“fuckin’ hell, i need you right now,” nanami cussed, wanting nothing more than to feel your warmth around his cock instead of his own hand, to feel you clamp and suck him into your pussy, to have you squirt on his cock and still beg him for more despite your sensitivity.

between the pornographic sight of your cunt clenching down on his cock, your asshole winking at him, the recoil of your ass onto him and the sinful arch of your back, nanami soon painted his fist white in his cum, head thrown back as he was overtaken by an orgasm.

“damn it—shit, just like that princess—keep gripping onto me, gonna fill that pretty pussy full of my cum.”

yes, gojo was the generous donator on geto’s live stream. pervert

#stargirl★rena.#www.tumblr.com/satorena #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji smut

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mostly-imagines · 1 month

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Guard Dog

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

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secretstime · 11 months

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bokutosbiceps · 4 months

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jell-o shots

eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar law/vinsmoke sanji x afab!reader | slight smut/fluff | ~900 words

warnings: suggestive/18+ themes, mild cursing ?

a/n: i was listening to one of my fav podcasts (the basement yard) n they were talking about how some girls use the way that guys do jell-o shots to gauge if they're good @ eating pussy. so i ran w it 😁 also def a modern au ,, thinkin bout doin more of these 🤭

18+ MDNI | under the cut for length

you can't tear your eyes away from the man across the granite kitchen island. the way his tongue shoves into the sticky jell-o, laps at the sides of the cup, and swirls around the bottom to clean up any leftover sugary alcohol has you feeling dizzy and squeezing your thighs together. as if he couldn't get any more irresistible.

maybe it was the fact that you'd already thrown back a couple of drinks. or maybe it was the fact that you'd just imagined your boyfriend’s tongue doing that to you instead. but you were feeling particularly brave, particularly needy.

he sees you watching, and you can tell that he's wondering why you're staring at him so intently. his eyes call you over, and you take a few shaky steps around the island to sidle up next to your man.

you smooth your hands over his shoulders, your nails digging into his deltoids for stability as you lean in and whisper “can you eat pussy like that?”

eustass kid bursts out laughing. it's a hearty, wry laugh that has you pushing out your bottom lip and furrowing your brow at him.

“why the hell are you laughing?” you whine, pouting at him.

kid glances at you out of the corner of his eye, picking up another jell-o shot and repeating his ritual. he enjoys the feeling of your hold on his bicep tightening, and how you subconsciously press yourself further into him.

he lets his eyes travel further down to where he can see you rubbing your thighs together, and he feels a familiar hunger starting to burn in the pit of his abdomen.

once the cup is left pristinely crystal clean, he snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. you can feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear and he huffs out another laugh.

“i wanna see you get on your knees and beg, doll.”

monkey d luffy blinks at you, a small smile stretching across his lips as he realizes what you had whispered to him.

“you mean can i eat you out? yeah! you wanna?” luffy chirps, picking up another jell-o shot and practically vacuuming out the sugary alcohol in one go. you watch, feeling like your legs are going to give out.

luffy grabs your waist with his arm to help prop you up against him. he's still grinning at you, eyes searching yours for any affirmation of what he had asked.

he pinches your side playfully and presses a kiss to your clavicle, then rests his head on top of yours, happy to be enjoying the party with you. but now there's something else he'd rather be enjoying, and he's still waiting for your answer.

so you nod, a movement so slight you’re worried that luffy wouldn't notice. but then luffy’s scooping you into his arms and running upstairs with you cradled to his chest, searching for any open bedroom or bathroom he can use to indulge in his favorite meal.

roronoa zoro straightens up slightly, pushing his nose into the air and looking at you out of the corner of his eye. his lips are set in a firm frown as he studies you for a bit, and then they’re stretching into a sly smirk.

he doesn't say anything, just backs you into the counter behind you and grips your waist with both of his hands. he leans in closer to you, pressing his cheek against yours. you can feel his thigh pressing against the seam of where your own thighs are clenched together, prying them apart.

you shudder at the way zoro’s hot breath is wafting across your neck, and you about explode when he presses a warm, wet kiss to the nape of your neck. he rests his face in the crook of your neck and you can feel his lips smile against your skin.

“you wanna find out?”

trafalgar d water law scoffs at you, wrinkling his nose and setting the empty cup down on the island.

“are you drunk?” he asks lowly, noticing how you're gripping so tightly onto his arm. you squeeze your thighs together once again when you feel his warm breath fan across your face and his hazy, grey eyes bore into yours.

“no.” you purse your lips, pressing yourself further into him. “i just…need you right now.” you give him a pointed look, feeling your cheeks heat up as you glance back down at the cup. he follows your gaze and snorts a chuckle out through his nose.

how could he resist you when you were so cute, being so desperate for him?

“come with me.” law rubs the small of your back and allows you to lean on him as he guides you through the party and upstairs. “let me take care of you.”

vinsmoke sanji is flabbergasted. the empty cup falls from his fingers and onto the counter. he's staring at you, wide eyed and blushing.

you shift uncomfortably under his stare, wondering if maybe you'd made a mistake, come on too strong perhaps. but your train of thought is quickly derailed when sanji grabs your hands and presses them to his chest.

“you mean it, princess?” sanji asks you, his eyes shining. his pupils are practically heart shaped as he beams at you, hands trembling as they held yours against his palpitating heart.

“mhm. right now.” you say softly, giving him a coy smile. you blink, and suddenly you're in sanji’s arms and he’s making a beeline for the nearest bedroom. sanji’s on a mission to serve you like the princess you are, party be damned.

taglist: @usoppsstar | @luffysprincess | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup | @kingofthe-egirls

#one piece #one piece smut #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid #monkey d luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #kid x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #law x reader #sanji x reader

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hyunsvngs · 5 months

Text

𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 - lee minho x fem!reader

wc: 5.8k

cw: this is a piss fic, you have been warned - don't like don't read, established d/s dynamics in a relationship, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: your boyfriend has something he wants to try in bed. you didn't expect to like it so much.

a/n: like i said before this is a piss fic, if you don't like don't read! thank u to the sweet girl who commissioned this & thank u to my babies may and nessa for proofreading and also my ems <3 i was super nervous about this so i hope u like <3 smut warnings ofc under cut

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sw: PISS, established d/s dynamics, dom!minho, sub!reader, subspace, SERIOUSLY THERE’S PISS, face fucking, oral (m rec), very negotiated kink, minho calls reader a plethora of pet names, nipple play, one (1) face slap, minho’s condescending and MEAN, choking, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, squirting, reader calls minho sir briefly, brief aftercare but more offscreen!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s always daunting when Minho gets like this. You know exactly what’s going to go down tonight - you’ve discussed it extensively. You always have to discuss it extensively. Minho is nothing if not a good dom, and there’s rules and regulations that you have to adhere to, even if he is your boyfriend.

It still catches you off guard. He paces across the room to your shared wardrobe, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and exposing his veiny forearms. You’re perched on the bed, the exact way he told you to be in your plain black underwear. The fresh sheets are a welcome coolness on your warm skin. You’re overheating in excitement. You can’t wait.

He’s going to piss on you tonight. He’s going to piss on you tonight, or maybe even in you, he’d said - he wanted to make you well and truly messy. Just the way he liked you. He told you he’d be mean, maybe even meaner than normal, and you’d agreed to it all before climbing into his lap and begging him to take you on the flimsy dining table chair in your kitchen in all of your excitement. He had chuckled, brushing a hand over your head with a teasing little “you want it that bad, huh?”. He still fucked you, so your plan went as hoped.

“I want to talk to you about something before we start, jagi,” His voice is smooth, low in volume, yet you hear every word loudly. You nod in response, and he turns and blinks at you, slow and cat-like. Oh, yeah. You were forgetting yourself already.

You blush in embarrassment of how far gone you are already, and he smiles, soft and barely noticeable. Fond. “Yeah, Min?”

The blush only continues to spread when he finally, finally climbs onto the bed next to you. He’s still in his work clothes, shirt tight on his broad pecs and his trousers tight on his thighs. You try not to stare. You fail, and he chuckles, using two fingers to prop your chin up to look directly at his eyes.

“This scene is a little harder than the other ones we’ve done,” He looks at you. It would feel scrutinising, the way he’s sizing you up, but his eyes are so full of fondness you can’t feel perceived at all - only admired. “I’m a little worried you may fall into subspace. Do you know what that is?”

He’s using his dominant voice on you, you swear. The tone of voice that’s level, not quite monotone but very, very straightforward and firm. Almost strict. It makes you rub your thighs together in need. Your boyfriend is so sexy when he’s like this.

A quick scratch to your chin has you blinking back into reality. Yes. “Yes, I do know what that is. I’ve never done that before though, have I? So I probably won’t now, and-”

“We don’t know that,” He’s firm when he cuts you off, but presses a kiss to your nose nonetheless. “I need to know if you’re okay with me continuing if I notice you getting all floaty, jagi. I won’t if you don’t want me to. This is all in your hands, yeah? You know you run this show.”

He chuckles, lightening the mood, but he’s right. When Minho first introduced you to this, you realised very quickly that despite the dominant being physically in charge, it was definitely the submissive that held the reins. It’s hard giving yourself over to someone so viscerally - it’s a vulnerable state to be in, letting someone decide your limits and decide what’s best for you.

Despite that, you’d let Minho fuck you outside in six foot snow, so you were definitely down for being fucked in subspace.

“Yes. Yeah, I want you to- I think it’d be hot, I think,” You’re babbling already, and Minho smiles again, his teeth glinting in the low light of your lamp. “I think it would be hot if you carried on, and I was like- all fuzzy, and stuff. You know?”

It’s silent for a beat, and then he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Cute. Remember I love you, jagi, okay?”

Oh. Oh, you were starting? He normally only said that before you started, and before you can question him, he’s pressing his mouth against yours firmer, harder. It’s messy, the way he dominates your mouth instantly and uses one hand to tangle in your hair, yanking your hair back. You whimper against his lips, and he bites your bottom lip in response, finally moving to press you down to the bed with him on top of you. He starts to trail kisses down your face and your neck, and you can't help but let out a small noise of excitement. Before you can beg him to leave his mark on you, he quickly moves back up to your lips and starts to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth in an act of possession. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer, feeling yourself getting a lot more than just worked up.

His chest is muscled, the slightly toned soft muscle that only makes sense on Minho. He’s not heavy on top of you, only a presence where he licks and sucks into your mouth until you’re leaking into your panties. He pulls away, his lips dropping to your neck, and you can’t be anything more than pliant the way you let him use your skin and mark you as his. You are his. Mentally, emotionally, physically - any way he wants you, you’ll let him.

“I love this body,” Minho groans, his voice low and gravelly. “Such a filthy fucking body. You’re gonna let me piss on it, aren’t you?”

You whine, loud and unabashed, and Minho chuckles. It’s a puff of air against the exposed column of your neck and your hips cant up, searching for friction.

“Oh, you are,” His hand moves down to your bra, searching through the lace for your pebbled nipple. The lace is thin, pitch black and almost sheer, and a grin forms on his face when he manages to pinch your nipple meanly. “Look at how excited you are for it. Your nipples are so hard, are you that excited for my piss?”

You try to nod in response, but a quick slap against your cheek using his spare hand has you reeling to try and form words. You’re babbling before you can even think. “Y-Yes! Yes, Minho, I’m excited. I can’t wait, I wanna- I wan’ taste it, will you let me? Please?”

He hums in consideration, yanking down the cups of your bra to expose your tits to him. He was right - your nipples are hard and pebbled, dusky against your flesh, and he ducks down to engulf one in his mouth. His lips are full, plush like pillows, and his tongue darts around your nipple in small kitten licks. Soft, wet, warm. Pliant. His.

Minho’s bunny teeth are quick to bite at the peak, and you whine, back arching up to get more of the painful pleasure. He coos at this, finger running over your areola once when he pulls back from your chest. He sits back on his haunches, fingers deftly making quick use of his belt. The way he pulls the belt from the loops on his trousers have you remembering all the times he’s whipped you with it, and your eyes go blurry. You’re staring directly at the extremely prominent bulge in his trousers as if you somehow have x-ray vision and can see his cock in all its glory already.

“I’m going to fuck your face,” He explains, pushing down the expensive branded boxers to his thighs. His thighs are thick, muscled from years of dance, and you nod at his words despite having your vision solely trained on the bulging muscles. You can’t even keep your attention there for long - his cock springs out, hard and flushed and so big, so thick in the tight ring he forms around the base. The veins look as though they could be practically throbbing beneath the skin with arousal. “I’ll fuck your face, and I’ll piss down your throat. Do you want that? Tell me.”

He’s asking you, and you can’t believe it. Of course you want it, but you respond anyway. “I want it. I want it so bad, Minho. How do you want me? On the floor, on my knees? Or do you-”

“On the floor,” He looks towards the ground, pleased with himself when you heed his commands immediately. You’re quick to dive off of the bed and sink to your knees on the floor, and Minho lets out a fond chuckle before standing in front of you, ever the image of dominance. The hardwood floor doesn’t save your knees, still feeling hard and uncomfortable, and the way the pain bites into your legs has you shifting even more. It turns you on, being used and treated like an object, and being put on the floor to suck cock doesn’t help any. You’re positively ruining your panties by now.

His trousers are pushed down to his ankles, the perfect juxtaposition of black, thick material against his milky skin. His shirt is rolled up just enough for you to see the bottom of his tummy, hairy and soft above his cock. You expect him to keep it on, but you watch in awe as he unbuttons his shirt quickly and throws it to the side. His chest is exposed to you then, all broad muscle and dusky pink nipples against his skin.

He pumps his shaft in his hand a few times for good measure, just barely a few inches from your face, and then he’s tapping the cockhead on your lips. “Open wide. C’mon, kitty cat.”

His tone is condescending, almost patronising, and you hold back a whine. When your lips fall apart, he’s pushing into your mouth before you can even process it. A blistering, feverish pace immediately takes over his hips, and his cockhead is ramming down your throat with only a slight bit of pain beneath all of the pleasure. You try to run your tongue over the tip, to trace the veins with the tip of your tongue, but it’s impossible. He’s using your mouth like he’d use your pussy, unabashed and downright mean.

“Take it,” he grunts, looking ever the ethereal being above you. If you didn’t know him, you’d swear he was an angel - no, a fallen angel, debauched and with black, wiry wings sprouting from his back. Sweat covers the top of his chest, shiny and wet, and his cockhead presses firmly into the back of your throat. Your eyes water with the intense ministrations on your throat, hands aching to reach out and grab onto Minho’s thighs. They stay securely on your own limbs, and Minho groans, his eyes staring down into yours. “Fucking take it for me. Take my cock, dirty kitty. Don’t you dare fucking cry about it.”

You’d swear he was composed if it wasn’t for the way he was looking down at you. Minho’s mostly quiet in bed, only a few sparse noises, but the fire in his eyes is visible.

The sounds in the room are filthy. Your eyes are hazy already with the force that he’s rutting into your mouth, but when his hand goes into your hair, yanking with all of his might, you hear yourself whine between gags and you’re not even trying to. You’re floating, fuzzy where your boyfriend fucks his cockhead into your mouth - you can’t even consider what’s going on, not too out of it but out of it enough to question what’s actually happening around you. Is this what Minho was talking about before? Subspace?

“Oh, Jesus. Are you feeling fuzzy already, kitty?” He pulls his cock out, tapping the cockhead on your bottom lip. A string of drool attaches his cock back to your mouth and he groans in approval, feline eyes narrowing. “Went down so easy for me, huh? Do you think you can take a little more?”

You’re nodding then, subconsciously, but a slight smile on your face. You want more. You need more. You need his piss, wherever on your body that he deems acceptable - it’s like he’s marking you as his territory. It’s such a primitive act that gets you more than just hot under the collar. If he pisses on you, or in you, it’s as if he sees you as an object that’s beneath him, not worth anything more than his piss.

“Good,” He muses, and then his hand is forming a tight ring around his length. It’s throbbing, long and thick where it protrudes from his groin with drops of pearlescent precum, and he presses it past your lips again with a small sigh. “I’ve gotta take a piss, kitty cat. I want you to swallow it all for me, and then you can have some milk in that pussy for being good. How’s that?”

You can’t reply, because he’s already bouncing your head on his shaft. He’s resorted to pulling you up and down on his shaft by your hair this time, not grinding his hips rhythmically into the hot, wet cavern you’ve provided.

“You know, I really thought you’d say no to this,” How the fuck is his voice calm right now? “But then I realised that of course you’d be into it. My filthy little fucking urinal.”

You moan loudly around his shaft. Minho chuckles, and then he’s pulling back again, your throat abused and aching at the alleviation of pressure. His cockhead stays at the entrance of your mouth, and he drops a hand from your hair to pump it a few times, raising an eyebrow at you.

“It’s coming,” He warns. “Are you ready? Are you ready for my piss, filthy bitch?”

You moan, nodding, and when your tongue lolls out of your mouth, Minho lets out a loud groan. It’s primal, and you watch silently as he shakes his head and flutters his eyes closed to try and gain some control of himself. He runs his finger over the slit of his cockhead, and then he’s pushing the tip past your lips again and - oh.

His piss begins leaking out of his tip, a slow and steady stream that tastes surprisingly a lot like you expected. It’s purely Minho, raw and unfiltered, and you whine and whimper and let him fill your mouth up with his piss. It feels filthy, your pussy positively dripping through your panties and onto the floor by now. The stream floods down your throat even as you continue to gulp it down greedily, and you allow your hands to finally find purchase on his thighs, fingernails digging into the muscle. He allows it, his hands both moving back to your hair to bob you on his tip just a little to get the rest of his piss out.

Minho pulls out of your mouth with a soft noise, his eyes staring down at you almost menacingly. You dip your tongue into his piss-slit once more, moaning at the remnants of the taste, and then you’re whining, loud and un-muffled.

“Minho,” You say, voice high and needy. You feel as though you want to say so much, you want to beg so much, but nothing is coming out of your mouth. You’re so fucking turned on you feel like you could die. “P-Please. Please, please. I can’t, I can’t, please, please-”

He positively growls. You’re pulled up by two hands underneath your armpits and thrown onto the bed less than unceremoniously, his body sidling up next to you. He’s kicked his trousers off, you notice, body warm and firm next to you.

“Was it that good? Dirty little thing,” He hums, tongue licking one fat stripe up your neck. “C’mere. Let me taste it on you.”

Minho’s lips are firm against yours, and his hands are anything but gentle as he slides them down your body. It’s like he’s igniting you with electricity, every area of skin that he touches feeling warm and too sensitive. His lips trail down your neck, leaving another trail of fire behind them. You’re pliant, letting him pull you by your hair and your throat into his dominating, overwhelming kisses.

His fingers reach your panties, and his finger dips underneath the waistband. You gasp, holding your breath and wishing, praying that he’ll push his whole hand into your underwear, but he simply pulls his finger back with a small amused puff of air.

“Hnnfg, Minho, Minho, please, I don’t, I can’t-“

Minho leans over you more then, his eyes dark and half-lidded when he stares into yours. His gaze is all-consuming, but there’s a slight hint of a teasing smile on his lips. “Jesus, kitty. Be quiet,” His voice is low, amused, until all signs of a smile drop from his face upon his fingers finally delving into your underwear. His forearm obscures your vision, muscled and veiny, but you can feel the way your wetness immediately drenches his fingertips. His eyes flicker from your face to your core in awe, lips slightly parted. “Fuckin- shit. Jagi, tell me this is a joke. You’re fucking drenched.”

You are. His fingers smear around in your wetness, spreading it all around your folds. He drags his middle and ring finger down to your hole, wet and sloppy, and you look at him with pleading eyes. You’re not sure you could talk even if you wanted to.

Minho simply smiles that toothy smile that you love, eyes crinkling. You’re confused - he’s being nice - until he’s shoving both fingers into you at once. It was a stretch you hadn't been prepared for, and you jolt with a squeal, hands going up to grip onto his forearm.

