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#cumslut au
4izawas · 4 months
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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “i’m boyfriend material!” he cries indignantly, offended despite the fact that he’d never kept a relationship for more than a few months out of sheer boredom, and you pause before looking him up and down. / “…mhmm.”
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: jujutsu kaisen | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: satoru gojo/f!reader, mild sukuna/reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 6.25k.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: college au, fem reader, fuckboy satoru, protected sex ( wrap it up cumsluts ), jealousy, attempted hand-holding, brief nanami cameo, satoru gets hard attached and then is O.O when reader is like ‘nah imma dip now’, slight angst, unrequited love, previously established relationship ( just not w gojo 💀💀 ), cheating ( by reader ), bf sukuna.
𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: hmmm gojo’s not suffered enough, let’s do THIS 👹👹
— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!
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Gojo Satoru was not nervous. 
All he had to do was ask a simple girl in his Philosophy course out so he could take her home and sleep with her. He’d never asked any of the girls in his Philosophy course out, though, so he was a little hesitant. As odd as it would seem, he enjoyed this class, and he didn’t want anything awkward to happen — which was why Suguru had directed him your way. 
‘“She won’t make it weird,”’ he’d said, though how he’d known when Satoru knew every person that his best friend had ever slept with ( and you had not been one of them ) was beyond him. 
Remember, he thinks to himself, glancing over at you a few times in a way he thinks isn’t noticeable, She’s gonna fall all over you, just like all the others, as soon as you ask her out. Easy lay. 
And he wasn’t nervous. 
Class ends, and he waits for everyone to make their way out. From experience over the last semester and a half, you were one of the last people to leave, taking your time considering you didn’t have any more courses after this one ended at noon on Tuesdays until 5pm. Once only a few stragglers are left, he grabs his books and saunters over, plastering on one of his most breathtaking grins ( if he did say so himself ), then leaning against your desk. You don’t look at him, blatant disinterest emanating off of you, but he forges forward. 
“So… I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight?” he asks, preening over how quick all the past yeses came. Men and women fell all over him like water rolls over stone in riverbeds, 
“No.”
“Great, I was thinking maybe that new Italian joint—,” Satoru pauses. Blinks. Registers your words. “…What?”
“No. Is a two letter word so difficult for you to understand?” Satoru is… shocked, for lack of a better word. He’d never actually been told no before. 
“But… why?” His question is whinier than he’d intended, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. You narrow your eyes up at him. 
“I don’t have to explain myself to you — but if you must know, I  go on dates with the man I intend to be in a relationship with,” you say honestly, and Satoru fights back a snort. “I don’t date someone who’s only  good for a quick fucking session.”
“I’m boyfriend material!” he cries indignantly, offended despite the fact that he’d never kept a relationship for more than a few months out of sheer boredom, and you pause before looking him up and down. 
“…Mhmm,” is your only reply, and he pouts. You go back to finishing up, and he thinks for a moment, drumming his fingers against the surface of your desk before shrugging. 
“Interested in hooking up, then?” he asks, and you glance up at him questioningly. “We don’t have to date, we could just have sex.” Not that you’d want to keep him as ‘just a fuckbuddy’ for too long, Satoru thinks. 
You hum softly, seeming to think it over, then give a slight nod. “Sure, we can fuck,” you say with a lazy shrug, then sigh. “But no feelings. I’m not interested, especially not with someone who has a reputation like yours.”
“You say that now, but you’re gonna be beggin’ for me to be your boyfriend,” Satoru chuckles, and you roll your eyes. 
“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply, sounding amused as you cross your arms, and without missing a beat he waggles his eyebrows at you, and you raise one of your own. “What?”
“Wanna get started on this friends-with-benefits thing now? My car’s in the parking lot,” he grins, and you look completely unimpressed. 
You resume picking up your notebooks and textbook, shoving them in your backpack and steadfastly refusing to look at his goofy expression. “I’m not fucking in your dirty-ass backseat,” you reply grumpily. “I might catch something.”
“I’ll have you know my car is amazing and clean and perfect,” Satoru retorts, acting as if his feelings are hurt, and you scoff. 
“Not with you as a driver. Didn’t you hit a sorority mailbox last month?”
He’s silent for a moment. “We’re in philosophy class, you know. Most philosophers say that it’s ‘unwise to root yourself in the past’.”
You just blink at him, then roll your eyes again and slide your laptop into your bag. “That alone tells me everything I need to know.”