“Do you remember what I said before, jagi?” He muses, fingers curling up into that spot that makes you whine. You do whine, legs thrashing around and toes curling against the sheets. “If you have any in there, I’m fucking having it. I want you to piss all over my cock before I fuck you with it, remember? I want you to treat you like the dirty little thing you are.”

You nod, brain still fuzzy and way too overwhelmed. Your pussy squelches loudly around his digits, and his spare hand wraps around your throat in a dangerous grip. It’s not too hard, but definitely there, and you whimper in approval.

Your eyes roll back into your head at the pace he sets against your g-spot, and after a brief, tight squeeze, Minho removes his hand from your throat in favour of using two fingers on your clit along with his harsh fingering. His arm is curled underneath your waist in a position that must be painful to him, but you ignore it in favour of your own pleasure.

You feel like you could scream, and you do let out some strangled noise that sounds nothing at all like you. Just when you think it can’t get any worse - or any better, actually - he slides another finger in, stretching you out with three of his digits. You’re dripping down onto his knuckles and you wail, starting to hump against his hand. You’re going to cum embarrassingly quickly.

“You better be fucking thinking of asking for permission, bitch,” Minho hisses in your ear. You moan in response, nodding. Of course you’ll ask. Something about your boyfriend just makes you want to be good. You want to obey him so he continues to give you such nice things. “You don’t make the decisions. I'm the one fucking that hole with my fingers right now, I'll be the one who says you can cum.”

His fingers thrust into you faster, if it was possible, and you thrash around. The movement brings Minho’s cock against your thigh, and you gasp at the realisation that he’s next to you, naked, in all his glory. Your fingernails still dig painfully into his forearm, but he doesn’t seem phased. “Minho, Minho- I’m gon’- please, please, please, I wanna cum, let me come, it hurts, I-“

“Oh, I know, I know. It just feels too good, doesn’t it? You can’t even fucking control yourself, writhing around like that,” He groans, eyes fixated on your face. You know your expression is screwed up in pleasure, eyes watering from the feeling of his fingers inside of you. His fingers begin to slide around on your clit rather than provide any direct pressure due to how wet you’re getting, but you still hump against the sensation with gratitude. You’d never have anything other than gratitude when Minho’s being so nice like this. “You’re behaving like a fucking whore. Beg me for it. Beg me to let a fucking whore like you cum all over my fingers, tell me how good it feels.”

He starts kissing up your neck again with the open-mouthed, wet movements, and you feel like you’re about to burst. Just a little more. Just a little more, and you can, you just have to will your brain to speak. “I-I love sir's fingers, fuck, I love when sir fingers me like this- fuck, sir I'm gonna- can't hold it- I, hnng, I can’t, I don’t- pleasepleaseplease-”

Minho pulls away from your neck with an alarmed little snort. “Sir? God, you are far gone,” He points out, but then he’s pinching your clit meanly with his fingers. It makes you hump his hand a little faster and whine a little louder. It’s quiet for a beat, and then he’s sighing as if he’s annoyed. You swear you catch him rolling his eyes through your blurry vision. “Okay, fine. Go on then, if you want to cum so badly. Cum.”

With one word, you feel like your whole world is falling apart. A gush of wetness bursts from you and all over the bed, probably soaking Minho too. Your ears are ringing and you can feel the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall, fat streaks of wetness painting your skin. His fingers don’t slow, but he’s groaning in your ear now, coaching you along. He pulls his fingers out, rubbing over your clit with a wet hand that only made you let out another gush everywhere. You were sure you'd screamed.

You wail and thrash through your orgasm, and then you’re panting, body dropping back onto the bed. You don’t register Minho groaning, licking his fingers clean - you only realise he’s moved when he’s on top of you, yanking your soaking wet underwear down your legs and finally unclasping your bra. Your hands go above your head, pliant and willing, letting him take control. You’re fucked dumb by now, anyway. You’d be no use.

“If you had all that in there for me, you have some piss in there,” He muses, and you whine, shaking your head.

“D’nt need to pee, Min,” You insist, head lolling back on the sheets. You’re pliant, and Minho grabs your chin with his hand, making you face him. His ears are burning a shade of delectable pink, the flush travelling over his chest and making him look almost embarrassed. You know this state of Minho all too well, though. He’s so horny he feels like he’s about to explode.

“You do,” He responds, quick as a flash. You whimper as he presses his cockhead into your folds, just barely teasing the ruddy, flushed tip at your hole. Your hands move to grip onto the sheets next to your head, and just when you’re sure he’s going to put it in, Minho leans down, and then his hand is pressing on the bottom of your stomach. You wail, shaking your head. Minho chuckles knowingly. “You need to piss, don’t you?”

You do. Embarrassingly quickly, just from him pressing on your bladder. “I- it’ll make a mess, Min, I can’t, I can’t-”

“I want it to make a fucking mess,” He scoffs, pressing harder. He continues to drag his cock through your sopping wet folds with his other hand, his feline eyes staring at you with a renewed fire burning behind them. He’s daring you to disobey. You would never disobey him. “I want everything you have to give me. Piss all over my cock. Do it.”

You clench your thighs, stomach tensing. It doesn’t take much, only a slight rubbing of Minho’s hand on your tummy and you’re pissing. The stream erupts from you in a messy spurt, and Minho groans, pumping his cock to coat it in your mess. You whine, trying to shift your hips to catch his cock inside of you, but the mess you’re making ensures that it’s too slippery to do so.

“Stay still, you’ll get it in a second,” Minho mumbles, hand tightening around the head of his cock. It’s substantially lubed now, but he still continues to pump it, hand easing up on your stomach. Something about it has your mouth watering, staring at his cock and wondering how it tastes. Maybe he’ll let you suck it clean next time, let you taste his cock mixed with your own piss. “That’s it, kitty. Get sir’s cock nice and wet with your piss. Dirty little thing.”

When the stream finally finishes, you shift against the sheets, soaking wet and definitely a lot more aroused than you were previously. There’s still only one thing on your mind. “Can- can I have it now, please, please?”

Minho nods, his cheeks blazing red. He’s losing his composure. “Yeah. God, yeah, kitty. You can have it, c’mere,” He sighs, finally pushing the head of his cock inside of you. It slides inside easily with the wetness of your pussy and the mess you’d made on him, his thick shaft stretching you out and making you moan out for him. You catch sight of Minho’s eyes rolling back into his head, a long, drawn out noise leaving his lips. “Fuck, this is so fucking dirty. You’re filthy, letting me do this.”

No. You’re not, are you? Are you dirty? “Filthy?” You question, completely in bliss at the feeling of him finally inside you. You’ll be filthy if it means he’ll fuck you. Minho chuckles, and then his hips start to move, a sinuous grind against yours. The noises your pussy is making are beyond debauched, wet, slapping sounds from how soaking wet you are. You whine, bucking your hips up, and Minho lets you, gripping your hips to pull you off of the mattress.

“I’m gonna go harder, okay? I want you to take it for me, all of it,” His voice is close, leaning down to whisper it against the skin of your neck. You nod eagerly, and he pulls your thighs up to rest your ankles on his shoulders. The change in position has his cock hitting you deeper and you gasp, fingers moving to grip on his biceps. He sits back slightly, pulling you closer to him, and then he’s pounding into you. With little to no buildup, you can’t help but squeal, your pussy gushing around his fat length. “You love this, don’t you? My cock, covered in your piss, stretching your little cunt out. You love being filthy for me.”

“Hhnnfg, hhng, Min, Min, Min, you made me pee, you-”

Minho scoffs, hand threading into your hair. He wraps your hair around his fist and pulls, bent half over you while he pounds your pussy into oblivion. “Don’t make stupid fucking excuses for yourself. I can see it in your eyes, you love being like this for me.”

You whine, tears brimming in your eyes again uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but just lay there, pliant and gripping onto his biceps for him to stretch your pussy out with his veiny fucking cock. It feels almost too good, too overwhelming. The ridges of his shaft are pressing against your walls, causing a delectable friction that has you clenching down on every outwards motion from him. It’s as if your pussy doesn’t want him to leave, and you don’t want him to leave, pulling him close by his arms every time he thrusts inside of you.

Minho pushes your thighs apart, and then he’s bending you into a sort of mating press. Your legs rest on his upper biceps and his body folds you in half for him, making you whine at the stretch on your muscles. You’re loud, embarrassingly so, little “ah, ah, ah”’s leaving your mouth with every thrust. The change in position allows him to hit your cervix with his length, long and throbbing inside of you, and you’re only louder and more pathetic for him.

“Can you hear that, kitty cat?” He whispers, and you hold your breath. Once you’ve stopped making so much noise, you can hear it - the sound of your pussy is even louder, wet and messy and when you look down, his cock is soaking with you. With your piss or your slick, you’re not sure, but it has you clenching down deliciously anyway. “I’m fucking your own piss into you, and you’re whining like a little bitch.”

You can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. Your previous slight fuzziness has morphed into full blown floating, and you think you’re crying, but you’re not sure. All you can hear is your own noises, loud and desperate while he ensures your pussy never forgets the shape of his cock. “Ah, ah, I don’t- sir, I don’t, I can’t, I don’t know- ah, oh, I can’t-”

“Ah, fucking hell,” Minho hisses, gritting his teeth. You watch in disappointment as he pulls his cock out of you, forming a tight ring around the base with his fingers. “I need to cum inside you. I need to give you your milk, kitty cat, c’mon. Flip over for me.”

He tells you to do it, but helps you anyway. You feel his hands go to your hips to flip you over, and then you’re face down, and some part of you finds the strength to push your hips up to present your pussy for him. But, milk? You’ve been good enough for that?

He sinks back inside you, his cock slick and fat and too much for your little pussy. “There you go, jagi. Biiig stretch, feel it,” He moans, and you push your hips back on him easily. In this position, your lips are parted and you can feel yourself drooling up a puddle on the sheets. It adds to the mess, filthy with piss and slick and sweat, and you want Minho to lick it all up and spit it in your mouth. He immediately resumes his punishing pace, hips slapping against your ass with every thrust and hitting that delicious spot inside you so well. “Fuckin’ tight pussy, ah, it’s so good.”

“H- haa, Minho, have I been good?” You question, eyes blurry and bottom lip slick with your own spit. Minho groans, deep and loud, reverberating through your whole body. He knows you need reassurance, and he nods, a little smile on his face despite his lust-filled, half-lidded eyes.

“You’ve been so good. So good I’m giving you my cum, yeah? Gonna breed that little pussy, filled it with your piss already, needs my cum now,” He’s babbling, which is a sure sign that he’s close - but you can’t even fathom it in your state. “Little girl, kitty cat, so good for me, c’mere.”

You don’t move, but Minho slinks one hand around your hip to rub at your clit. The added pleasure has you jolting with a whine, and Minho lets out an amused puff of air at your reaction. His fingers slide around your clit wet and imprecise, but it’s enough to have you hurtling towards your second orgasm. His cockhead slams against your g-spot, bordering on painful, but the sensation only adds to the throes of bliss he has you tumbling through.

“Min, Min, Min, it’s- ‘s so good, so good, so big, so- Min, Min, I g’ta-”

“You can cum whenever, jagi. Give it to me, I want it,” His voice is higher, more desperate, and you nod eagerly. He sidles over your back, his sweaty chest pressed to your skin, and then he’s pressing his lips against yours.

It’s less of a kiss and more of a messy exchange of spit and breathing into each other's mouths. Minho’s tongue slides against yours as he continues to rub messy circles around your clit, and before you know it, you’re cumming around his cock with a sharp gasp of pleasure against his lips. He swallows your noises, finally engulfing your mouth with his, and you moan and sigh freely through gushing all over his length, the electric feeling making your toes curl.

Minho envelops your hair tightly with his spare hand, thrusting harder and faster, his breathing becoming ragged as he approaches his climax. With a broken whine, you feel his cum fill you up, thick and hot and heavy.

He flops on top of you with a sigh, his body weight a welcome presence for you. You ignore the feeling of the sheets beneath you in favour of closing your eyes and humming contentedly. You’re still floating, but it’s calmer now, softer. It feels like you’re on a cloud. “So good, Min.”

“Yeah?” Minho grins, his hand now stroking softly through your hair in favour of yanking on it. “You did so good for me, jagi. You were so, so good, made me cum so hard.”

“You made me cum hard, too,” You respond, opening one eye to see his face over your shoulder. His cheeks are flushed, hair sweaty and floppy over his eyes, but he has a blissed out smile on his face. When he catches sight of you looking at him, he smiles, and the sight of his bunny teeth has your heart singing. How can he look so cute after fucking you like that? Before you can say anything else, you yawn, and Minho giggles. “‘M sleepy.”

“Bath first, jagi,” He coos, kissing your hairline. “My sweet girl. Let’s get you nice and clean and then we’ll nap.”

“Mm, okay,” Minho hops off of you and you stretch out leisurely like a cat, your body sticky and defiled. You hear him tinkering around the room behind you, humming a tune to himself, and you smile fondly. “Love you, Min.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

#juno's fics ♡#lee know smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #lee minho fanfiction #lee know x reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #skz smut #PISS!

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sebastiansluts · 1 year

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How about reverse cowgirl with Bucky but you are completely on top of him, and him hooking his arm under your leg and thrusting into your kitty so hard yet he decides to be a little mean by putting 2 of his vibranium fingers inside you while his cock still inside and hooking it so they hit your g-spot perfectly that it makes you squirt everytime he hits it

I believe you'll be the perfect writer to write that kind of sfuff, Rosie!

Bucky Barnes x Reader; vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting,

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

You and Bucky were on the bed, and you were sitting on top of him, backwards, facing his legs, slowly sinking down on his dick. You breathed heavily, your hands planted on his calves, your legs tucked under you and still you felt shaky and off-balance.

"B-Bucky, I'm gonna fall," you whimpered, his big cock stretching you and it was only halfway in. His hands were firm on your hips, and he squeezed them, the vibranium shifting in his arm and making you squeak.

"Doll, you're not goin' anywhere," Bucky muttered, and pulled you down farther on his dick, making you take the stretch and pain until you were gasping with pleasure, his tip hitting that special spot inside you.

You panted as you adjusted, slowly walking your hands up his firm, thick thighs, until you pushed yourself upright, sat on top of him. Bucky kneaded your hips again, before sliding his mismatched hands up your sides, smoothing over your arms, until he had a firm grip on your upper arms.

"C'mon baby, I told ya, you're not goin' anywhere," Bucky said, pulling you down until you started falling, then he stopped you, controlling your descent, getting you resting on top of him completely.

"Fuck...Bucky don't slip out," you whined as he shifted, propping his feet on the mattress, yours still folded at his sides. He reached down, vibranium and flesh grabbing your calves and lifting you as you squeaked until your legs were folded up by your head.

"You still worried 'bout me slippin' out?" Bucky chuckled, draping your legs over his arms, the vibranium shifting beneath you making you shiver.

Bucky started thrusting, gently at first, teasing you with it before he suddenly started putting more power behind his thrusts, grunts and whimpers leaving you as his big cock stretched you again and again.

"How 'bout now doll, think 'm still gonna 'let you fall' or 'slip out' or some other silly nonsense?" Bucky was relentless with both his words and his thrusts, fucking you so hard you knew you were going to be bruised and swollen.

"No Bucky! I trust you!" you cried out, and his hips stuttered for a moment before regaining their steady, almost too much, powerful rhythm.

"Yeah? You trust me baby? So fuckin' sweet of ya, can't stand it doll. You're too good to me, so I'm gonna be too good to you."

Your eyes widened, staring up at the ceiling in shock as Bucky reached his vibranium hand over and slid a finger in beside his cock. You clenched hard, breath punched out of you, the sting back and intense, nearly bringing tears to your eyes, but Bucky kept moving, sliding his cock in and out of your hole while he kept his finger still.

You groaned, forced to take him like he wanted, literally held into position. "Bucky...fuck, it's s'much," you panted, moaning as he rubbed a second finger against where his cock was pressing deep inside your cunt.

"Aww, havin' trouble doll? S'it too much? No, never too much for my baby," Bucky praised as he pressed his second finger in beside the other, his cock pushing back deep into you.

Your mouth dropped open, your head fallen back on Bucky's shoulder as his vibranium fingers flexed inside you before hooking on your spot, pressing hard just as his dick plunged deep.

You gasped as pressure built inside you and released, liquid squirting out of you above Bucky's dick even as he pulled back partway. "Bucky!" you cried, and he groaned loudly, fucking you hard again, fingers pressing that spot and you felt that release again. You squirted again, to Bucky's absolute delight.

"Jesus Christ doll, that's fuckin' it, soak me baby, drench me, c'mon you can do it," he goaded, every other word punctuated with a thrust and a push of his fingers which set you off, squirting all over Bucky and the bed.

Your mouth was hanging open, your eyes rolled back in your head and still you were coming, body and thighs shaking as you tried to hold on to yourself.

Bucky wouldn't stop making you squirt, but his thrusts were getting sloppier the closer he came to coming. There was a puddle forming on the bed beneath you two, as Bucky lifted his hips repeatedly, forcing you to take everything.

Your back arched as you came dry, spasming around Bucky's dick and clenching tight enough to trigger his orgasm. He came inside you with a pulse and a groan. He pulled his fingers free and buried his cock deep inside you, holding you down against him.

"Take it all baby, everything I give ya," Bucky groaned, and you just whimpered, overstimulated and exhausted, body twitching as he emptied himself inside you, then let your legs drop to the bed.

"Good fuckin' girl," he praised, stroking your still trembling thighs, smoothing over your sensitive cunt and making you jump. "I think this might be a new go-to position, hmm?"

You moaned, already imagining how much he'd make you come and squirt and ruin the bed further. "Yeah doll, get ready for round two."

#rose writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #smut #no y/n

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blueywrites · 4 days

Text

you go in then I'll blow

eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader a smutty sequel to baby can we smoke?

cw: 18+. innocent!reader (not minor-coded), sex while high, oral (m & f receiving), spit, smoking, no y/n, no physical descriptions

fresh out the oven for you guys, here's alllll the filthy goodness.

enjoy! xx

Eddie allows himself one last squeeze before dropping his hand and straightening up to his full height— kneeling, that is, which is tall enough for him to gaze down at you all splayed out on the picnic bench, your legs spread in your tiny little pleated skirt, propped on your elbows so you can look up at him, ready and waiting. He draws his hand up your calf to the back of your knee, hooking his palm there and slinging your leg over his shoulder with a waggle of his eyebrows. He's going for roguish, but it must come across a little dorky because you giggle at him, your wide doe-eyes crinkling up tight with amusement.

He can't be mad about it, though, because your giggle is cute, the sound like sunshine and tinkling bells, and Eddie's just realized how much he likes the shape of your smile. Drawn in, he leans forward, shifting your legs back and open for him with the breadth of his shoulders. You lay flat along the bench, your breath hitching as he comes close to your heat. He could taste you now, and he wants to, but your obvious anticipation stirs the mischievous part of him. So Eddie denies himself and you, turning his cheek at the last moment, pressing slow kisses into the crease of your inner thigh until your breathy pleasured sounds turn to little grunts of impatience.

"C'mon, Eddie," you finally whine, wiggling your ass.

Eddie smiles against your skin, enjoying the way you get petulant when you're needy. "Okay, okay," he huffs, feigning exasperation at your attempt to hurry him along.

Finally, he flips your skirt up out of the way. Looking up the clothed plane of your body, Eddie watches you as he finally leans all the way in and kitten licks your clit, gradually applying more pressure with each stroke until your breasts start to heave in that fuzzy sweater. He wants to keep watching you, keep seeing the different ways he can make you react, but the high makes everything more vivid and potent. With it, he can't help but become consumed by what's right in front of him.

Now, Eddie's whole world is your cunt.

He’s surrounded, immersed in you: the sharp-sweet tang of your slippery arousal in his mouth, the heady musk of your skin in his nose, which whistles against you with each heavy breath when he presses his face into your supple lips, desperate to get his tongue into every hidden crevice. And there are so many contrasting textures for him to explore. The fuzzy velvet of your outer lips. The smooth slick of those smaller folds as he burrows in deeper. The firm, fat bead of your clit nestled into its hood, peeking out further to greet him the more he treats her nicely. The flexing strength of your hole, the futile way it tries to grip his tongue and keep him inside as he teases it. There's so much of your sweet, plump fruit to devour, and devour Eddie does, eating your pussy entirely for his own pleasure.

He dips up and down, licking and sucking, nuzzling and nibbling, entranced by the sensation of you against his face. His mind meanders as he nudges back up again, rubs his lips on the soft grit stubble of your mound. You must've shaved a couple days ago, Eddie figures, imagining you with your foot up on the porcelain rim of your tub at home, bending this way and that as you shave your kitty with a little pink razor. And fuck, that's doing something for him right now. Probably 'cause he's high and also ‘cause he maybe liked watching you— sweet, doe-eyed little you— take hits off the fat blunt he twisted a little too much. You were such a good listener, so good at following his directions; obedient to a fault, he’d thought earlier, and in between dipping his tongue into your flexing hole and sucking the sweetness from your lips like your pussy really is a peach, he’s thinking about what else you might do with him here in the woods if he asks you to.

Soon, Eddie wanders too far, getting lost in the feeling of your firm clit rolling against his tongue. Mesmerized, he swirls it over and over in the same pattern, until the repetitive motion feels so satisfying in and of itself that it’s almost incidental when he notices how frantic your moans have become and how your thighs are now twitching against his ears.

Fuck, you’re gonna cum on his tongue, aren’t you? He’s gonna make you cum all over his goddamn face. Eddie groans against your sweetness as the hazy realization solidifies in his mind. He presses in harder, sucking your little bean into his mouth and latching hard out of giddiness, hard enough that you squeal and thrash and push against his forehead with your palm. He steals another moment before somewhat reluctantly relenting, unpursing his lips and rubbing the flat of his tongue against your clit instead. Up and down, up and down, steady and firm— just twice more before you buck, boxing Eddie’s ears with your thighs so he can barely hear the sound of your broken, sweetly anguished groan.

As you hit the height of your pleasure, your hips squirm wildly, unpredictable like an untamed horse; he chases you, keeping up the pressure as best he can to work you through it. Once your twitching stops, and the tension in your body seems to edge over into overstimulation, he steals one last quick, wet lap with his wide tongue and pulls away, smacking his lips at the way the orgasm ripened your taste.

Immediately, you pop up to sitting, a healthy sheen dewing your face and your pink-tinged eyes clear and sparkling. Eddie looks up at you, and with the way the sun halos you from behind—gold along the edges of your hair, radiant like the look on your face as you gaze down at him— something sharp-tender twists in his chest. You stretch forward, scrunched up around your middle so you can reach him where he kneels beyond the end of the bench. You anchor your hand on his cheek and draw your thumb underneath his lower lip, wiping yourself from his face. Your touch is soft but not hesitant, and the feeling of you stroking his face renders him motionless, lax like you have him in some kind of weed-fueled angelic trance.

It breaks when you take your touch away, swinging around on the bench and hopping to your feet. You try to haul him up by both his hands, pulling hard and hardly moving him until he helps you get him to his feet, snorting a chuckle at your consternation. You flash him a look which is far less intimidating than he knows you want it to be. Amused and only mildly chastened, Eddie follows without resistance as you tug him along by the hands; when you push down lightly on his shoulders, he drops his weight, sitting on the bench in your place.

"Now your turn," you say, your voice sweet and warm, your eyes gleaming eagerly as they fall to his lap. Reflexively, Eddie’s legs shift farther open, spreading almost proudly to show off the tightness at his crotch. It brings his attention back to how goddamn horny you've made him, and it takes some effort to keep from tugging on himself right in front of you like a creep. He rubs his palms along the rough denim of his thighs to relieve the itch to touch instead.

You start to sink down, and he’s almost too high and turned on to notice how you’re about to dent your knees on the little sticks and rocks scattered on the damp soil, but he catches you just in time. He doesn’t give a shit about his own jeans, but he feels a pang— guilt? Conscience? Some sense of gentlemanliness? —at the thought of you enduring the same.

“Wait, wait.” Eddie’s hands shoot out, catching under your elbows to stop you, and your brow crumples briefly but smoothes when he quickly shucks his vest off, spreading it out face-down for you to kneel on.

“Oh!” All at once, your fruity scent hits him like a cloud at the same time your lips press a firm, sticky kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Eddie!”

Before he can react, you’re already plopping down, shuffling forward between his knees and, once satisfied with your position, promptly planting your ass on your heels. And Eddie tries to focus on keeping his composure, but without the distraction of eating your pussy and knowing how close he is to having your mouth on him, the need within him flares, raging all insistent and painful. By the time you’ve worked his belt open, his chest is already heaving, all of him yearning for the moment you’ll touch him. And maybe it’s embarrassing, but Eddie can't bite back a hiss when you finally tug down his boxers enough to free him and his heated flesh hits the cool air.

You pout, your brow crinkled sympathetically. "Don't worry, Eddie," you say, so sincere it just makes him ache all the more. "I'll take care of you."

You look up at him as you run your fist lightly up his length, and even just that slight touch is like a gut punch. He almost whimpers as you grasp just beneath the tip, your gaze dipping down to his cock as you pinch your bottom lip with your teeth. And it’s when he thinks he might have to beg you to finally put your mouth on him, dignity be damned, that you dip your head and take him in.

Eddie’s palms scrape against the rough wood bench as he grips the edge tight, holding on as the ache in his dick transforms with a surge into a hot flare of pleasure, all concentrated where you've started suckling on his tip like a lollipop. You explore his cock like he did your pussy— licking and sucking and nibbling his heated skin, sometimes dipping shallowly down past that sensitive ridge on occasion, but mostly concentrating your attention on his throbbing head.

It’s feeling really good, and his eyes have just slipped closed when he hears you hum, and then suddenly that wet warmth is gone. They snap open to see your face hovering just above his cock; with a curious tip of your head, you glance up at him through your lashes and ask, "D'you like it sloppy, Eddie?"

Oh. Eddie swallows thickly, cheeks prickling as his dick twitches hard in your grasp. "Yeah," he says, his voice faint. "I like it sloppy."

You smile, appearing pleased. "Okay," you reply simply, pursing your lips and letting a generous amount of spit fall from your glistening lips onto his cockhead. You chase it with your tongue, laving up and down his length with long, sweeping, sloppy motions before languidly taking him into your mouth, bobbing halfway down his length for the first time.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He can feel all the blood in his body cleave into two paths, some racing up his chest and into his face to flush him beet red, and the rest surging downward to harden him to steel. He’s had sex high before, but maybe he’s higher than he thought ‘cause this is just something else entirely, a maelstrom of burning need coaxed by the heaven of your soft, wet mouth. It’s intense, and he just can't help it. His hips buck off the bench, enough so that, even as he tries to stop the motion, he nudges the back of your throat.

Of course, you gag, coughing around him a couple times in the aftermath. "Sorry, sorry," he gasps, jerking his hips back as you lift your head. It pulls him from your mouth, and his cock bounces under its own weight between you.

"S'okay,” you say, and your words are thick but, to his relief, your expression is genuinely unbothered. “It’ll just make me more spitty, anyways.”

You lean back in, working your jaw to gather the new rush of saliva. Eddie watches, entranced, as your hot pink tongue slinks along his cock until every inch of his flushed skin is shiny and slick from your drooling mouth. He expects you to wrap your lips back around him then, but you surprise him by shimmying yourself down lower so that you're looking up from beneath him instead— the perfect position for him to rub his dick on your face.

And that’s just— he can’t believe that’s what you want him to do, but clearly it is, because you’re fucking smiling up at him and nudging your little nose against the side of his length, happy as can be to have his cock lying across your cheek. Experimentally, he moves his hips, pulling back so his tip rests against your chin before pushing forward again. Aided by your saliva, the motions are smooth, the feeling of your skin slick and warm and soft, made even better when you open your mouth and kiss at him with your lips and tongue as his length glides over them. You take his hand and lift it, encouraging him to direct his own path, which he does— using the valley between his spread thumb and index finger, Eddie keeps himself pressed down snugly as he ruts against you, working himself up to a steady grind.

The sight of it alone is almost enough to get him there: your eyes fuck-me heavy, your face sticky and soaked with spit and precum, the way the rutting of his cock shifts your supple cheek and swollen lips, dragging and molding them with its rhythmic thrusts. It might be one of the most erotic things he’s ever seen.

"Oh my god," Eddie moans, chuckling in disbelief. "Holy fuck, you're—"

His brain promptly short circuits when you tilt your chin down and suck one of his balls into your mouth. His hips jerk and fall still as he groans, overwhelmed by the sensation; kindly, you start to knead his tip with your hand, keeping it happy while you lavish him further down. Eddie watches wide-eyed as your cheeks hollow and relax rhythmically, massaging one ball in the hot cavern of your mouth before swapping to the other, all the while dragging your tongue along the underside of his sack in a move that has his belly twisting up all sticky tight and his head feeling suddenly faint.

His occasional grunts and groans have evolved now into a ragged sound Eddie makes on every exhale, and his moans increase in pitch as your fist starts to slide down from his tip over the rest of him. He can't stifle any of the noises you're pulling from him, nor can he control it when he actually fucking whines as your sucking lips latch to the underside of his cock, gradually crawling upward with open-mouthed kisses until you reach his openly weeping slit.

And then you’re jerking him off with quick little flicks of your wrist, your tongue wiggling against the underside of his head—

"I'm gonna cum," Eddie gasps, hit with the knowledge all at once as the feeling surges up like an unstoppable force. "Oh shit, fuck, fuck, I'm comi—ngh!" The word becomes a strangled groan as the pleasure contracts sharply and then expands outward in a rush of liquid ecstasy. Eddie empties across your tongue, his cum spurting in lines over your lips and up the apple of your cheek, so high it almost kisses your eye.

You're a mess.

You're so. Fucking. Hot.

When he finally comes back down, Eddie notices you're trying to clean said mess from your face, using your fingers like little windshield wipers to clear your eyes and flicking spit and cum off into the dirt. Hurriedly, he peels his flannel down his arms, leaving him in a T-shirt with his jeans still hanging open, neglected for the moment in his haste to help you. "Here," he says, "I got it."

You drop your hands, letting them rest in your lap as Eddie wipes off your face, trying to be both as thorough and as careful as he can. It's not perfect— your baby hairs are still stuck down in places around your hairline, and you've got a stubborn smudge of mascara beneath one eye that won't come clean— but the cum is gone, and you're no longer covered in spit, at least. Eddie balls up the flannel when he's done, tossing it onto the tabletop in a crumpled heap to be figured out later.

When he turns back around, you're on your feet, straightening your disheveled clothing.

“That was fun!" You chirp brightly, bending down and pulling up your sagging socks.

"It was. Really fun," he agrees, looking at you for a moment. "I didn't think you'd... I mean..." You glance up at him with that expression of vague confusion, straightening and plopping onto the bench beside him, bending to pick up his vest from the ground. "I just didn't expect all that, is all. You just seem so..."

He feels a pang of conscience that he may insult you by saying so, but he's spoken too much to back out now. "So innocent," he finishes, one eye squinted in a wince, his lips parted and poised to placate you if his assessment upsets you.

You blink at him owlishly, feeling around inside his vest pockets. Before he can ask what you're looking for, you pull out his box of Marlboros. His jaw snaps shut.

"Innocent?" You ask, tapping the end of the box against the heel of your hand and plucking out the cigarette that popped up with the motion. And he's left reeling when you— sweet, doe-eyed little you— place it smoothly between your lips, reaching over to casually grab his zippo from the tabletop. He barely registers the click and flare as you light up, holding his own fucking box of cigarettes out toward him in offering.

Eddie meets your eyes, dumbfounded by the mirth there. "Huh," you say lightly. "Whatever would make you think that?"

taglist: @probablyin-bed, @ali-r3n, @them-cute-boys, @themellowyellowmomma, @munsonssweets, @crazycat-ladys-blog, @wonderlandwalker, @vinaluvsu, @love-anonymous-writer, @josephquinnsfreckles

#blueywrites #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader

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musingsofahufflepuff · 2 months

Text

To Be Worshipped

Theodore Nott x fem!reader; smut

summary: studying can be so stressful, lucky for you, your boyfriend theodore is always eager to help you relax

a/n: you could consider this a companion piece to For You, I’d Fall from Grace, but the reader is receiving in this one 🫶 this was supposed to be up for lorenzo’s birthday but then i went out with coworkers and got tipsy, sorry. pure smut, 18+ only

It was almost one in the morning and you were still scribbling down notes for your History of Magic exam that was fast approaching. The slytherin common room was nice and quiet, the lamp at the desk illuminating a small radius around you. You were so lost in names and dates that you didn’t hear your boyfriend Theo approaching.

You jumped slightly at the sudden hands on your shoulders, looking behind you to see him looking at you with raised eyebrows. “What?”

He chuckles quietly, “I said you look stressed and that you need a break.” He tucks a stray bit of hair behind your ear.

“I dunno Teddy, I really want to do well on this and I don’t even know if I could relax right now if I do take a break.”

He bends down to whisper in your ear, “be a good girl and leave the relaxing bit to me.”

♡ ♡ ♡

As you spread your legs for him, he grabs your hips and yanks you to the edge of the bed, making you yelp. You prop yourself onto your forearms as he drops to his knees with a thud, his intense gaze never leaving your face. He gently pushes your legs open a bit wider.

Theo litters your left thigh with soft kisses and little nips, trailing towards your pussy. Before he finally reaches it, he pulls away and does the same to the other thigh, making you whine softly.

This time he does reach your heat, kissing the outside with soft lips. He spreads you open, admiring how gorgeous you are for a moment, “you’re already so wet for me, amore.”

Before you can fully process it, his mouth is on your folds, seemingly unable to hold himself back anymore. The feeling of his warm tongue against you alone is enough to pull a moan out of you. He takes a few tantalizingly slow licks through your folds, brushing his tongue over your clit before repeating the motion. It sends shock waves through you every time he touches it and in response he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs.

Once Theo is satisfied with his first taste, he flattens his tongue and runs it over your clit in firm, rhythmic motions. Another, softer moan escapes you. As he relentlessly rubs that spot, you lose the ability to keep yourself up, arms giving out from under you. Your back hits the mattress and Theo takes the movement as a cue to speed up. Moans turn into needy whimpers as he refuses to let up on pressure or speed.

One of his hands slides up your side to reach your breast and he takes a moment to gently knead at it. His fingertips ghost over a nipple, making your entire body twitch. His tongue continues to toy with that bundle of nerves as he begins rolling your nipple between his fingers, occasionally pulling on it.

He takes a moment to dip his tongue into your entrance and he moans. The vibrations cause your legs to shake and the sound contributes in making your brain go fuzzy. You jolt again when his other hand moves so his thumb can rub your clit, picking up a circular motion. As his thumb works against you, he fucks into you with his tongue.

Theo’s tongue slips back out to lick up to your clit once again, his fingers coming down to tease at your entrance instead. His other hand is still toying with your nipple and you can barely keep up with the assault of sensations.

He slides a finger into you, the mixture of your arousal and his saliva making it go in easily. His finger thrusts into you deep and hard, picking up speed as moans start to fall from your mouth. When Theo curls his finger, hitting your g-spot, you almost come undone then and there.

He pulls back a bit to watch you shake, finger still thrusting, “fuck dolcezza, you okay? You’re trembling.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and a frustrated groan leaves your lips.

“Teddy, please,” your thighs twitch as you lock his head in with your legs. Before you can beg more, his mouth is back on you and he’s adding a second finger.

His tongue teases at your clit like he was made for it and soon enough you’re bucking your hips up in time with his licks.

You feel a tightening in your core as heat settles there, moans falling out uncontrollably. Feeling that you’re close, Theo doubles down on the speed and pressure of his movements, causing your orgasm to hit you hard.

You let out a strangled moan of his name that comes out as more of a cry as you finish on his tongue.

Your thighs are shaking as you release his head, breathing ragged. It barely registers that Theo has gotten off his knees before his mouth is on yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. He pinches your nipple once again, causing you to let out something between a yelp and a moan.

“Oh dolcezza, you didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”

♡ ♡ ♡

Theo is lying on his back, looking like something out of a wet dream as he beckons you over. Once you’re within reach, he’s grabbing your hips and guiding you towards his head as you face the rest of his body. When he’s satisfied with your position he pulls you down against him, hot mouth back against your folds. Your abdomen spasms at the feeling, still a little sensitive from your first orgasm, but Theo doesn’t seem to care.

His tongue immediately finds your entrance and your arms are already starting to feel weak. You lean down against his toned torso, head landing on his thigh right beside his clothed dick.

His tongue desperately licks into you, as if he was starving for you. You moan louder than before, body moving to meet his thrusts. His hands never leave your hips, guiding your grinding on his face as he moans, needy.

Your gaze locks on his bulge and you begin to fumble with the waistband of his boxers. He lifts his hips to help when he feels you struggling. You’re able to get them pulled down, his hard cock springing free. A whimper escapes you.

All the while, his tongue does not let up, redirecting back to your clit, lapping less calculated than before.

Your hands claw at his thighs, causing a few pink lines to appear on his skin. In response, Theo’s fingers dig a little harder into your hips, keeping you grounded. You grind sloppily against his now still tongue as he lets you take control. You find a rhythm quickly, hitting your clit perfectly every time you press back down.

You take the tip of his cock in your mouth, needing something to stop you from crying out. Theo whimpers at the feeling of your soft mouth closing around his dick, hips twitching, as he tries not to thrust up into your throat.

Heat pools in your core once again and it gets harder to keep your rhythm. You feel a second orgasm building, hips involuntarily snapping against his mouth.

You pull off his cock as your orgasm crashes over you again, moaning out his name as he refuses to let up. His hands move to your thighs as you try to squirm away, holding you down.

His tongue laps at your folds, teasing at your clit until you can’t take it anymore. The only thing you can do is whimper as you spasm against his mouth. A third climax hits you quickly with his refusal to let up.

“Teddy, please, can’t.”

He lets you up just enough to speak, “you sure? I think you can be a good girl take more for me.” His hot breath against your skin makes your thighs shake uncontrollably. You bury your face into his thigh as a whine leaves you.

“Okay, okay amore,” he presses one last soft kiss to your folds before helping you turn around to face him. You collapse against his chest and you can hear his heart thumping wildly.

He gives you a kiss to the top of your head and murmurs, “we’ll save it for after you ace that exam.” You can’t stop the quiet moan that escapes your lips.

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott smut #harry potter #hp fandom #x reader #fem!reader #theo nott is a munch

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cobrakaisb · 2 months

Text

ballad of a homeschooled girl

summary: a new arrival at camp half-blood is anything but extraordinary, but your attachment to the broody head counselor and claims of a mother who supposedly has no children cause suspicions to arise

word count: 3.9k

featuring: broody!luke who is somewhat soft for reader, angst, reader seems delulu (but she’s not trust 🤞), mostly primer for my upcoming luke series

series masterlist ||| next part

the air is humid, causing the sheets to stick to your already clammy skin. you shift in the small cot, peeling the bedding off your skin, relaxing when the cool breeze caresses your arms and legs. it’s peaceful, and your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. just as you’re about to cross back into dreamland, a girl’s voice causes your eyes to open.

“she’s waking up! look!” she yells, and you know that she’s pointing at you.

you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows. you look around drowsily, trying to make sense of your surroundings. it’s when you make eye contact with a girl who has light pink hair, that you realize you’re no longer walking down a busy city street, hustling through the crowd. confusion settles in, and you wonder how you ended up in this infirmary, and whatever happened to that crazy lady who was trailing you. you open your mouth, trying to speak, but the girl just shoves a cup with a straw in it towards you.

“drink,” she demands.

you hesitate, uncertainty clear on your face. how can you even trust this girl? she seems to sense your emotions, because her hand rests gently on your forearm, pushing the drink closer to your chapped lips.