“Y’know, you’re really mean,” he pouts, and you have to fight off the urge to smile. Sometimes he was amusing, even though you didn’t want to admit it. 
“I know. It’s one of my best traits,” you reply, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “See you in class.”
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One week later, Gojo finally picks you up — that is, your shared Philosophy course ends and you both head to his car. You’ve both tossed your bags in the back and are sitting in the drive-through of a fast food place waiting on your coffees with you tapping away at your phone while he hands his card through the window so he can pay for the drinks you’d gotten along with his own. 
He pulls forward after getting his card back, then brightens a little as he remembered the question he’d wanted to ask before he’d forgotten after asking if you wanted a drink. 
“Do you want to type your address into my GPS so we can—“ Satoru starts, and his eyes widen when you interrupt him almost immediately. 
“Not at my place. Never at my place, Gojo,” you snap, and he nods almost dumbly. He’d not expected you to be so stern about it, nor for you to deny him heading to your apartment or house or whatever ( especially considering his hookups typically didn’t care as long as they ended up with him in their bed. In the back of his mind an alarm bell rings, but he dumbly chose to ignore it. 
“That’s — That’s fine, no problem, we can go to my place,” he replies, pushing a fake grin on his face. He watches you visibly relax back into the passenger seat, and relaxes himself before pulling up to the second window and taking your drinks. He hands you your drink then pulls away while sipping at his own Diet Coke, glancing at you every now and then as he drives back to his apartment rather than wherever you lived. 
Part of him was nervous; he never really ever brought hookups back to his apartment — hell, he’d only brought like two of his prior girlfriends there, so this was a big break from his normal meet-up for sex. Still, he’d talked so much shit to Suguru when he’d said he’d manage to fuck you, so he couldn’t back out now. 
He’d taken out the trash yesterday, right?
He pulls into the parking lot of his apartment, easing into his spot and putting the car in park before taking a breath and leaning back. You aren’t paying him any attention, still in your phone apparently texting someone from what he could see from the corner of his eye, and once you’re done you lock your phone before turning your body to face him in his seat. 
You ask quietly, “Gojo… are you sure you want to do this?” and he pauses as he starts unclipping his seatbelt. 
“Yeah, of course! Why would I, uh — Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, nodding with a smile. You raise an eyebrow. 
“You’re acting nervous.” You deadpan, and he laughs. 
“Nervous? I’m not nervous! Let’s fuck, babe,” he says brightly, opening his car door and hopping out as you shrug and unclip your own belt. 
“…Don’t call me babe, but whatever. If you’re sure,” you say lazily, then add, “By the way, three of my friends know I came home with you, and I just dropped a location pin in a group chat, so… it’d be easier if you weren’t some creepo murderer.”
Satoru laughs again, this time actually amused. “That’s great, they’ll know the location of the best dick in Japan! Second floor.”
You scoff, but follow him up the stairs, stopping only as he fishes his keys out of his pocket and works on getting them in the lock. Eventually it pops into place, and you follow him inside, toeing off your shoes and following him quietly, eyeing him as he takes his loose coat off and tosses it on the back of his couch before following his lead to the bedroom. He lets you come in before turning to close the door, and is surprised when he turns and your shirt is already on the floor and you’re working on wiggling out of your tight skirt. 
“I — oh! Like to do the work yourself, huh?” He jokes, and you scoff through a playful smile. 
“Please. If we fuck and you just lay there, the entire campus will hear about it before midnight, I promise,” You reply. Satoru just grins. 
“Who says we’ll be done by midnight?” He asks cheekily, and you laugh again. 
“Gojo Satoru, it is two in the afternoon,” you say, and he laughs and starts unbuckling his belt. 
“And?” he purrs, tossing it aside and kicking his pants away after they pool around his ankles, leaving his boxers on as you kick off your own skirt, leaving you in a mismatched bra and underwear set. He’s discovered he much prefers you this way — almost naked and ready to joke around with him — rather than the way you were cold and quiet in class. You actually seemed human here, and he was starting to understand why Suguru had said you were easy to be around; Satoru had thought he was lying just to fuck with him, but apparently you were typically this way in the bedroom and at parties after a few drinks. It was an interesting thing about you to learn in all honesty. 
He presses his front to yours, wasting no time and dipping his head down to kiss you, mashing your lips together hard and his hands snake behind your back and unclip your bra at the same time that you slip the condom you’d taken out of your bra between your teeth and hook your thumbs in the waistband of his own underwear and push them down. He steps out of them as you stumble backwards towards his bed, leading him along before falling back with him on top of you, both of you still kissing. 