“drink,” she repeats, and you nod.

a small sip can’t hurt, you decide, and your lips wrap delicately around the straw. as you drink the liquid, you realize that it tastes like the pina coladas your dad would make with the fresh pineapple from the farmers market over the summer. you smile fondly at the memory, relaxing further into the uncomfortable mattress. you sigh in relief, feeling the throbbing in your head diminish. the tranquility, however, doesn’t last for long because the girl with the pink hair returns.

“i’m anna,” she starts, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “how much do you remember before you got here?” she continues.

“where is here exactly?” you ask, shifting in the bed to put some distance between the two of you.

her eyes widen, and something along the lines of confusion and distrust cross her features. she doesn’t say anything, just spending a few minutes analyzing you. a wave of self-consciousness washes over you; do you really look that distraught?

“you have no idea what you are, what we are,” she mumbles. there’s both amazement and sympathy in her voice.

“i’m a girl, if that’s what you’re asking,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

she laughs at you. “you’re in for a rude awakening,” anna replies between giggles.

the next day, you're walking out of the infirmary with strict instructions to go see chiron. you have no idea who this guy is, but all the med staff assure you that you’ll know when you see him. it’s only when you come face to face with a half-horse, half-human -- a centaur -- that you understand exactly what they meant. he smiles at you, and you assume that he’s trying to be comforting, but you still feel so uneasy.

“come. we have a lot to discuss,” he says, resting a firm hand on your shoulder as he leads you towards another room in the old victorian house.

you nod, walking along the veranda towards an open-aired room. the walk feels like a thousand years, as other campers point and whisper in your direction. you want to shrink in on yourself, but you don’t. miraculously, this air of confidence envelops you, and you march into the room with steady and sure strides. the other person in the room looks at you and chiron. he’s older, adorning black sunglasses and holding a diet coke. he rolls his eyes at the sight of you, getting up from his adirondack chair, grumbling about how much he hates kids and wishes he could have a drink. you raise your eyebrows, looking to chiron for an explanation, but he just shakes his head.

“sit, then we’ll talk,” he promises, gesturing to one of the empty seats.

once you’re both seated, it’s quiet. you don’t really have anything to say to the older man in front of you. you’re still confused by anna, and all the cryptic comments she made these past two days. you have no memory of how you got here, or why. nothing makes sense to you.

chiron seems to know that though, as he says, “i understand this can all be very confusing. so let’s start with the basics. you’re at camp half-blood, a safe haven for demi-gods. for people like you.”

he pauses for a moment, probably expecting you to say something, but you don’t. instead, you turn to the left, staring out to the water. it’s so serene, completely contrasting your inner turmoil. when chiron realizes you don’t have anything to say, he continues on:

“here you’ll prepare for battle, complete quests, make friends, and live your life free of worry. at the end of the summer, you’ll have the option of returning home, or remaining as a year-round camper. for now though, i’ll have one of our older, more experienced demi-gods give you a tour. unless of course, there’s something else you’d like to discuss?”

the way he’s looking at you suggests that you should have more to say -- some deep dark secret waiting to be revealed -- but you don’t. he waits, but once you don’t acknowledge his words, he sighs, rising from his seat. you follow, moving towards the door with him. as you hand grasps the handle, it tumbles open, and your body moves forward. thankfully, you don’t crash to your feet, or collide with the person in the doorway, but your cheeks flame in embarrassment.

when you look up, you’re surprised to see a boy. he looks to be about your age with his tall stature and muscular frame. his face is blank, almost bored looking, except for the hints of anger and annoyance in his brown eyes. his jaw is firm and locked, as he crosses his arms and gives you a once over. he hates me already, you think, and while you wish you didn’t care, it stings just a bit.

“this is luke, our head counselor. he’ll show you around camp, and help you settle into the hermes cabin, your temporary home,” chiron explains.

you nod towards luke, but don’t comment on anything chiron says. without another word, he turns on his heel and marches down the steps of the front porch. his pace is brisk, and his long strides make it hard for you to catch up with him, but you manage. once you’re walking side by side with him, it’s quiet between the two of you. he doesn’t point out any of the details, and his speed makes it hard for you to actually absorb anything.

“if you’re gonna walk so fast, the least you could do is explain what everything is,” you snap, annoyed.

he stops walking all together, huffs, and turns to face you. in the bright light of the sun, you notice his scar. it’s pale white and risen above the skin, alerting you that it’s still fairly new, and runs from the corner of his eye to his jawline. he should look scary or intimidating, but you only think that he looks angelic. you gasp softly at the realization, lips parting. his eyes dart down to your mouth, and there’s something almost sinister in his gaze when he finally starts talking.

“archery range, lava wall, and training arena,” he grumbles, pointing out all the spots closest to you.

instead of looking at all the places, your gaze is still focused on him. he rolls his eyes, facing forward and continuing on his walk.

“if you’re going to ask me to point stuff out, at least pay attention when i do,” he snaps.

now it’s your turn to roll your eyes as you follow him towards a horseshoe of cabins. each one is different and seems to represent their own thing. as you’re walking past the center, you notice that there are two lone cabins in the middle. you freeze. your head tilts as you observe the cabin on the right. you feel a strange pull towards it, and start following the invisible string tying you to the building.

“what are you doing?” luke asks, and from his tone you know his arms are crossed.

“i need to go there,” you explain, looking over your shoulder at him.

“the hera cabin?” he questions, following you.

you nod, continuing on your path towards the cabin. you climb up the stairs, and tentatively touch the door handle. it creaks open, daring you to come inside. you turn back to luke, who’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs with an uncertain look in his eyes.

“i have to go in here, but i have no idea why,” you explain, feeling something close to bashful.

he nods, swallowing an imaginary liquid, before climbing up the stairs after you. he waits patiently behind you, his left shoulder grazing your right as the two of you stand on the porch. you want to go inside, need to go inside, but the rational side of you is preventing you from doing so. it all feels like a trap.

luke, noticing your unease, mumbles, “there’s a barrier. nothing can hurt you here, not like they could out there.”

he doesn’t clarify what the other there and in here are, but you know exactly what he means. the creepy, often imaginative figures you’d see out in the city aren’t present here. you haven’t felt their presence since you woke up in that tiny bed in the infirmary. whatever is drawing you to this cabin, is something else, a higher being. before you can continue to deliberate, you push open the door and step inside.

it doesn’t look much like a cabin, rather a temple. the entire thing is made of marble, complete with large columns from floor to ceiling. on the walls, there are several engravings, and when you look closely, you recognize them as peacocks. your fingers trace over the intricate design, and your sense of anxiety quells tremendously. when you look towards the center, at the giant statue, you feel somewhat relieved.

“this is my cabin,” you announce. the statement shocks both you and luke.

“what? no it’s not. hera doesn’t have kids, that’s zeus’s job,” luke says.

“c’mon, time to go,” he continues, grabbing your shoulder and trying to push you out the door.

you dig your heels into the floor, refusing to move. you know everything you’ve said so far sounds crazy, is crazy, but you have to be here. you try to come up with an explanation, anything to make sense of the situation, but remain empty handed.

“you’re right. let’s just go. sorry,” you reply, letting him lead you back out the door and down the stairs.

it isn’t until you step foot in the hermes cabin, his cabin, that you realize your duffle bag is missing. all the other kids, which is a surprisingly large number, have various personal belongings scattered around their sleeping area. some of them have comic books, others have small trinkets, and a couple even dare to show off their stuffed animals. luke walks further into the cabin, the crowd parting like the red sea. they’re quiet, and watch eagerly as he opens a closet door and pulls out a well-loved sleeping bag. the whispers don’t start until he waves you over, and places the item directly next to his bed.

“you sleep here,” he mumbles, pointing to the spot on the floor.

“what? i told you about the other cabin,” you shout, frustration present in your voice.

the hermes cabin is quiet, all of them listen in on your conversation with their head counselor, their older brother.

“and i told you to drop it,” he replies, and there’s a subtle warning in his voice. you can’t decide if he’s trying to say this isn’t the time or place or if he’s insinuating that you’re fucking crazy and he wants nothing to do with it.

“where’s your stuff?” he asks, completely changing the subject.

you notice he does that a lot, but answer, “i don’t know. my duffle’s missing.”

his eyebrows furrow at your words, and he crosses his arms again. he throws his head back, gritting his teeth.

“alright! who took her stuff? cough it up, let's go!” he shouts.

luke’s met with silence, which irks him even more. he turns away from you, facing the swarm of pre-teens and teens. he flashes them his most unamused look, one he’s been carrying with you all day, but continues to wait patiently.

“somebody better own up to it, or i’m taking away dessert privileges,” he announces.

the room immediately grows noisy with everyone whispering to each other. some kids are trying to determine who it could be, while others are fully putting the blame on their siblings. there’s even one girl who whispers about how luke never does this for anyone, so you must be special.

you try to come up with an answer to luke’s question. who took your bag? but you can’t seem to figure it out. you know you had it with you when you left your dad’s house, but then things turned messy extremely fast. you remember the strap when that weird dog thing followed you into the alley, and how you grabbed it by the handles to shove it in the overhead compartment of the amtrak. but after that, everything gets kind of blurry; days melting into one. finally, you decide that it must not have made it to camp.

you tap luke’s bicep, and he turns away from the crowd to meet your eyes. “i don’t even think it made it here,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip.

luke sucks in a breath, nodding his head before turning back to the crowd. “never mind guys, as you were,” he dismisses.

you crouch down, hoping to set up your sleeping bag and take a nap, but he stops you with a hand on your arm. he gestures for you to follow him with a tilt of his head, and you agree. he leads you towards the back of the cabin, outside a supposedly hidden door. when you step out into the bright sunlight, you stop and let your hand cover your eyes, but luke is already walking towards a forest. you follow, easily catching up since he’s walking slower, and match his strides. once the two of you are far enough into the woods, out of the earshot of nosey campers, he sits down in the grass, beckoning for you to follow.

“tell me everything you remember,” he says, a serious look on his face.

you look down, fingers twiddling with the strands of grass. you pull your knees up to your chest, wrapping your right arm around your kneecaps as you continue to braid the grass with your left hand. from your observations, you know luke is anything but patient, but he doesn’t push you to say anything. he just sits there, palms splayed on the grass as he leans back on them, looking at the fluffy white clouds and clear blue sky.

“i don’t know how i got here. i keep replaying everything in my head, but i wasn’t even near the woods. then, i was just here,” you whisper, finally looking towards him.

you find that he’s already looking at you. intense brown eyes meeting your lost and confused gaze. he nods his head, signaling that he’s trying to process your words; looking for a meaning in the code, one that even you can’t decipher.

“why’d you leave?” he asks, and you stop fiddling with the grass. “your house i mean…why leave?” he continues.

he’s looking down at his bright red converse, and there’s a certain vulnerability in his gaze that you’re all too familiar with. you raise your eyebrows at his expression, thinking about what his question reveals about him. maybe he doesn’t have a family. and that thought just makes you sad, so you decide to answer him honestly.

“i love my dad, but there were too many odd things happening, things he couldn’t explain, and stuff my therapist didn't believe. there were winged horses, their manes the color of the pitch black night. or dogs the size of a dumpster, and then that brunette lady who follows me around everywhere. i just wanted to keep him safe, so i left,” you explain, meeting luke’s eyes for the second time.

“i get that, wanting to protect your family, i mean. i’d do the same for my sisters,” he replies.

you hum in acknowledgment, leaning back on your elbows and extending your legs in a straight position. you tilt your head back, enjoying the warm sun on your exposed neck, and the soft rustle of the flora around you. you turn your head, eyes squinting to look at luke, and your gaze is immediately drawn to the scar on the left side of his face.

“what happened to you?” you ask, tentatively.

luke sucks in a breath of air. his jaw clenches and anger swarms around in his already dark eyes. his hands ball into fists at his sides, and you realize that maybe that was too personal of a question.

“you don’t have to answer,” you backtrack, “it just seems like a story worth telling.”

he laughs bitterly, “it’s not. my dad sent me on a fucking joke of a quest, and this was the result. all pain, no glory.”

you frown at his words. you don’t want to pity luke, because you know that luke doesn’t want that from you. he wants people to understand him; to listen to his feelings of resentment and disappointment, and despite only knowing him for an hour max, you decide that you’d do that for him.

“don’t beat yourself up about it. the gods are stupid anyway, my mother’s cabin doesn’t even have a bed for me to sleep in,” you say.

there you go again with the mother thing.

“your mother can’t be hera,” luke announces, finality in his tone.

“i know that. but i know that she is. she’s the one that’s been helping me; the one who brought me here,” you explain, finally making the connection.

luke shakes his head in disbelief, “i think you’re going crazy from lack of food.”

you open your mouth, ready to protest his accusations, but luke cuts you off with a fierce look and wave of his hand. he stands up from the grass, holding his hand out to you. you huff, but wrap your hand around his, as he helps life you off the ground and to your feet. once you’re on your feet, you go to remove your hand from his, but you find yourself face to face. he’s already looking at you with a mix of admiration and curiosity. no one’s ever looked at you that way, and you can’t fathom why he is.

“what? is there dirt on my face?” you ask, pulling hand from his to wipe at your chin.

he laughs, loud and joyous, then answers, “no. you’re just different.”

you huff, again, and cross your arms defensively. “my therapist says i’m just unique,” you say.

luke laughs again. his shoulders shake and he has to stop walking to gain his composure. you wait the few minutes it takes for him to collect himself, and feel the smile taking over your features. there’s something enchanting about his laugh, you think, and that thought scares you. you shouldn’t be getting this attached. not yet.

“can we go to lunch, please? i’m so hungry,” you complain, breaking the aura of radiance and joy.

the sound of your voice sobers luke up, and he nods in agreement. he doesn’t even acknowledge you any further, just walks through the path in the woods, towards the center of camp. his strides are back to being quick and long, and you struggle to keep up with him. but you chose to ignore it; you shut him out.

the walk back feels infinitely longer, and you’re relieved to see the dining pavilion. it’s a large mess hall, with picnic tables inside the building as opposed to out. each one of them holds various campers, and you notice how there is a giant fire pit burning in the middle of the room. it seems counter intuitive; no need for the warmth of the fire in the stifling summer heat, which becomes more apparent now that luke’s cold nature is back.

you chance a look at said boy, and find that he’s already watching you. without saying a word, his hand comes to rest at the small of your back; palm splayed on the region between your jean shorts and the hem of your bright orange camp shirt. he gently pushes you forward, and you comply, following his lead. as you walk, you hear the campers whispering. they’re not subtle.

“that’s the new girl.”

“anna says she’s crazy, has no clue what a demigod even is.”

“i heard she’s not even a real demigod, just someone to bewitch luke.”

“oh he’s bewitched alright.”

you clench your jaw at their words, an angry fire in your eyes. you hate when people talk about you behind your back, and you’re not afraid to let these thirteen year olds know that. you whip your head around, so fast you’re surprised you don’t whiplash. as your mouth opens, ready to spew out insults, luke pushes you forward and away from the culprits. your anger only shifts from them to him.

“what’s your problem?” you demand, stopping in your tracks to face him head on.

“i’m not the one with the problem here,” luke mumbles.

for some reason, that statement hurts you more than it should. you laugh bitterly, blinking back the tears that are threatening to come out. it’s been a day and everyone already hates me.

“right, i get it,” you reply, stepping away from him when he tries to reach out for you.

“no that’s not what i meant,” luke says, desperation in his voice.

“fuck this. i don’t even want to be here anyways,” you announce.

before he can say or do anything, you’re out the door.

you wander through the camp grounds, fighting off tears. there’s no reason for you to be acting like this; people have always hated you, so why would camp half-blood be different? because it was supposed to be different, you thought. the path you meant to take, back to the hermes cabin, veers off course until you’re standing in front of the hera cabin. you don’t hesitate this time, to climb the steps and take refuge inside.

once the door closes, and the lock clicks, you come face to face with the looming statue. her eyes pierce your soul, and you sink back in on yourself. it’s a statue, you remind yourself, and that boosts your confidence somehow. you look her in the eyes, and swear her gaze meets yours.

“why would you bring me here?” you ask, voice wobbly from the tears.

“i hate it here! and i hate you!” you shout, stomping your foot like a child. you feel like a child.

you sink down to your knees, forehead coming to rest on the ruffle of her toga. the marble is cool and smooth against your hot skin. the temperature change grounds you, and slowly, your tears subside.

you decide, in that very moment, that these people won’t see you cry. ever.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan angst #luke castellan pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #cobrakaisb writing #all american bitch series

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tiredmamaissy · 6 months

Text

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode III

Calm After the Storm

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, heat cycle, extreme knotting, marking, scenting, territorial/possessive behaviour, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, belly bulge, actual breeding, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: 6.3k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Happy halloween guys! I know I literally fell off the face of the earth and I will make another post to address that. But I know I haven’t participated for @pandoraslxna ‘s kinktober event (I’m so sorry bby) but if I could only participate for one of the days it would be today for sure. So I definitely wanted to get this out before midnight. It’s not purely a/b/o but honestly entails all the aspects of it. I think we can all definitely tell who’s the alpha and omega here (Ralak is alpha material hands down, ofc). I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I apologize for such a wait <3 Also I feel like I’m a bit rusty, so apologies for any typos, errors, or just plain suckish writing.

ALSO a big happy birthday to my babe @neteyamsoare <3 love you and hope it was a good one!!

Synopsis: Your heat starts to subside, but Ralak’s rut is only getting stronger. What could possibly go wrong?

<- Previous -> Next

——

Only an hour has passed before you feel your not-so-gentle giant stirring behind you, waking you from your sleep. You’d both been on your sides for too long now and everywhere seems to ache. You whine when you feel his hips shift against you, tugging at the immense pressure between your hips. The bulge protruding from your lower abdomen has barely gone down and you feel almost as full as you did when he initially emptied his load inside you.

Silken strands of his hair fall onto your prickled skin as he props himself up on his elbow from behind you, perching his chin on your throbbing shoulder. He inhales deeply – longingly. His hot breath gently blows against your neck just as you feel his arm snake under your leg and yank it back in one rough tug.

“Ralak.” His name falls from your lips through a nearly inaudible croak. “‘m so full.” You barely mumble out, rolling your head to the side. Yet, the flame within you is without a doubt reigniting with a vengeance.

And he can sense it.

Simply by the way you push back into him, making that bulge in your belly protrude a little more. His large hand resting on your stomach can indubitably feel it. And the smile that it puts on his face is almost baleful, bearing his lengthy canines that yearn to sink deep into you once more. “Sorry, tìyawn [love].”

He just can’t help it.

No matter how hard he tried. The desire—no, the need—to fuck into you and claim you as his time and time again is… irrepressible. In this moment, nothing else felt better than your little, used cunt hugging his cock so tightly that it almost hurts. He yearns to fill you over and over. Again and again until your womb is overflowing with his seed. The mere thought has his balls pulling tight to his body, firming up by the second all just to flood your womb again.

“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak growls into your neck, sliding his hand down to your inner thigh. “I will try to be–” He groans slowly, his pointer finger now burrowing itself between your tied pelvises, “–flrr [gentle].”

The final accented word comes out roughly, and if it weren’t for his finger slipping past his knot and into your cunt, you would’ve probably heard it clearly. You yelp out when he traces his finger around his knot, stretching your already taut skin, attempting to work a little space to allow his bulge to slip out.

It's all consuming and you’re simply too overwhelmed with his size that you fail to realise how your body is synced with his and bearing down to push him out. All whilst he’s struggling to fight the snap of hips to avoid hurting you. But the tugging is nothing like you’ve felt before adn you can finally understand why he was so insistent in the first place.

ut there was no getting out of this now, not that you even wanted to.

“It–it’s…” You brace yourself by grabbing onto his forearm, “...t-too big.”

“Ngaytxoa [sorry]” He huffs out his fourth apology, losing himself once again as his hips finally jerk back out of his control.

Pop.

His knot slips out of you with such force that the squelch it makes is as loud as your whimper. It’s so wet and slippery that his cock follows behind his knot, sliding out of you effortlessly. He’s more than half-hard yet so heavy and hung it rests close to your knee. Then you feel it. His cum dribbling down your thigh, still warm and sticky as if he just filled you up seconds ago.

It’s such a conflicting feeling — a mixture of relief and pent up frustration. Your heat is still in full bloom, despite it being so quenched until you’re almost nauseated. It’s as if you were two pieces perfectly linked together, allowing nature to run its course with no second thought. He grunts when he feels the crisp night air against his groin, his cock now springing up to its full length in just a few seconds.

He, too, feels some sort of feverish way now. Itching to be back inside your warmth, enveloped by your gummy, slimy walls. He opts to pepper wet kisses along your neck, and then up to your jaw, lingering there as he tries to distract himself from the ache to shove it back inside you.

Until it becomes too much.

“Tanhì.” He moans into your ear, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open as his tongue trails the skin on the back of your neck. “Need you.” It’s his way of begging for permission. Permission to slam his cock back inside you and hammer into you until the annoying itch deep in his core goes away again. You were the only one to make it go away. To stop the hurt. “Please.” He whines out a plea of desperation, now gritting his teeth from the way his stomach is tensing. “Now.”

But that last plea wasn’t much of a question, no. It was more of a demand. A way of saying, ‘give it to me, or I’ll take you on my own terms’.

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath, sliding your free hand down your side to hook it under your leg. You pull it back and reposition your hips to give him access to your cunt. “P-Put it in, ‘Lak.”

Ralak’s hips begin to stutter — the leaking, mushroomy tip of his cock now repeatedly prodding between your puffed up folds. His breath turns raggedy as he tries to guide himself back inside you handsfree. Your slick is overflowing, making it even more difficult for him to align himself with your entrance. The frustration brewing within him bubbles over when his cockhead glides past your swollen clit instead of sinking in your cunt. So he pulls back in one swift move and —

Thrust.

Your body jolts from how quickly he slams every inch of his cock inside you, forcing you split-open. Ralak huffs a shaky sigh of relief, his breathing growing a little steadier now that he’s deep inside his mate. Meanwhile, your mouth hangs agape yet no sound falls from your lips. Your eyes well up with tears and your ears lay flat against your skull. Your body is in complete submission to the beast dominating it and there’s nothing else you can do but give in to the pleasure.

“Your scent.” He whispers open-mouthed, tips of his canines grazing the nape of your neck. “It is driving me crazy.” You release the breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. You didn’t even know what to say. Not like you could really say much right now anyways. You’re too lost in the fog of your own heat. For once, Ralak is doing most of the talking. “It makes me…” He snaps his hips back, only leaving half of his length inside you. “...lose myself completely.”

A deep roll of his hips.

A lewd moan dripping off your lips.

“How do you do that?” He huffs, pressing his teeth against your neck. You don’t answer yet again. You just can’t find the words. Not right now. Not when he’s so deep inside you. “Hm?” A deep growl vibrates up his throat, his teeth just barely piercing the first layer of your silken skin.

“I—” You’re cut off by your own squeal when you feel the sting of his bite. Your breath catches in your throat and he immediately unlatches, lapping at the nicked skin to soothe it. “Sorry.” He whispers breathlessly, planting a quick kiss on each of your marks. “Sorry. Sorry.” A few more apologies flow from his mouth, as if he were drunk off of too much fermented fruit. Somewhat lucid but still so spaced. “I cannot —ngh— help myself.”

Thrust.

“‘M sorry.”

He knows he went a little too deep just now. But you feel so fucking good around his cock.

Chomp.

Another mark. Right on the bend of your shoulder, next to your first.

“Ngaytxoa [I’m sorry]”

A small cry from your quivering lips.

“S-Stop. No more apologies. I am yours to do what you p-please with.” You finally get out in one, weary breath.

Ralak’s languid, deep thrusts are laced with desperation. And with each stroke they become harsher and harsher. Faster and faster. Now he’s got your full permission he lets go once more, falling into the thick fog of his rut.

Within seconds his cock is pumping in and out of you, his half-deflated knot continuously prodding and poking at your entrance. The tip of his cock drags against your walls, putting an immense pressure right on your sweet spot. Yet still, sounds barely fall from your flushed lips. You’re too out of it. Too focused on the raw sensations rippling through you all at once. His overwhelming pheromones. His marking. His relentless pounding.

Rather, hot tears well over your eyes and stream down your face.

He can’t stop slamming himself inside you. He doesn’t want it to stop. It’s absolute rapture and he’s unapologetically drowning in it.

“Tanhì. Tanhì.” He groans needily. “y/n.”

He only says your name when he’s serious about something.

And hearing it drip from his tongue onto the nape of your neck has your hairs standing high and your clit throbbing.

“Eywa. Yes, ‘lak? T-Tell me what you need.” You blubber out, tightening your grip on his forearm.

“Haa — spread yourself.” He demands, prompting you to tuck your leg back as far as you can. His pace quickens, hips striking you with a sinful vengeance. But no matter how hard he fucks you, or how deep he buries himself inside you — its just not enough. He needs to be closer. To be deeper. To really be inside you. To knot you.

“More.” He grunts, slowing his thrusts into rocking, grinding himself inside your slippery, tight cunt.

You go to tug at your leg and meet nothing but resistance. “I-I’m trying.” You can feel it now. Perhaps it’s the bond or maybe it’s the way his knot is working you open but he’s growing more and more frustrated by the thrust.

“Mmmh. Wider.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” You’re quick to answer, feeling nothing but pressure from the way he’s trying to shove more of himself inside you.

“Agh.” He growls in frustration, pulling out of you and grabbing you by the ankle to flip you onto your back.

Ralak situates himself between your legs without hesitation and pushes them so far back your knees graze against the tips of your ears. You can barely breathe in this position and are having a hard time seeing anything else but his raging cock at your entrance. You can feel the burn in your thighs from how far back he’s shoving your knees but that sting is masked by the pleasure of him plunging himself back into your pussy.

The moan that rips from your lips is obscene and like no other. The crown of his cock is drilling itself directly into your sweet spot, causing it to swell with unadulterated pleasure. And each time he pulls out just to sink it back inside you he winds you in the process – making you sputter out absolute nonsense. Even he knows you're close, despite being in the thick of his rut.

But frankly, he doesn't care.

All he’s concerned about is satisfying his own urges.

“Not enough.” He grits through his teeth as his eyes shift to an even deeper shade of mauve. “‘ts not enough.” He pants, voice laced with something of worry. Panic that this feeling won’t go away. It makes you panic too, wondering if you’re doing enough for him. If he’s going to take even more from you. If you can manage it.

“You’re okay. Do what you need.” You try to reassure him, grasping your feet and holding them back–opening yourself up even more. But fuck, that only made things worst for you.

And by worst, you mean better. It feels like you’ll burst any second now, especially with how much pressure is on your bladder. “Fu-ck me. God, fuck–ahaa-fuck me.”

His brows bunch together as he peers down at you, beads of sweat rolling off his face to drip onto your chest. His jaw is so tense it looks as if it may fracture. He’s grunting with every push and huffing with every pull.

“Right there! Fuck. I’m close. I’m so fucking close. I-I need you to cum i-inside me. Oh—please ‘lak. Please!” Your cries are choked and muffled, breaths short and raggedy. The heat pooling in your core is unbearable. It needs out. Now.

Ralak swallows. Hard. Through his own haze he can see that you’re in need too. He shuffles closer to you, tucking his feet under him to assume a squatting position. Now he’s all but on top of you, folding you into a merciless mating press. This one shift in position has you coming undone on his cock, coating it in your thick slick as you sob from the white hot pleasure. The force of your climax has you pushing him out and only has him drilling himself further inside you. If it’s not for the way your pussy walls tighten around him surely his knot would have popped inside you by now.

He’s still fucking into you, right through your orgasm and towards his.

“Say what you need.” He panics through a tightened jaw, grinding himself inside you – pushing his knot against the resistance.

You know what he’s actually asking from you. To say something. Anything to tip him over the edge. To rid him of this maddening itch.

“Breed me.” You whisper, locking eyes with him. You watch as his pupils blow into thin rings and then constrict into nothing but dots. You try to swallow what spit you could, attempting to clear your throat. “Breed me. Please.”

“Then take it.” He lets loose a sinister growl, putting all his weight into his final push. For the first time, you feel his knot pop inside you, veiny and as thick as can be. You let out a high-pitched whimper, and feel your teeth begin to chatter. That doesn’t make him ease up, though. He continues to grind himself inside you until you feel the familiar, warm sensation of his sticky seed spraying inside you – filling your womb to the brim. His cock throbs wildly, in perfect synchrony with his own heartbeat, and soon yours too as the bond equilibrates your souls once more.

Strangely, you thought you’d be sore and overstimulated by now, but your body has never felt better. You’re full and content and more than satiated. Ralak heaves a sigh — one of pure relief. It’s glued to his face. All panic washes away and he’s feeling more at peace the longer he remains inside you. He’s rigid, firmly holding his position on top of you — ensuring he empties every single drop inside you. Yet, his heavy lidded eyes begin to close.

“I can’t breathe.” You mumble, snapping him out of his tranquil trance. His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth pulls into a little smirk. He exhales a breathy chuckle and carefully manoeuvres you both into a more comfortable position. He settles himself on his back and supports your body whilst positioning you on top of him.

“Better?” Ralak husks, drawing circles into your back with the tip of his finger.

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to full capacity and then slowly release it. “Much.”

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]” His accented words slur together as he dozes off.

“Nga yawne lu oer, Ralak [I love you].”

——

Ralak woke repeatedly throughout the night for his fill. If it wasn’t him, it was you. Waking up in a clammy state, shaking and nuzzling into his chest from your heat. You honestly thought that the more time passed — the more rounds you went — the more he would calm down.

But, you thought wrong.

He’d start by leaving tender kisses wherever he could, whispering he’d do his best to be as gentle as he can be. Then, he’d slip a finger inside you, stretching you out in attempts to pull his knot out without hurting you. But it would always sting, even just a little bit. After that he’d beg. Pleading with you to let him back in, and apologize right after plunging inside you regardless of your answer—which was always yes.

At this point your own foggy haze would take over. Perhaps it was your body��s way of coping with the overstimulation, but you pined for every single second of it. Sometimes it would last for a few minutes. Where he’d be quick to fold you in two and growl in the shell of your ear, ‘you’re mine, haah — fuck, take me’.

Sometimes it was closer to an hour. Where you’d both be so tired you’d take breaks, lazily taking turns fucking each other, telling him to ‘put it back in’ whenever he’d slip out. But one thing remained the same every time. You’d sob when you’d cum and then beg him to breed you. And he would, without a doubt, breed you.

Mercilessly.

And with each breeding, he’d lose himself a little deeper. Knotting you over and over. Marking you repeatedly until your body’s littered with bites. Until you were so fucked out you’d lost the feeling in your legs. Until your throat was so dry you could barely speak. Until you needed a break.

——

“Wait.” You crawl towards the bedside table with wobbly knees. “Just need some water, Lak.”

Ralak pounces on you, knocking you onto your stomach and pressing himself against you. You extend an arm out, fingers splayed out and shaking from you trying to reach the cup of water Ka’ani left there more than a day ago. Ralak grabs your hips and hoists you up onto your knees and elbows, and mounts you from behind.

“Water. Water, Lak.” You beg with a hoarse cry, only for him to line the crown of his cock up with your sopping cunt. He growls next to your ear as he stretches over you and reaches for the cup of water, filling his cheeks and putting it back down within a couple seconds. With a quick grip of your jaw, he turns your head and meets his lips with yours.

Before you can process what’s going on you’re gulping down water as fast as you can. And when he pulls away, you’re yet again met with the hazy eyes of his rut. That’s when it dawns on you that whilst your heat is coming to an end, his rut is only getting stronger.

Rather than looking away, he locks his gaze onto you, just so he can watch your face screw as he slams his cock inside of you in one, hard thrust. It works a sudden, breathy moan from your mouth, eyebrows pinching together from the stretch. He holds his position, basking in the warmth and tightness of your cunt as his breath goes shaky.

“Wait.” You mumble weakly, shoving a hand behind you to push against his lower stomach. “Please.”

For the first time, you were telling him to stop.

His jawbone flutters as his eyes search yours. Restraint plasters to his face, and the only audible thing is his heavy breathing. He nods. Just once. A firm and intentional nod. He swallows the residual water left in his mouth and tenderly pulls out of you. You hear the thud of his footsteps quiet down as he nears the marui door, and then the splash of the water when he dives into the rough sea.

It’s pouring outside.

Storming, actually. Thundering and lightning. Yet he feels this is the only way he’d be able to resist the urge to storm back in and fuck you. But the instinct to protect his mate, even if it’s from himself, is more than enough to give him the willpower to walk away.

You take this moment to just breathe, turning your head to face the plush bed beneath you as you gather your thoughts. Did he just show that much restraint? Enough to walk away from a female na’vi during her heat cycle… all whilst in the height of his own rut cycle?

“Lekye’ung [insane]” You mutter, using your trembling hand to grab and bring the cup to your lips. They, too, are sore and chapped. Having gone so many hours without any food or water, you knock it back, shaking the cup to get out every drop. Finished already? You think to yourself, looking inside the cup with hazed vision, confirming it’s indeed empty.

After setting it back down onto the table, you slump back into the bedhead, relaxing your body. You’re sore. Actually, sore is an understatement. Every single muscle and fiber in your body burns—and that isn’t entirely due to your heat either now that it’s finally subsiding. Perhaps you should be taking this time to have a look at your… condition, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

So you give in, sinking further and further into the bed as you doze off.

—

A few hours go by and Ralak returns with a net of fish thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of fresh water perched on his hip. He carefully sets down the bucket and rests the net next to the fire pit. He’s cautious not to wake you, nor come too close to you. Ralak ignites the fire and fans the flame. As quietly as possible, he prepares and cooks the fish, setting them aside to wrap in the leaves of a spartan tree.

Since coming to Awa’atltu, one of your biggest adjustments—despite the obvious—has been your change in diet. Fish weren’t uncommon back home, but they certainly weren’t the main source of food. You prefer the other foods here, your favourite being what you call ‘inland boar’, which is an animal that resembles what your father calls a ‘pig’ from his star.

But not even that, (boar) could smell better than this (fish).

The aroma alone rouses you from your sleep.

Your eyes open to a dark room and a glowing fire pit. The fire is out but the wood remains hot, shifting among different shades of orange and red. Ralak sits beside it, with his back leaning against the support beam of the pod. His arms are crossed over his chest and his knees are slightly bent. It’s hard to see more than just his silhouette with the lack of moonlight.

“That smells good.” You rasp. Ralak’s eyes fly open to reveal a familiar shade of deep blue. Like the sea. They glow and flicker before you, examining you now that you’re sitting up out of bed.

Crack.

A bolt of lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the room. For a moment, you were able to see every single bike mark, scratch and bruise you’ve given him. It also reveals that he’s shaking. Trembling from being wet and cold, or possibly from the strain he was putting himself through from just being in the same room as you.

Ralak moves quickly, shuffling to his feet and going right for the leaf that holds a few sloppily rolled fish. He brings it to you, setting it slowly on your lap, being overly cautious not to touch you. Grabbing your cup on the table, he dunks it in the bucket and sets it beside you.

“Eat.” He whispers, backing away to sit next to the pit. You watch as he slides down the beam and into a sitting position, and then glance down at your food. Saliva pools in your mouth from the aroma wafting up your nose.

You’re hungry.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, hastily stuffing an entire roll into your mouth.

You moan as you chew, nodding your head from how good it tastes. It’s hard to swallow, given that you bit off more than you could chew—literally—but when it finally goesdown you feel your stomach grumble for more. Ralak watches you intently. A wince screwing his face with every swallow he witnesses. And when you finish, you chug down your water and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Another crack of lightning strikes, and then a low, lengthy rumble of thunder follows.

“That was… one of the best you’ve made, lak.” You say with a wobbly smile, slowly getting on your feet to wash your hands. The bucket is nearby your mate, who is still fixed in position. Although he remains unmoving, his eyes follow your every move. You shake your hands to dry them and shuffle over to Ralak and sit next to him.

“so… how do you feel?” You ask quietly, raising your hand to check if he’s feverish. He turns his head before your hand can make contact with his skin and his gaze locks onto the charred wood in the fire pit.

“Fine.” Ralak mutters.

Eyebrows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try and look him in the eye. Your brows relax when you come to the realisation that he’s already taken care of himself. And only Eywa knows how many times.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I would have—”

“Ma’ muntxate [my wife]”He croaks, swiftly turning his head to look directly into your eyes. “Oeru txoa livu [please forgive me].”

“Txoa? [forgive?] What for, ma’ muntxatan? [husband]”

“I have… neglected you.” He’s struggling to speak. You can hear it in the strain of his voice.

Regardless, none of his words are really making any sense to you right now. How has he been neglectful? Despite the circumstances, it’s obvious he’s been trying his hardest to be good to you. Somehow, even conjuring up the strength to pull out of you and walk away.

“Ralak. You have not. Please, I—”

“Look at yourself.” He snaps, taking a quick glance at your body before dropping his head in his hands.

Crack.

Conveniently, another strike of lightning and boom of thunder, revealing exactly what he’s talking about. For a few seconds, you’re met with the sight of your battered body—scabbed and bruised. You lift your head, staring at his shameful demeanour. But the more you stare, the more you see your own reflection.

“And have you looked at yourself?” Your words bounce as you shuffle closer to him. “I bet you can’t even feel all that damage I’ve done to you.” You coo, using your thumb to gently graze past an easy six-inch scratch mark on his bicep. “I haven’t been so gentle with you either.”

Ralak shakes his head, allowing it to sink further into his hands. “You were starved.” He mumbles into the palms of his hands.

You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin in the dip between them. Your eyes wander over to the fire pit, catching sight of the outline of a few fish rolls.

Has he really punished himself by not eating?

“Have you eaten?” You ask, resting a gentle hand on his back.

“No need.”

“You should, you know. Don’t want you starving on me, lak.” You say lightheartedly, allowing your hand to slide up his spine and to the base of his skull.

He lets loose a quiet groan, fighting the twitch of his ears. Your fingers smooth over the base of his kuru, playing with the braid encasing that covers it. “If you do that—”

“Do what?” You whisper coyly, quickly running your hand down the length of his kuru.

His spine immediately straightens, his head lifting from his hands. The tips of your fingers gently make their way to his tendrils, carefully teasing them as they try to wrap around your digits. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, allowing a shiver to run through him. It feels like your fingers were inside his skull, tickling his brain in the best way possible.

Reaching for your kuru with your free hand, you bring it up and over your shoulder. You lean into Ralak, your lips only inches away from his. You pull away your fingers to grip and pull his queue forth. The loss of contact has him sitting up straight, opening his eyes to look at you.

“I will not let you suffer alone.” You whisper, lessening the distance between the two of you, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. He stills himself, even limiting his own breath so as not to make any sudden moves. “Okay?”

You wait for just a moment. For him to say something. To move away. But he remains stock-still, waiting for you to initiate this. You smile, your top teeth briefly rubbing against this lower lip, and lock your lips with his. He exhales through his nose, coming to life from your kiss and returning it full force. You take this as a good sign. A sign that you’ve broken through that wall once again, and bring your kurus together — making tsaheylu [the bond].

Both your eyes fly open, blown pupils staring into one another as your spirits unify. You both pull back, shoulders and chests heaving from your quick, unsteady breaths. You feel all that he feels – the frustration, the panic, the tension. It’s all fading, now finally nearing the end. He feels your subsiding heat, your soreness, your overpowering urge to care for him.

Before another second could pass, your lips crash into each other again—tongues intertwining as they explore one another’s mouth. Using his hand to support your upper back, he slowly lowers you onto the woven floor, parting your legs with his free hand. He situates himself between them, pressing his crotch firmly against yours. He’s warm, just like the toasty fire pit next to you.

I will try to be gentle. Ralak thinks to you, just like he’s been promising to be night after night.

I know you will. You smile, moving your kisses down his jawline as he slides his hands between your sticky pelvises.