You start to unwrap the condom. “You’re a good kisser,” you mumble into his mouth, reaching one hand down to shimmy out of your panties while the other tangles itself in his hair, tugging lightly. Once they’re over the edge of the bed they fall to your ankles and you just step out of them, reaching between your bodies and slipping the condom down his shaft with an experienced sort of ease that faintly amused him.
“Why the tone of surprise?” Satoru laughs, nipping at your bottom lip before starting to kiss a line down your throat, savoring the area over your pulse point as you let out soft, happy sighs.
“Mmm, kinda thought you’d have loser dick — but like, a real loser, not the sexy kind,” you reply honestly, and Satoru would have been offended if he wasn’t so fucking horny. He just laughs against your hot skin  and keeps kissing, about to kneel when you tug him back up. “Don’t need your mouth on my cunt, need your cock in me,” you grunt, and Satoru barely chokes back the whimper that threatens to escape him. 
“G-Gotta — Gotta prep you,” he argues as you reach between your bodies and grip his dick in an almost too-perfect grip. 
“Prepped myself before class, and I’m plenty soaked,” you reply, pressing his head in. He doesn’t bother trying to hide the low groan that tumbles from his lips at the thought of you fingering open the hot cunt he was so close to, then sitting in class with him only a few seats away, ready and waiting for him to fill you. “Plus I enjoy the stretch. Don’t pussy out now, Gojo.”
“Stop calling me Gojo when I’m about to be balls deep in you,” Satoru growls, and you just laugh with a defiant glint in your eye. 
“You gotta earn me saying your first name, loser boy,” you taunt, and he narrows his eyes before bottoming out in one go, watching in satisfaction as your eyes widen and your pupils blow further all at once… then the feeling hits. 
“God, you’re fucking tight,” he groans, letting his head fall. “Fuckin’ hot too.”
“Don’t tell me slippin’ it in is gonna do it for you,” you whisper, and Satoru forces himself to pull out, his eyes squeezing shut at the perfect friction in the glide of his cock slipping out of you, before thrusting back in. 
He starts a steady pumping of his hips, taking you over the edge of the bed like a beast on its bitch at a breeding bench. He can feel your nails digging into his back and scalp and it makes him make a tight fist in the sheets, soft moans falling from his mouth as he fucks into you desperately. 
“F-Fuck — Oh god, Satoru, you fucking bastard-!” you moan, holding tight as he ruts into you, and he laughs breathlessly through a moan of his own. 
“E-Earned it already?” he asks playfully, and you laugh through a moan yourself. 
“Again, thought you were a real loser. Now shut up and keep fucking me,” your words come out in a low purr as you toss one arm around his neck, amd he busies himself with doing as told, not bothered by taking a command to fuck your willing body like this. 
Soft groans of your name and his coupled with cursing and cries for God fill the room as the two of you fuck, your sweat and precum smearing across both of your bodies as you both get closer and closer to orgasm. “C’mon, just like that — gonna cum, gonna cum!” you whisper, and Satoru presses closer and keeps his pace and position the same, listening to the way your voice pitches. He’s been on the verge of cumming himself for the past fifteen minutes, but he’d be damned if he came before you the first time the two of you fucked — not when you still somehow thought he was a loser. 
“Cum for me, babe, cum for me—“ he half-begs lowly, and you huff through a moan. 
“What did I — did I say about calling me babe?” you ask, and he shakes his head. 
“Sorry, sweetheart — God, please, just fucking cum already!”
You laugh a little, a laugh that breaks apart like brittle ice at the end as your pussy starts clenching tightly around his cock and you dig your nails into his skin hard enough to leave marks. “Fuck — fuck, fuck — fuckfuckfuck, cumming-!”
Satoru’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of you clenching so tightly around him, and the sounds of your cries as you cum around have his own falling from his lips as he fills the condom wrapped around his cock and you slowly relax completely into the bed, unmoving aside from a couple stray twitches and a lazy hand against his chest to get him off of you. He falls bonelessly onto the bed next to you, tugging the condom off and tossing it into the trash can by his bed before returning to letting his legs dangle off of the side of bed with his feet flat against the floor like yours. 
He waits a moment, enjoying the silence between you both before asking, “Well?”
You make a confused noise and turn to look at him. “Well what?” you ask, amd he chuckles. 
“Am I a loser?” he asks cheekily, and you laugh brightly. 