——

It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the synchronous heat that had you and your mate locked away in your marui pod for a little over two days. Your back and thighs–and honestly everywhere else– still ache but outside of that, you feel like a brand new person. You weren’t able to confidently say that Ralak feels the same way, however.

Of course, he was adamant on limiting intimacy until you were ‘healed and recovered’. But, he had a bounce in his step. As if he were physically lighter. As if the weight of six years of pent up sexual frustration and self neglect melted off his back when you satiated the ‘insatiable’.

The constant aftercare was almost sickening. Even after most of your marks had faded he remained adamant on treating them with your own omaticayan herbs from back home. He praised them at every use, thanking your people for making such exceptional ’umtsa [medicine].

But as you entered the second week, after tons of reassurance, things dissipated and went back to normal. Ralak went back to his usual routine—fishing, hunting, responding to a few calls to Tonowari and your father. Ralak, without a doubt, made a vow to you and himself not to initiate anything until you were more than healed. But nonetheless clung to you in the nights.

He even, in fact, added a new step into your usual nighttime regimen. As usual, it began with the snuggles and tucking you under his arm just right, providing you with enough warmth to endure the cool night air. Then, he would release the perfect amount of pheromones to get you drowsy enough for bed.

But recently, he’s spent the past seven nights delaying the nightly routine until he’s had his fill of your scent. He’d lay himself down on your chest, nuzzling his face into your bosom and just breathe. You allowed it, thinking it was his own newfound way to wind down for bed.

Yet, the real reason was much different.

——

Right on the two week mark, Tsireya had roped you in with helping her with some of her Tsakrem duties. You were always happy to help her though, as it meant getting away from the marui pod for a little even if it meant being poked and prodded at.

And it certainly didn’t take long for that to happen.

Tsireya lets out a frustrated sigh and plops the medicinal pouch she’s weaving in her lap. “I can no longer ignore it, y/n. You smell different.”

You lift your head, tearing your focus from your task of weaving and look at her with a puzzled expression on your face. You bring the end of your tail to your nose and sniff, but smell… nothing. “Like what?” Her brows lower and her eyes glisten with concern. She purses her lips and unsheathes the lengthy pin from its casing and grabs your hand. “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the sting.

Prick.

“Sss—ah! You need to be careful with how deep you go with that, you know. You could really—” The tsahik in training puts the wooden stick to her tongue and stares at you wide eyed, mouth agape. It’s as if she wants to speak but the words are lodged in her throat. “What? What is it?”

“You—perhaps I am wrong.” She stutters, quickly sheathing the tool back into its casing. “You should see my mother, y/n.”

“What? Why? Just tell me.” The words come out in a haste, and your voice is laced with panic. Do you have some sort of disease of the sea? Is there a cure?

“You — you are with child.” Her lips tremble as she says the words in an uncertain tone of voice.

“What?” You stare at her dumbfounded, a little caught off guard by her choice of words.

“Pregnant. You’re pregnant. But I am likely mistaken. I am only in training. Which is why I said you should see my moth—”

“Oh. No. You’re… you’re probably right, Tsireya.” You swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks, avoiding eye contact.

“H-How? I mean. I know how. But how? Surely Ralak knows not to do such a thing during your heat. He can control himself. R-Right?”

“Right. If I were the only one… in heat.” You say the last few words under your breath, fixing your shawl before picking back up your task.

“What do you mean?” Tsireya leans in with a tilted head, looking a little closer at your covered shoulder. “Did you help him with his rut?” Tsireya asks bluntly. “He’s been unmated for six years, y/n. Did you reall—”

“I am his mate. Of course I did.” You nearly snap, baffled by the tone she’s having with you.

“H-How did that even work?” Tsireya shakes her head, slowly raising her hand towards you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally lift your head to shoot her a puzzled, yet offended stare. “It worked like it would for any other Na’vi.”

“Y/n…” Tsireya quickly grabs your shawl, pulling it off your shoulder to reveal a large, deep and scabbed up bite mark. It looks almost infected because of the strange omaticayan herbal concoction smeared over it. “You should have just let him ease you into it. Look at you, you’re all bruised and—”

“Tsireya.” You interject, “thank you for the concern, but—” you aggressively pull up your shawl, “I feel just fine. Besides, being in heat was the best way to ‘ease me into it’…He was as gentle as he could be.” You mutter, twiddling with the twine as you think back to the way he tried to handle you with care.

“By the looks of it, he was anything but gentle with you.” Tsireya seethes, angry that the man she grew up looking at like a brother would do something like this to you.

You wince at her words. They’re like a knife to the heart.

A long, awkward silence fills the space between you and Tsireya. She reflects on everything she’s said, realising that perhaps she was a little more harsh than needed. She softens her gaze, “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“I get it. I know you’re just looking out for me. It’s alright, ‘reya.”

You exchange lighthearted smiles.

“You are definitely pregnant then. After six years, he must have really filled you—”

“Tsireya!” You laugh, giving her shoulder a light shove.

Tsireya’s grin morphs into a more serious expression. “See mother to make sure. Okay?”

Your smile also fades into something softer as you nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”

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mrsriddlenott · 3 months

Text

Best Friend!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Angsty but a Happy Ending, kinda college AU but not important, some Fluff, no real warnings besides language.

Kinda trying a newish style so lmk if it’s better or worse or if you don’t mind either way.

Summary: When your best friend Theo sleeps with your childhood bully in a moment of weakness, wanting you.

Theo Nott had never had a shortage of girls at his disposal. He could have fun whenever he wanted. With whoever he wanted. So why wasn’t he having fun without her here. She was mad at him, he knew that, but he never would have thought she’d missed his celebration party. He had basically just won the team their whole match for fucks sake. So where the hell was she?

Okay, maybe he had crossed a line last night but she would have said something if she was mad enough to skip his party….right? It wasn’t like he hadn’t been with girls around her before. He didn’t realize his feet were carrying him to her dorm room until he was already banging on the cracking wood and breathing heavily as he spoke, “Come on y/n/n you gotta come out and celebrate with me.”

The door creaked open only a slit, a smile quickly painting his face as her gorgeous eyes he feared he’d never see again peaked around it, “Hey you,” He said through his smile, “Are you gonna come out to the party?” His face fell as he attempted to enter the room, only for the door to be held firm making him chuckle nervously, eyeing what he could see of her.

“Um I’m actually a bit tired and I think-“ The sound of a distinctly familiar chuckle had his eyebrows shooting up his face, only now was he realizing the scent of overly expensive cologne….and arrogance. Her eyes shut tightly as she huffed out in annoyance, allowing Theo to shove into her dorm room to see Draco Malfoy perched shirtless on her bed as though he was the king of the world. For some reason he couldn’t stomach the sight of it, him, his teammate, his friend, on the bed he spent most of his weekends on, his safe space for him and his favorite girl.

“We were a little busy Theo so if you don’t mind.” Draco propped himself up as he spoke, using her favorite stuffed animal, which he himself had won her a few summers ago and he snapped. “Get the fuck out.” He didn’t understand why he took it so personally, Draco probably didn’t even know the little cat was y/n’s favorite which made it all the more infuriating, “Get your fucking shirt and get out or I will throw you out Malfoy, and we both already know who will win that fight.”

Draco laughed as he yanked his shirt off the floor before shooting a wink in y/n’s direction and slipping out the door still half naked while Theo slammed it behind him. “What the fuck were you thinking, Draco fucking Malfoy, seriously?!” Her face was shocked but angry, so angry his breath picked up and his heart raced as he tried to calm down and speak softly. For a long moment the room was nearly silent, she was waiting for him to speak but he couldn’t.

She scoffed at him before starting up, “Oh so you can get with whoever you want but I can’t, is that how this works now?” Her eyes were watering, he could see them glistening but she didn’t let the tears fall and he couldn’t hold his own back if she hadn’t as well. “It’s Draco y/n. He’s just using you.”

“Okay? And maybe I’m using him too, maybe I just wanted him to fuck my brains out like he promised,” The thought had bile rising up his throat as anger began to overtake him, “Maybe I just wanted to forget the image of you fucking Pansy Parkinson at a party you threw for me!”

She huffed at him as her eyes rolled, he couldn’t form words, he didn’t know what to say, it’s not like the truth would be any good. He had fucked Pansy and of course he knew somewhere deep down she would be mad but he couldn’t admit he was only with Pansy that night because he wanted y/n. It was a pitiful excuse and made no sense even to him, he was looking for her, he wanted her and he was finally going to tell her. But there she was. Dancing and laughing and having fun without him. He needed her, in every meaning of the word, his world would crash and burn without y/n but hers would go on spinning, clearly. It could have been any girl really but Pansy was there and he didn’t think.

The look on y/n’s face when she walked in on them hurt him more than anything he could imagine. She had come looking for him. To spend the rest of the party with him he guessed, and he hated himself for ruining it. “Are you gonna say anything?! You fucked the girl who made my life hell for years at Hogwarts Theo, did you even think about how that would make me feel? How that would make this friendship look?” She hadn’t called him anything but Teddy in years and somehow it was that which broke him. He was crying now, stumbling over failed sentences as he tried to explain.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you’re right I didn’t think. I was looking for you and I- I fuck you were right there and I should have come up to you anyway but you were so happy and you didn’t need me.” His words spewed out uncontrollably, he didn’t know he could feel half the things he felt for her and he couldn’t explain most but he would keep going until she kicked him out, “You never needed me, you’re so perfect and independent and I rely on you so much, I can barely get out of bed without you waking me up.” He watched her face as she watched his, she was hurt and confused but listening nonetheless so he continued.

“I don’t know when to stop okay, and that’s not an excuse it’s not I just needed someone….I needed you and I wanted you and I couldn’t have you, and when I went to leave she was there and she wanted me and I’m such an idiot I know that. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t even think of how she bullied you all those years ago and I’m such a bad friend, you deserve better you really do.” He fell to his knees as her tears dripped down her cheeks to the floor, he couldn’t stop his own sobs as he cradled his face in his hands, “I can’t lose you.” He mumbled through his tears as he heard her feet shuffle around.

He jolted, eyes finding hers much closer than expected as her warm hand cradled his shoulder, “I don’t want to forgive you, but I love you and I need you more than you know, the only reason I’m so calm without you is because I have to balance out your insanity.” You chuckled through tears, “I can’t be mad at you for sleeping with her, you’re both adults and we were all children when we started at Hogwarts and it’s been long enough that we can leave that in it’s corridors. It….it just hurt because….I” She sighed before she continued, “I was jealous, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t really mad because you fucked Pansy, I’d be mad if I walked in on you with anyone….because they aren’t me Teddy.”

His heart broke as he heard her, he wanted to be with her since he was a child, he loved her in more ways he thought possible and every time he thought it was done growing he found a way to love her more. And now he knew she felt the same.

~~~~

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thedensworld · 8 days

Text

Revelation | C.Sc

Pairing: Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, office romance

Summary: What started as an office romance escalated quickly when there are news about Choi Seungcheol, your boyfriend, is suddenly the heirs of the company where you both work.

You grumbled as you opened your eyes, feeling the chill on the other side of the bed where Seungcheol had been sleeping. Unconsciously, your lips formed a pout, not quite pleased with Seungcheol's disciplined approach to work, which often meant leaving you alone in the mornings. But you knew he was just steps away, getting ready in the bathroom. Despite the fever weighing you down, you summoned the willpower to rise and prepare for the day. However, your feverish body rebelled, refusing to cooperate as you attempted to prop yourself up. It was the same cold that had brought Seungcheol to your side last night, yet now it seemed to mock your efforts to start the day.

"Getting better, love?" Seungcheol's voice drifted from the bathroom as he emerged, shirtless, a towel loosely draped around his lower body. You managed a nod in response, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt for his concern.

As he drew closer, his hand instinctively reached out to touch your forehead. His expression soured at the lingering heat. "You're still burning," he remarked with a furrowed brow.

"Let's call you in sick for today."

You shifted your body fully to watch him, a smile spreading across your face as you admired his effortless grace in dressing. "Maybe it's because my boyfriend is so hot that I'm burning," you mumbled playfully, the words audible to Seungcheol as he adjusted his pants.

Seungcheol chuckled, turning to you with a raised eyebrow. "Really? Am I that hot?" he asked, a hint of playful vanity in his tone as he pulled back the duvet covering your body, his ego clearly enjoying the compliment.

"Really hot, to the point where I can't help but work to protect you from other women," you teased, preparing to rise from the bed. But Seungcheol was quicker, gently pushing you back under the covers with a soft yet firm touch, his concern evident in the way he hovered over you.

"I'll order you some food for breakfast. Let's have you rest for today, love," Seungcheol suggested, his voice soft with concern as he hovered near the bed.

You raised your brow, a flicker of worry crossing your features. "Didn't you say you had to pay for rent? Don't use that money for me," you reminded him, your concern for his finances clear in your tone.

Seungcheol met your gaze with a warm smile, brushing off your concern. "Yes, but it's okay," he reassured you, his eyes reflecting his affection for you.

Shaking your head slightly, you insisted, "You know I can pay for myself, right?"

Seungcheol nodded in understanding, his expression gentle. "You've told me that thousands of times already," he reminded you with a soft chuckle.

"Baby, if you need anything, you have me, alright?" you affirmed, reaching out to him with reassurance. He responded by pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his actions speaking volumes as he nodded in agreement.

Seungcheol headed off to work after ensuring you had a healthy breakfast on the way. He reassured you that he'd already taken care of the payment, urging you to simply enjoy the meal and remember to take your medicine afterward. As you sat at the dining table, a pang of guilt settled in your stomach. You couldn't shake the knowledge that Seungcheol was facing financial challenges of his own, yet he never hesitated to take care of you. The thought weighed heavily on your mind as you contemplated his selflessness, a mix of gratitude and concern swirling within you.

Reflecting on the journey you and Seungcheol had taken together, you couldn't help but marvel at his unwavering determination and work ethic. You both started as interns at the company, navigating the challenges of entry-level positions while trying to make ends meet. But while you struggled to find your footing, Seungcheol dove headfirst into every task, his relentless drive and dedication setting him apart.

You watched with admiration as he worked tirelessly, often taking on extra shifts and projects to support himself financially. Despite the long hours and occasional setbacks, his perseverance never wavered. And it was this unwavering commitment to his goals that slowly but surely began to capture your heart.

As you got to know him better, you realized that behind his stoic exterior was a heart of gold. Beneath the surface of his determined facade, Seungcheol was kind, compassionate, and fiercely loyal to those he cared about. It was these qualities, coupled with his unyielding work ethic, that drew you to him like a magnet.

And now, as you sat at the dining table, contemplating the sacrifices he made for you without a second thought, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with love and admiration for the man who had stolen your heart. Despite the challenges you both faced, Seungcheol's unwavering support and dedication had never faltered, and for that, you were endlessly grateful.

"I must have gone to war in my previous life, right?" you mused aloud, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you opened the meal and began to savor it.

***

As you stepped into the elevator, the buzz of morning gossip greeted you, swirling around the confined space like a whirlwind of speculation and excitement. Your colleagues chattered animatedly, their voices rising and falling as they eagerly exchanged the latest news. You stood at the back, content to listen rather than participate, silently absorbing the juicy tidbits being shared.

One particular piece of gossip caught your attention, causing you to perk up with interest. The grandson of the President Company was set to become their director. The news rippled through the elevator, eliciting a mixture of surprise and curiosity from your coworkers.

You had never been particularly interested in the inner workings of the company's hierarchy or its familial ties, but you couldn't deny the significance of this development. The President Company, a prominent entity within the Choi Corps conglomerate, held considerable influence over the various companies under its umbrella, including the advertising agency where you worked.

The mention of Mrs. Park potentially being replaced by this new director sent a ripple of anticipation through the elevator. Mrs. Park, the current director of Choi Ads, was notorious for her strict demeanor and cutthroat management style. The prospect of her departure was met with a mix of relief and excitement, evident in the hushed whispers and knowing glances exchanged between your coworkers.

Should everyone throw a party then?

"You can't believe what happened yesterday!" Soonyoung exclaimed as he approached your table, his excitement palpable.

"I heard it in the elevator," you replied calmly, shooting him a look that silently urged him to lower his voice.

Soonyoung cleared his throat and glanced around before continuing, his voice now subdued. "Everyone was taken aback but relieved at the same time that Mrs. Park and Mr. Yang won't be here anymore."

Your brow furrowed at the unexpected news. Mrs. Park and Mr. Yang, both gone? It seemed the changes within the company ran deeper than you initially realized.

"Mr. Yang too?" you asked, seeking confirmation from Soonyoung, who nodded in response.

"Everyone is finally getting into their proper positions! Mrs. Kim definitely deserves the general manager position. And you, Ms. Assistant Manager, should be a team manager," Soonyoung continued, his enthusiasm undiminished as he recounted the events of the previous day.

Despite Soonyoung's animated explanation, your mind struggled to process the flurry of changes that had occurred in just one day. Replacements, promotions, announcements—what had you missed during your brief absence?

"I'm glad that I treated Seungcheol with all my heart, or should I start calling him Mr. Choi?" Soonyoung mused aloud.

You threw a glance to him, "what do you mean? Seungcheol? Mr. Choi? I'm not following, Soonyoung," you admitted, furrowing your brow in confusion.

Soonyoung's eyes widened in disbelief. "Girl! Assistant Manager Choi is the President's grandson. He was here to announce it. The formal announcement will be held next week, and I'm in charge of the event."

Your jaw dropped in shock, and you instinctively reached out to grasp Soonyoung's arm for support. "What?!" you exclaimed, barely able to contain your surprise. "You're kidding, right?" Your eyes widened, and your breath caught in your throat.

Soonyoung rolled his eyes, a wry smile playing at his lips. "Oh, babe, I wish. But I'm happy for him. I thought he was just some hardworking dude at work. Turns out he's the heir to this company," he explained, his tone a mix of astonishment and admiration.

As Soonyoung's words sank in, your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. How could you have been dating Seungcheol for four years without knowing such a significant detail about his family background? The realization left you feeling stunned and incredulous, as if a veil had been lifted to reveal an entirely different side to the man you thought you knew so well.

Images of Seungcheol flashed through your mind—his warm smile, his unwavering support, his tireless dedication to his work. You had always admired his resilience and determination, but now, knowing that he was the grandson of the company president, it added a new layer of complexity to your relationship.

Questions flooded your mind, each one more pressing than the last. Why hadn't Seungcheol ever mentioned his family's connection to the company before? Did he deliberately keep it a secret, or was it simply an oversight on his part? And most importantly, what did this newfound revelation mean for your future together?

As you grappled with the shock of this unexpected discovery, a sense of uncertainty crept in, mingling with the lingering warmth of affection you felt for Seungcheol. Despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you, one thing was certain—you needed to have a conversation with him, to clear the air and uncover the truth behind his hidden identity as the grandson of the company president.

As you made your way through the office, your mind still reeling from the bombshell revelation about Seungcheol's true identity, you were taken aback when you almost collided with a familiar figure—Seungcheol himself. The shock of seeing him, coupled with the knowledge of his impending promotion to director, left you momentarily speechless.

The surprise etched on your face didn't go unnoticed by Seungcheol, who seemed poised to offer an explanation. But before he could utter a word, he was intercepted by a member of the company's secretarial staff, beckoning him away with an urgent summons.

For a moment, you stood frozen in place, torn between the impulse to confront Seungcheol and demand answers, and the realization that now was not the time nor the place for such a conversation. With a heavy heart, you watched silently as he walked away, the weight of the unspoken truth hanging heavily in the air between you.

As he disappeared from view, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you—confusion, disbelief, and a gnawing sense of betrayal mingling with the remnants of affection and longing. You couldn't shake the feeling that everything had changed in an instant, and yet, in many ways, nothing had changed at all. With a sigh, you pocketed your phone, the call to Seungcheol forgotten for now as you grappled with the complexities of your newfound reality.

***

As interns at the company, you and Seungcheol had embarked on your professional journey together. You were the only one accepted after a rigorous testing and trial period, while Seungcheol's presence in the internship program had come as a surprise to you. However, at the time, you were too focused on the competitive nature of the training system, which dictated that only one intern would be chosen every six months. It hadn't occurred to you to question Seungcheol's sudden appearance.

Seungcheol's reputation as a hardworking man preceded him, and it was evident in the way he threw himself into every task with determination and grit. While you didn't doubt your own work ethic, you couldn't help but acknowledge that you often relied on your natural talent to excel. Gifted in design, management, administration—there seemed to be no limit to your abilities, while Seungcheol had to work tirelessly to match your level of competence.

Despite your differences, the company saw fit to keep both of you on board. You found yourself assigned to the design team, while Seungcheol carved out a niche for himself in PR. Despite being the youngest members of your respective teams, you and Seungcheol soon found yourselves spending nearly every night in the office together, preparing for presentations, brainstorming ideas, and tackling whatever tasks the higher-ups threw your way.

In that year of late nights and shared struggles, you and Seungcheol had seen each other at your worst—unbathed, hair unkempt, with ketchup stains from French fries or coffee splattered across your shirts. But through it all, you found solace in the fact that you only had each other in this relentless corporate world.

A significant project had brought you together once more—a short film project to advertise a makeup product. As the clock struck 10 p.m. and the office remained deserted save for the two of you, Seungcheol was deeply engrossed in mind mapping ideas for the presentation in two days, while you found yourself daydreaming about your warm bed.

Seungcheol's voice cut through the quiet of the office as he watched you begin to tidy up your table. "You're going home?" he asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

You nodded, exhaustion creeping into your voice. "I need my seven hours of sleep to come up with a better idea," you explained, already feeling the pull of fatigue tugging at your eyelids.

But Seungcheol wasn't ready to give up just yet. "You haven't contributed anything, Y/n. Let's work a little longer until we find the perfect premise," he pleaded, his determination evident in the furrow of his brow.

A pang of guilt gnawed at you as you drew closer to him, trying to catch a glimpse of the ideas he had jotted down on his iPad. With a scoff, you remarked, "Is that all you can come up with?"

Seungcheol's glare pierced through you, his frustration palpable. "So you have a better idea? Go ahead, miss," he retorted, handing you the iPad with a challenge in his eyes.

You settled yourself into Seungcheol's armchair, dangerously close to him, as you pulled the iPad towards you, eager to share your ideas. As you wrote down keywords like "Lips Product," "Lips stain", "Backstreet," "Office romance," and "steamy," you glanced up at Seungcheol, seeking his reaction.

"What do you think about office romance?" you asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

Seungcheol slowly shrugged, his gaze meeting yours. "Never experienced it before," he admitted, his tone neutral.

You sighed softly, mumbling to yourself, "Me either."

"Many people find office romance exciting and adrenaline-fueled. But why?" you continued, your words growing more animated as you delved into your idea. "Because they're often secret relationships, hidden behind work contracts and professional facades."

Seungcheol listened intently as you explained, his expression thoughtful. "And what's the closest thing a couple can do in the office?" you posed the question, your eyes alight with excitement. "Kiss. Yes. A kiss leaves a stain—a lingering mark of passion and desire."

As you continued to speak, Seungcheol found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on your words. His gaze lingered on your lips, drawn irresistibly to their sensual movements as they formed each syllable. The proximity between you felt electrifying, your perfume mingling with the scent of his cologne, creating a heady atmosphere of intimacy.

Despite his best efforts to focus on the conversation, Seungcheol's heart raced faster than usual, his senses overwhelmed by the closeness between you. He tried to shake off the sensation, willing himself to concentrate on your words, but the allure of your presence proved too strong to resist.

Suddenly, you stopped speaking, and Seungcheol realized with a start that your faces were only inches apart. Your whispered question sent a shiver down his spine, and he met your gaze with a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

"Seungcheol..." you breathed, the sound barely audible in the quiet of the office.

His brows raised in response, but his eyes remained locked on yours, unable to tear himself away from the magnetic pull of your gaze. "Hm?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you still want me to be here?" you asked softly, your words hanging in the air between you.

Seungcheol bit his lip nervously, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again. "Do you want to be with me here?" he countered, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"I guess," you replied, your own voice barely audible as you closed the gap between you and Seungcheol, surrendering to the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you.

***

Seungcheol cautiously slipped into your studio apartment, his heart racing as he finally had the chance to face you after the whirlwind of work and avoidance. He knew he had to explain everything, but deadlines and commitments seemed to conspire against him. Now, on the eve of the announcement event, he couldn't delay any longer.

You weren't home when he arrived, so he took the opportunity to prepare a simple dinner, hoping to ease the tension that hung heavy in the air. As you walked in, the aroma of food greeted you, mingling with the unexpected presence of Seungcheol.

"Go change, I'll wait for you here," he uttered awkwardly, his hands fidgeting as he busied himself setting the table.

Minutes crawled by like reluctant snails as Seungcheol anxiously waited for your return. When you finally emerged, he straightened up, trying to compose himself as he watched you take your seat and begin to eat.

"Thanks for the meal," you said, your tone tinged with a hint of detachment that didn't escape his notice.

Seungcheol felt a pang of guilt gnaw at him as he realized the extent of the hurt he had caused you. He longed to reach out, to bridge the growing chasm between you, but the weight of his own mistakes anchored him to his seat. All he could do was watch, silently hoping for a chance at redemption.

"I can't do this," you uttered, setting down your utensils with a heavy clink, your hands reaching up to rub at your face in frustration.

Seungcheol's heart plummeted at your words, a cold dread creeping over him. Was this it? Were you about to end things between you? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"Can you— please don't show your face when I'm around," you pleaded, your head bowed, unable to meet his gaze.

Seungcheol felt like he'd been punched in the gut, the weight of your request crushing him with guilt and regret. He had hoped for a chance to explain, to make things right between you, but now it seemed like an impossible feat.

He sighed heavily, the weight of his mistakes bearing down on him like a leaden cloak. He knew he had let you down, had failed to prioritize your feelings over his own ambitions. The truth he had meant to share with you, about the sudden change in his circumstances and the responsibilities thrust upon him, now seemed like a feeble excuse in the face of your pain.

As he looked at you, your expression filled with hurt and disappointment, Seungcheol realized the depth of his folly. He had let his own ambitions blind him to the needs of the person he cared about most, and now he was paying the price. All he could do was nod silently, a silent acknowledgment of the chasm that now separated them, knowing that he had brought this upon himself.

"Are you—" Seungcheol began, his voice tentative, his heart pounding in his chest as he braced himself for your response. Was this the moment when everything would unravel between you?

Before he could finish his question, you let out a piercing scream, the suddenness of it jolting him to his core. Confusion etched across his features as he watched you dramatically cover your ears and sink to the floor.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice as he reached out to you, but you shook your head vehemently, your actions and words shrouded in incomprehensibility.

"No, don't talk to me!" you exclaimed, your voice muffled as you buried your face in your arms, your distress palpable.

Seungcheol knelt down in front of you, his brow furrowed with worry as he tried to make sense of your outburst. You muttered something indistinctly, your words lost in the folds of your arms. He leaned in closer, urging you to speak louder, desperate to understand.

"Don't talk to me, it's so embarrassing! I'm embarrassed!" you finally managed to articulate, your cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment.

Seungcheol's shock morphed into a mixture of surprise and amusement as he processed your words. He couldn't believe you were feeling embarrassed when, in reality, he was the one who should be hanging his head in shame.

"I feel so stupid right now. How could you—" you started, your voice trailing off as you hid your face once again, leaving Seungcheol hanging on your unfinished sentence.

A soft chuckle escaped Seungcheol's lips as he watched your adorable display of shyness. He couldn't help but find your reaction endearing, a welcome relief from the tension that had gripped the room moments ago.

"Hey, it's okay. What do you want to say, love?" he reassured you, pulling you gently into his embrace, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of your pout.

You met his gaze with a mixture of bashfulness and sincerity, your words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm feeling stupid right now because I've been treating you like shit when you technically own the company where I work!"

Seungcheol's laughter bubbled up from deep within him, the absurdity of the situation washing away the remnants of tension between you. He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes twinkling with fondness as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"You have nothing to feel stupid about, darling," he whispered, his voice warm with reassurance.

"And no, you're not. You never treat me like shit," he insisted, his smile softening the edges of his words.

But you shook your head, your embarrassment still lingering like a stubborn shadow. "You don't understand! I've been insisting on paying the bills every time we go on dates. I even casually offered to pay your rent. Oh my god!"

Seungcheol's laughter grew louder at the revelation, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "That's what you were worried about?" he exclaimed incredulously.

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of your embarrassment pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. "This whole week, I've been thinking about how many times I've hurt you by paying for your groceries and dinner. Your masculinity isn't hurt, right?"

Seungcheol's hands were gentle as they cupped your cheeks, his touch a comforting reassurance amidst your swirling emotions. "Thanks for everything, my love. Now your boyfriend will be the owner of the company you're working for. Let him treat you like a princess," he said tenderly, his voice laced with sincerity and affection.

You melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his love enveloping you like a protective cocoon. "I love the sound of it," you whispered, your heart swelling with gratitude for his understanding and support.

Seungcheol held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Let's finish your dinner, and I'll get you your favorite dessert from that expensive bakery you showed me last time," he suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement at the thought of spoiling you.

You smiled up at him, feeling a rush of love and contentment wash over you. With Seungcheol by your side, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always have each other to lean on. And in that moment, surrounded by his love, everything felt right in the world.

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lovedazai · 11 days

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CRUEL BEYOND MY YEARS . . . you do the impossibleーyou make dazai feel. that’s why you’re his, you just don’t know it yet.

ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, chuuya is there too, so are oda and ango, jealousy & possessive behavior, some descriptions of depression & violence, 2.4k w.c.

EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING SERIES MASTERLIST

dazai knows he’s supposed to be in a meeting right now.

he yawns, hands behind his head in a makeshift pillow, overgrown legs hanging off the arm of the couch as he stretches out. the heels of his shoes graze his jacket, haphazardly tossed aside when he first came into his office and laid down.

even with the sleep mask covering his face, blocking out the sun that pools into the top floors of port mafia’s headquarters, he knows it’s you who’s approaching his door.

he fights back a smile, something he rarely has the opportunity to do. he keeps his breathing steady and deep as he hears the familiar rhythm of your knuckles against his office door, knocking in a code. you both came up with it when you were younger, freshly sixteen against the hallow walls of his shipping container; your own shared secret. he hears the gentle creak of the old wood as you peek inside.

“dazai?” he hears the soft sound of your footsteps as you come closer, then a sigh he’d recognize anywhere. “dazai. take that thing off. it’s creepy.”

he remains still. he’s supposed to be asleep, after all.

“i see mr. executive is as busy as always,” you say sarcastically, but he can still hear the smile in your voice. you slip your thumb under the soft cotton padding of the sleep mask and slide it up his face, pushing his bangs back. the soft glide of your skin against his forehead leaves tingles in its wake, and it’s easy enough to ignore the burn of his one visible eye adjusting to the bright afternoon light when you’re hovering over him like an angel. “don’t you want to say goodbye to me?”

a new mission. he sighs exhaustedly, as if was the one who was assigned. “how long will you be gone this time?”

“not long, probably,” your hip presses against his as you sit on the edge of the couch. you rest your cheek on your hand, arm bridged over his stomach as your elbow props on the backrest. “chuuya got assigned to it with me. him and i make a good team.”

“you shouldn’t hang around him so much,” he tilts his head back. “you should be careful. he eats dog food, you know. he really is a dog, isn’t he?”

“shut up,” you laugh, and the sound makes his heartbeat quicken without his permission. “i know that isn’t true.”

“it is!” he sits up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes, his own shimmering with mirth. “i even saw him do it. you trust me, don’t you?”

you flick his forehead, giggling as you stand back up and straighten your skirt. “you’re just jealous you don’t get to come on this mission with us.”

with us? dazai swears he could be sick and die right there on the couch, as if there even was a ‘you and chuuya’. the thought alone makes him nearly double over in pain. if anything, it should be him you were paired up with, and if you asked for his opinion, it was a joke that you weren’t by defaultー even if little assignments like this were below him now that he’s an executive. no one else knew you as well as he did, and no one else ever would; besides, he’d known you longer than that stupid slug. mori’s negligence on the matter makes his stomach churn and his skin prickle uncomfortably.

“hey,” he grabs onto your jacket sleeve, where the cuffs are still a little too long and the fabric hangs over your wrists, before you can walk away. “be careful.”

you smile at him brightly, giving him a thumbs up, but it barely fazes him. he watches you leave, gaze dark and mouth firm. something bitter starts to crawl up his stomach, growing in his chest like thorned vines intertwining and tightening around his ribs.

when mori first introduced you and dazai to one another, you were both fourteen years old. the first thing he noticed when he saw you was that your clothing was too big, hanging awkwardly off your body. you’ve both grown since then, nearly identical black jackets and ties over white button-downs adorning your frames. the second thing he noticed was that you were different from him; he could tell from your eyes, bright and glistening.

he can’t remember a time when he wasn’t burdened by the feeling of looking through a window, always a spectator. you were different; you had a seat at the table. every bomb placed, every trigger pulledー you were there with him through it all, with the same fucked up feeling of adrenaline pounding through your veins, except you were attached to the world around you. you saw meaning in it somehow.

he wants to pick you apart piece by piece and study you under a microscope. he wants to understand just what it is about you that makes you so intriguing. what do you know that he doesn’t?

how are you making him feel this way?

he thinks about you on your mission, even when he tries not to. he flips through his paperwork lazily, pulling sheets from their stapled packets and folding them into origami shapes. he stares at his finger when he gets a paper cut on the edge of a report about some dispute in kyoto, watching the blood dribble down his skin in small beads. he raids the infirmary for chemicals, slipping past the nurses and picking the lock to the medicine cabinet, pocketing bottles and extra rolls of bandages. he plays on his handheld console, sighing in frustration when his character dies again; if only it was so easy.

it’s nearing the latest hours of the night when he decides to sneak into your office that he finds you again, back from your mission and chatting with chuuya, who’s arms are crossed as he leans against the edge of your desk. dazai skims his eyes over you, noting with satisfaction that there seem to be no new visible injuries on you. he relishes in how chuuya’s brows furrow when he sees him, and how yours rise in delight, cheeks rounding in a smile. he throws his arms around your shoulders, your faces close enough for him to count your eyelashes as you tilt your head back to look at him.

“i hope you didn’t have too much fun without me,” he pouts, squeezing you against his chest. “did you keep chuuya on his leash during your mission?”

“don’t talk about me like i’m not here, idiot.”

“oh, there you are,” he eyes the aforementioned man lazily, as if he were a bug that landed near him. “i almost missed you because you’re so small.”

“i fell asleep right after we were done,” you giggle. “chuuya had to carry me back.”

“oh?” he tightens his arms. dazai always thought you were the cutest post-mission, all sleepy and touchy; he always made sure he was around for those moments. “did he?”

you’re talking, something else about the mission, but he doesn’t listen. chuuya looks from you to him when he feels his gaze, eyebrow raising in a silent question. they screw up in irritation when dazai’s eyes narrow as his lips curl up into a cruel grin. he cranes his neck down, nose grazing your temple before he drags his tongue across your cheek.

“ew, dazai!” you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t go far, still clinging to you tightly. “what the hell? you’re so gross!”

he laughs in your ear, even as you try to pry his hands off his shoulders. you twist your hand around his wrist, tugging on it and glaring at him over your shoulder.

“let go, dazai.”

you’ve only ever looked at him like this when he woke you up in the middle of the night, knocking over one of your chairs after he broke into your apartment; you weren’t able to fall back asleep for hours, and when you finally woke up the next day, you realized he ate the last of the mapo tofu in your fridge.

he loosens his arms, stumbling when you shove him. the feeling of your hands pushing him away is nowhere near as warm as when you brushed his hair back earlier that day. there’s no pretty, warm smile dimpling your cheeks either; just your back retreating from your office, the sound of your door slamming shut, and chuuya’s annoyed glare prickling his skin. his chest tightens.

the flickering light of bar lupin’s sign penetrates the foggy night air, like a lighthouse calling lost ships home. ango and oda are already inside when dazai arrives. a cigarette dribbles loose curls of smoke into the air as ango cradles his glass between his palms and oda tilts his head back to sip his whiskey. the bar’s most devoted patron hops from dazai’s seat knowingly, landing on his little white paws as dazai sits down on the stool with a huff.

he rests his chin against his forearm, sighing into his elbow as the bartender places his usual in front of him wordlessly. the two older men look at the pouty pile of messy hair between them. oda knows he’s waiting for one of them to ask, so he does. “did something happen today, dazai?”

“yes,” he bounces the sphere of ice against the bottom of the glass, feeling his fingertip go numb. “she’s mad at me.”

“what did you do now?” ango eyes him wearily from behind his glasses.

“how rude,” he says flatly, his voice sounding hollow without his usual playfulness. “immediately assuming i’m at fault.”

“aren’t you always?” he sighs into the rim of his glass, taking a long sip.

they both wait in silence before dazai shoots up in his seat, his stool spinning slightly.

“how can that stupid slug touch what’s mine?”

“‘yours’?” ango asks, a thin eyebrow raised. “people don’t own other people.”

“i didn’t know you two were dating,” oda says.

“we’re not,” dazai sags back down, folding his arms and laying his head down so his eyes are level with his glass again. “that’s gross.”

“you’re not?” oda repeats. “…then why are you upset?”

he feels the bandages around his eyes loosen as he turns his head away, squishing his cheek into his elbow. the cat licks his paws across the bar, before reaching up and rubbing his little face. he catches dazai’s gaze, looking at him with big, round, unblinking eyes. his chest tightens again.

the sun is rising, melting the black of the night sky to gold when dazai arrives at your apartment. his hand freezes inside his pocket, fingers wrapped around his lock pick, glancing back to your door. he lets it go and knocks instead, beating his knuckles against the wood in your secret code.

you’re in your pajamas when you open the door, and he notes the bruise on your leg that was hidden under your work uniform. he looks at you like a lost puppy; ears down, eyes big, with his tail between his legs.

“hey,” your eyes dart along his body, and he knows you’re scanning him for injuries too. “you okay?”

he doesn’t reply, and you let him meekly slip past you into your apartment. your blanket is pooled on the floor from where you were sitting at your coffee table, chopsticks and a bowl of stir fry waiting for you; the schedule of a mafiosa has your circadian rhythm flipped, eating dinner as the sun rises.

“did you eat anything yet?” you ask him, sitting back on the ground.

his big brown eyes blink down at you emptily.

you open the side of your blanket expectantly, scooting over to make space for him. you nudge your food between the two of you when he sits beside you. his stomach flutters as he thinks about you feeding him from your chopsticks, a hand cupped under his chin, your soft thumb brushing his lips as you wipe them clean. he ignores it, plucking a shrimp out of your bowl with his fingers instead.

“you can have the rest,” you bundle the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders, sighing softly as you lay your head down on his shoulder. “i made extra. i knew you’d come over.”

“you did?”

“mhm,” you rub your thumb along the edge of his bandages where his palm and wrist meet absentmindedly. “i know you.”

you do, scarily so. you like your stir fry spicy, but you kept it mild for him. because you knew he’d come over. because you knew he wouldn’t have eaten otherwise. because he only ever gets a home cooked meal when you make one for him.

“‘m sorry.” he mumbles, voice barely audible.

you tilt your head up and look at him, eyes heavy. he holds his breath as you lift your hand and cup his cheek, tracing the dark circle under his one visible eye with the pad of your thumb.

“let’s go to bed,” your voice is soft in the way it always is when you’re tired. “we can still sleep a little before we have to go back to headquarters.”

he knows every inch of your apartment, but he still lets you guide him into the dark of your room, and he’s suddenly surrounded by everything that is so quintessentially you. he has it all committed to memory: the title of the book on your nightstand you swear you’ll finish, the delicate splay of jewelry on your dresser, the pajama shorts hanging over the side of your hamper in the corner.

you practically collapse, falling into your bed and splaying your limbs with a happy sigh while he carefully lies down, staring at the ceiling and keeping his hands to himself. it’s after a few quiet moments when he feels something warm against him, and when he turns to look at you, his breath catches in his throat.

you’re so much closer to him than anyone else would ever dare to be. you curl towards him even in your sleep, like a sunflower growing towards the sun. your arm reaches towards his, fingers loosely clinging to his sleeve, as if you wanted to keep him anchored to the bed with you. he could almost make himself believe you really wanted him there.

he watches the daylight fall over your face, just as delicate as the sheet you draped over your body, still thin enough to show off the contour of your legs. you look so relaxed, cheeks full of color with the shadow of your lashes resting against them.

you looked so alive. so human.

his chest tightens.

BSD MASTERLIST

taglist . . . @little-miss-chaoss @almond-t0fu @yaeeko @annoyingpainterprincess @callm3-tash1 @janbannan @snowsilver2000

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #dazai x you #bsd x you #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #dazai imagines #dazai fluff #bsd fluff

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wifeofasith · 3 months

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Loved inside and out ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

ׁ ֶָ֢ ⏤͟͟͞͞☕️ ׁ ࣭ warnings ! ۪ ׁ ⊹ || Dom!Anakin × Sub!Fem!Reader, cockwarming, brief pinv sex, creampie (mentioned), pet names MDNI !!

Not bothering whatever Obi-wan was so immensely discussing with Ani was practically impossible when your head was swarming with tingling thoughts about your unsuccessful day. Feeling miserable, you didn’t even try to participate in the ardent conversation the two Jedi had. Your only resolve turned out to be to linger around, trying to gain Anakin’s precious attention, which you were so desperate for.

“What’s gotten you so dull?” Your grand-master’s voice pulls you out of your head, making your eyes settle on his humble white robes. “You’re traipsing around like a youngling.”

Feeling embarrassed about the comment, you glimpse at Anakin, expecting to be defended from Obi-wan’s sharp eye, but instead you are greeted with another curious stare as his arms cross over his chest.

"Just a bad day.” You mutter, struggling to define the intense feeling of weariness you woke up with.

Not pleased enough with the description, they glance at each other concisely, as if sizing up your negativity. Anakin’s arms drop lower with a sigh.

“How about another session to put your mind off things?” He insists, making you wonder what kind of session he was talking about while hoping Obi-wan’s imagination only darts to the possibility of you dueling with Anakin instead of anything wicked.

"Go; I’ll finish on my own.” Your master’s master nods approvingly towards Anakin, reassuring you two about his oblivion to what happens in your little nests when his prying gaze is elsewhere.

Anakin’s eyes gleam briefly before he tilts his head upwards towards you, encouraging you to move alongside him.

“What’s wrong?” A soft voice reaches your ears as you two are far enough. “What bothers your pretty little head?” He speaks gently, but his eyes still stare forward, careful not to drop the cloak you two were wearing.

“It’s nothing, really…” You pause, but unable to come up with a better excuse, you shortly continue. “I’m just blue.”

—

“It’s okay. It’s okay, my angel.” Anakin coos, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear as his chest presses against your back, firm arm grabbing you closer. “I’ve got you now.”

In the safety of your own quarters and Anakin’s embrace, you felt completely tranquil, even with your panties pulled to the side and the gentle nudge of his cock brushing against your entrance. His tight grip enveloped you perfectly, filling your heart with comfort, opening an escape from the dullness of your routine.

“You’re so precious, always need my cock to soothe you.” He coos, nudging your slit with a wet tip, eager to fuck into your guts.

“Mmm…” You nod silently, not wanting to be bullied about it.

Anakin’s lips gently touch your cheek as if to reassure you that he’s there to ease your mind instead of making fun of your disheveled mental state. He props himself up on his forearm, leaning over you slightly to reach the plum of your lips as he slowly starts pushing inside your warm tunnel.

“Open up, darling, you know you need it.” He hooks his hand under your thigh, raising it just slightly. “Relax and let me in.”

Your walls flutter open, trying to accommodate him in a not-so-aroused hole. It’s irritating and uncomfortable at first, but once his stomach is nicely pressed against your lower back, your body grows limp into the sheets. Finally comforted, finally full of love.

Anakin grunts, fighting the urge to buck against you. He neatly spoons you close to himself, pressing his knees into the back of your legs while his hand gently rubs your abdomen.

“There we go, nice and sheathed in your little pussy.” He pats your hip softly before resuming his soft caress.

You close your eyes, savoring the way your walls molded around him. The feeling of him pulsing inside you like a second heartbeat made your body swell with warmth. Your brain became fuzzy, filling with images of Anakin’s veiny shaft enveloped within you.

“Feels so good, Ani. So warm.” You utter, taking a deep breath of air, of his scent, more of Anakin inside you.

He lets out a low chuckle, his hand creeps its way under your belly button, teasing the skin above your pubic hair with his fingertips.

“Do you want to come?” He asks in a breathy voice, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. “Want my angel to be happy. Want to make you squirm in pleasure. Do you want to?”

You pause for a second. It was true that your insides were quickly flooding themselves when Anakin was loving you so good, when his hands felt so gentle on your skin, his cock numbed the sadness in you so perfectly… But you didn’t actually need an orgasm; you just wanted him, his presence, his sweet, comforting body, and soft voice that always grounded you. You didn’t want to come, but...

“No...”

“Of course, sweet thing.” He coos and kisses your shoulder gently, pulling your body against his. “Let me just hold my angel, nice and tight and wrapped around me. Just like you should be.”

He continues pressing feather-like pecks across your arm, softly tugging on your robes to expose more of your skin, which he so longed to adore, while you braced yourself to finish the sentence and reveal your need.

“But I want you to.” You mutter in a shy voice, heat spreading across your cheeks, making your muscles clench.

“Want me to what, love?” He pauses his loving kisses, locking his eyes with yours in a gaze that tells you that he knows exactly what you mean.

Having no energy to argue with his teasing nature, you only sigh to express your unwillingness to entertain him. You lay still for a moment, waiting for him to comply and finally amuse your wish.

“Gotta explain it to me, pretty angel, can’t do anything unless you tell me what you want.” He tickles your neck with his hot breath once more, beating you entirely by being sneakily right.

“Ani, please…” You turn to him, your glossy eyes making his heart swell and cock twitch inside you. “…please cum in me—”

“Atta girl.” You can’t even finish your filthy sentence when he grabs your hips and retreats from your warmth. “Gonna fill that pussy up, make a little creamy mess...”

Once his hips snap back, your eyes roll, and you know that soon enough, you’ll be begging to cum.

741 notes · View notes

neo-percs · 7 months

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OVERSTIMULATION:: ( day 6 )

WARNING:: one night stand, fingering, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, unprotected sex, drinking.

SUMMARY:: in which you sit at a bar drinking when the guy next to you begins to ask you questions about yourself instantly clicking. By midnight he's escorting you to his apartment.

WORD COUNT:: 3.5K

The club was buzzing, everyone gathered under clouds of smoke and dancing as sweat gathered on their skin. The walls and floors were vibrating from the hard base booming through the gigantic speakers propped up on the DJ booth. Ignoring all of the drunk women and men stumbling to the bar asking for bottles and shots with chasers. You play with the straw jammed in between the melting ice at the bottom of your drink and occasionally sipping from it. Being left by your friends in exchange to mingle with whoever they could dig their nails into a bitter feeling swirled in the pit of your stomach.

Your eyes attached themselves to the screen of your phone as you scroll mindlessly as you feel a pair of eyes burn right through your side profile, you choose not to look in case the person happens to be some random or worse. "What kind of drink is that" the person besides you finally speaks making you look up in his direction instantly taken aback. He was fitted into a black button up the sleeves rolled to the elbow, his hair a pale shade of blonde and his sharp features make you blink thinking the alcohol was finally taking its toll.

He was looking at you, he was speaking to you and yet you hadn't uttered a single word back only glancing at the glass with a clear drink and lime wedged onto the rim of the glass. "It's a margarita, I'm not very wide range with my drinks" you shrug as you finally let the words ripple through your throat, speaking loud enough over the music for him to hear you. He nods as he waves down the bartender who was cleaning off cups with a white towel. "What can I get for you?" The man asks his eyes are round and his bright magenta hair makes you eye him more at the interesting choice in hair color.

"Can I get the same margarita as her please?" He asks only getting a firm nod and smile from the worker who's name tag had been blurred out due to the bright flashing lights. "Nice manners" you laugh, he seemed to be in your age range and for him to have manners was almost like being the tallest dwarf. "It's the bare minimum, I don't want him to spit in my drink or anything for being rude" he shrugs which makes you bite back a smile. As a minute of sheer silence between the both of you.

"Why are you here by yourself? Shouldn't you be with friends at a place like this?" He asks, although he doesn't mean for it come off in weird way and you knew that and wouldn't take it as anything less than a sheer question of curiosity. "I am here with friends, but I'm pretty sure their off wondering around trying to get laid by some random girls in the corner over there" you wave off to the back right corner where you assumed Mark and Taeyong had wondered off to without even a second glance. He hums "what about you?" You ask delivering with a curious glance at him as he takes a sip out of his drink.

"I came here with a friend to look out for him on his date but he left to get laid too" he shakes his head with a smile thinking of Jaemin stumbling out with his date on his arm and a warm smile. And as time went on you and Jeno learn each others names, ask each other about hobbies, and what you do for a living. It was almost as if you were on a first date over drinks in one of the weirdest circumstances as to why you're both alone.

But as you continue the both of you grew to have a flirty banter going, and when you finally see people are starting to leave you both not end the night. Walking around the empty streets talking your arms brush against each other, you could feel the ache in your feet as you both walk down one of the still bustling streets when Jeno pitches the idea to walk to his place as it's closer. By the time you had both reached the front doors your stumbling and giggling holding onto each other's hands in case the other falls. Pulling the door open for you, you both walk to the elevator with dopey smiles resting on your lips without even realizing you had yet to let go of his hand.

Your breathing gets heavier as you realize that you were now alone, holding hands with an attractive guy you met at a bar. "You okay?" Jeno mumbles as he looks over at you with concerned eyes "you look like your burning up" he says as his free hand reaches to cup your cheek feeling how warm your face is his eyes flickers to yours not realizing how close he had gotten and how intimate his actions were. You look up at him nodding without a single word closing the gap between you both.

As your lips collide the both of your press into each other eagerly, not breaking until you could hear the elevator door open, both of you pulling away shyly as you meet the gaze of an elderly couple. You both apologize and scurry out of the doors lighting speed. Jeno guides you to his door embarrassed at the last encounter until he opens the front door. The both of you topple inside smiling as you once again latch onto each other. The room is dark yet the feeling of each other is all you need.

The both of you shedding clothes throughout the halls until you make it into his bedroom with nothing but your underwear on. Your both messily kissing each other until your back is pressed against the bedsheets and your head rests against the pillow.

pulling your panties down and sliding them off your ankle he discards them. The view of your pussy practically shining in all its wet glory. Jeno was desperate. To touch, taste and fill you up in so many ways he couldn't even think straight.

His hands unclip your bra watching your breasts spill out of the fabric and padding. Discarding it his hands palm your chest as leans down to lick your sensitive nipples making you let out a small moan.

Nobody had ever made you feel so good just by barely touching. Until Jeno had decided to drag his face down your stomach, littering small kisses on your sweet supple skin until he stopped at the place you needed him most.

Kissing down your inner thigh sucking hickeys into your skin you shiver at the feeling of his warm tongue giving your puffy lips a small lick. Whispering a curse under his breath he licks again this time he is much more confident.

he holds your thighs when the pleasure starts seizing your limbs, as the feeling of his warm tongue licking from your hole to your clit and sucking needly. You moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head pushing him against your pussy.

Groaning against you sent vibrations all over as you let out a small giggle that broke into a moan feeling the harsh pad of his thumb rub against your clit while his tongue worked to push inside you.

The sounds you make are music to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face. "Feels so good" you moan as you roll your hips against his face.

You could feel his lips curve against your pussy sending shivers down your spine. The wet muscle repetitively enters you, eager to gather your nectar. It feels like heaven, stomach tightening with each second.

Pulling away his thumb Jeno flattens his tongue against you licking from your entrance to your clit again, kissing it he sucks harshly on the bud with no regard as you moan his name mindlessly.

"Oh fuck" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groaned, your eyes shut as you "please use your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone.

His hand moving from your plush thigh, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit he pulled away licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cool metal on his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head he looks up at you with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move opening your eyes. You look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Hm?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were blooming with a soft blush, you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his lewd words, you clench harder "yes please" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on them.

Without a single falter in his movements his fingers began to rub against the gummy part of your walls at a faster rate as the sound of your sopping pussy getting pounded by his fingers made you squeal.

"Oh my god" you cry out hoping to god he wouldn't stop the rewarding pace he had set. Your hips involuntarily buck against his fingers as his assault of pleasure on your pussy consumed you whole.

"I'm close" you whine as the sloshing sound and the sound of you and Jeno's mixed heavy breathing had been the only thing you could hear "yeah, you gonna cum all over my fingers?" He asks teasingly as his tongue licks a long stripe against your clit that had the feeling in the pit of your stomach churning in anticipation for your orgasm.

"Yes, wanna cum just for you" you whine under your breath as he pushes and pulls his fingers in and out of you faster watching you come closer and closer to the edge waiting for him to catch you. He sucks and licks your clit harshly making you let out a loud moan as you cum all over his fingers.

Not stopping his actions he presses his fingers into your thighs pulling you against his face as you try to wiggle away whimpering. The feeling of pleasure had become overwhelming his tongue and fingers making your legs shake around his head as your fingers found the roots of his platinum hair tugging harshly wishing he'd let up. "It's too much" you moan as your thighs tightly wrap around his head. His fingers moving faster earns a loud moan as your back arches off bed sheets.

You could feel another orgasm building up as you hiccup out babbles and pleas from pleasure. The sloppy sounds make your head spin. one of your hands moves to grip the hair on the back of his head and you push his face into yourself even more.

you breathily moaned his name and that made him piston his fingers in and out of you faster and curling them to hit your g-spot your jaw drops as you let out a silent scream as the knot in your stomach is finally released once again yet more intense than the first one.

"So good" he hummed as he fucks you through your high slowing down as he kisses your clit that's now sensitive making you writhed under him. "Doing so good for me" he smiles as he pulls away from you kissing your thighs as if he was rewarding you.

You let out a small huff that turned into a choked moan when his long fingers pulled out of you. With no hesitation he sucked on his fingers licking off any essence and cum you had left on his digits.

Pulling them away he leans in to kiss you letting his tongue brush over yours to taste yourself. Pulling him closer, the kiss becoming more intense and rough, your hand cupping his jaw as the other rests against his naked back you drag your nails against his skin leaving behind red rails of irritation, groaning against your lips Jeno strips out of his remaining clothes. "Do you want to keep going?" He asks sincerity dripping from his tone, you bite your lip nodding as you take this chance as a poor attempt to catch your breath.

"I do, really badly" you huff. Smiling Jeno presses his forehead against yours as his hand falls between his legs he stroked himself before pressing his tip against your clit teasingly he grinds against you moaning at the slick sounds coming from between you both. Your warmth against his shaft has him eager and twitching in his palm yet he's just addicted to the feeling of how warm and wet you feel.

pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and rubbing his tip against your entrance makes his head spin.

Pressing his hips against yours he watches as your soaked and tight walls envelope him with a choked moan "you feel so good" he says as he presses forehead against yours which makes you giggle. As he pushes into you deeper and slowly you whine your legs without a second thought push his hips into you deeper earning a gasp at your own actions "fuck" you moan at the feeling.

"Such a slut, can't even wait for me to be inside you all the way huh?" He says rhetorically as he begins to thrust into your sharply, your moans are the only thing egging him on to keep going while your hands rest against his shoulders; nails begging to drag against his skin.

Your warm puffs of breath against his face has him in a trance. You smelled of cigarettes and cherries and it was so intoxicating for Jeno who's hands greedily need your hips as he drags them against his. The sound of skin against skin in the air made Jeno's eyes roll back. "So good" you babble as your head falls back against the pillow. Your hair was scattered against the leaning space for Jeno to kiss and mark your neck with purple and red splotches.

"Yeah? I fuck you good right?" He says as he pulls your legs over his shoulders and hits a new spot that makes your jaw slack and mind go blank. "Tell me. Tell me how good I fuck you y/n" he demands making you moan even louder "you fuck me so good Jeno I swear" you whine as your nails drag against his skin leaving behind red trails in their wake.

The bed thumps against the dry wall as your moans cover the sound. The sight of Jeno over top of you with a clench jaw and your legs on his shoulders as you clench around him tighter. The sight of his hair falling over his face as sweat begins to trickle against his skin under the red and blue hues from the window.

"You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch him begin to slowly move. Jeno couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for grinding against his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.

Stopping his hips completely and pulling out you whine at the feeling of emptiness "lay on your stomach" he says his tone low and raspy making you not miss a step as you roll over onto your stomach and propping your knees into the mattress.

Arching your back gives Jeno the perfect sight of your ass. You could feel his palm caressing and needing your skin before giving it repeated harsh slaps that had you quivering. Nothing compared to the beautiful stinging feeling on your skin given by him.

"Want you inside me so bad" you mumbled as your fingers grip the sheets, you were so needy that you were dripping down your thighs and it didn't take much for Jeno to run his tongue over his lips and grab onto your hips pushing his tip against you again letting him bottom out fully.

The sharp grip he had on your hips kept you grounded as he set a steady pace that had you panting and moaning. Hearing yourself made your face heat up, dropping your head into the sheets hoping to muffle the pleasure falling from your lips.

"Don't get all shy on me now" Jeno says as his hand pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your head away from the sheets "I wanna hear you. Don't hide from me" he says breathily as his thrusts become more sharp and the sound of him pounding into you was hard not to hear.

"I can't help it. It's too good" you slur your words as you begin to bounce and grind against him to meet his hips. It felt like he was in your stomach and you didn't mind at all, your hands clutching the sheets tighter as he used his other hand to wrap around your throat.

"Aw look at you, all fucked out." He asks as his grip around your throat tightens, you couldn't even gather your words as he hits a spot that has you breathing shakily and your moans are even more louder.

"Right here? Does it feel good here?" He asks as he drags his cock against that same spot again and again "yeah, it feels so fucking good Jeno" you moan as your eyes roll back. The feeling of his sweet lips on your skin as you feel like you're in heaven.

Your thighs are practically shaking at the feeling, pleasure practically taking over your body as Jeno pounds you into his mattress without a single care in the world. Pushing your face against sheets while he becomes sloppy and rougher with every passing second you could feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach growing and waiting to be released.

"I can't take it" you moan as you shake your head "I'm gonna cum" you whimper as you feel warm tears slide down your cheeks. "I think you can baby, you wanna cum so bad right? So take what I give you" he orders sweetly in a faux tone. His thrusts are non stop and you can't help but let the pleasure envelope you.

"Oh fuck" you gasp as the feeling of release comes closer "cum on my cock. I know you can" he coos at you while pulling your hips into his harder than before tipping you over the edge as your walls clench around him sporadically earning a guttural moan ripping through Jeno's throat.

"I'm close, where do you want it?" He asks as he continues to fuck into you "inside. Please cum inside me Jeno" you whimper before you feel the pressure in your stomach let loose "I got you, you're okay" he praised as his fingers rubbed down your spine leaving goosebumps up and down your body.

A few more thrusts slow and deep have your toes curling and sending Jeno into an orgasm struck daze. "Fuck you feel so good" he groans as his hands rub against the red warm skin of your ass. Leaning of you and kissing up your spine as you both bask in your pre orgasm clarity.

Pulling out you turn over and lay on your back Jeno following suit on the other side of the bed still wracking his brain he lazily turns to look at you "please tell me you'll stay the night" he whispers and it makes your heart soar in your chest "I'll stay however long you want" you mumbled as you move closer towards him basking in his warmth.

#𖦹—( neo percs )#nct smut #mark smut #nct dream smut #haechan smut #nct 127 smut #jaemin smut #nct x reader #jeno smut #jeno x reader #jeno imagines

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