“Oh, definitely. Big loser energy from you, Satoru,” you reply. 
“What?!” he exclaims, turning onto his side to look at you head on, and you laugh again and nod as you sit up and stretch with your arms over your head. 
“Yep. But hey — you’re a loser with good dick,” you offer, standing on slightly wobbly legs, and start to get dressed. 
“What a comfort,” he mutters, acting annoyed, and you see through it just as he knew you would. 
“It should be,” you reply, zipping up your skirt then putting on the shirt you’d thrown over your forearm. “See you later, loser. My ride’s outside.”
Satoru’s quiet for a second, unused to girls just leaving, much less having already called cars to wait for them outside while he fucks them, “…Yeah, later…” And you’re out the door in less than five minutes with nothing but a wave and a yawn.
After a moment he stands and makes his way into the kitchen, peeping out the window to see you climb into the passenger side of a car driven by someone with short pink hair. He sighs. 
The sex was good — but today did not go like he’d expected. 
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𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟏𝐏𝐌
𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 dropped a pin!
meet me at starbucks
i’m getting a coffee
then we can fuck or wtv
𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟏𝐏𝐌
why r u getting coffee at 9pm
𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌
don’t ask questions your tiny brain can’t understand the answers to
𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌 
i literally only asked why ur getting coffee so late :(
ur so mean :((
𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐒. 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — 𝟎𝟗.𝟐𝟐𝐏𝐌
and yet u still like to fuck me?? lmfao loser
Satoru throws his phone down on the passenger’s side seat, pouting with a huff and drumming his fingers against the top of the steering wheel as he slowly follows the line of traffic towards the Starbucks you’d pin dropped, and he sees you before you see him. You’re texting someone, a large coffee in hand, and you look… happy. Satoru didn’t think he’d ever actually seen you smile a real smile before, not in class when you’d ignored him for months before he’d proposed being fuckbuddies and not even during the last couple months that the two of you had been hooking up. Every now and then in between fucking each other he’d catch you gazing down at your phone with a fond look in your eyes, but he didn’t really ask about it anymore; you always dodged his questions, and it always led to you being in a foul mood and leaving him. He learned quickly to just… not say anything and let you do your own thing so he could empty his balls and you stay happy and with him. 
Stay with him? God, what was the matter with him? He sounded like a clingy high-schooler, desperate to keep their first relationship. No, he was supposed to sleep with you once, get off, then go laugh about it with Suguru — not… whatever he was doing. It had been six months, why was he still here — fuck, who was he kidding? Satoru knew exactly why he was still here: he liked you. A lot. 
He’s in too deep, and now he can’t back out. 
You open the passenger side door, disrupting him from his thoughts. “Hmm, on time as usual. Desperate, huh?” you ask, sipping at your coffee, and it takes everything in Satoru to scoff at your words and start up the car as you clip on your seatbelt, because the answer was yes. He is desperate. He wants you, wants to hold your hand and take photos with you and brag about how beautiful you are to Suguru and his other friends, and wants for the world to know that you were each other’s partner. He wants to kiss you, not in the sloppy way that left your lipstick smeared across your face as he fucked into you, but softly and slowly so you can tell with each tiny shift how much he loves you. Yeah, you’re mean to him, you make fun of him all the damn time — but god, does he fucking like it. 
It’s a slow, careful motion when he reaches a hand over to first grasp at your thigh before moving over ever so slightly to hold your hand as he drives, and a pang bounces through his chest as you immediately tug your hand away and turn away from him. 
He doesn’t try to touch you again for the rest of the car ride, and before he knows it he’s once again back at his apartment, the motions of making his way to the bedroom with you at his back all a blur. You’re on him before he can remind himself to breathe as the sight of you bare and vulnerable before him takes his breath away as it always does — but you aren’t vulnerable, are you? You’re closed off, all sharp corners and twisted smiles, but maybe — just maybe — he’s blunting them a bit. 
“O-Oh God — oh, fuck-!” Satoru whimpers softly, his thick eyelashes fluttering as he fists his hands in the sheets beneath him while you bounce on his cock, tiny gasps falling from your lips as you swallow up all of his thick length. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as drowns in the sensations of your sopping cunt taking him entirely, his fat tip slamming against your cervix with each rough drop down. 
“Fuck yes, Satoru!” You hiss sharply, clenching around him and digging your nails into his shoulders. “Y’fill me up so fuckin’ good, ‘Toru-!”
“Yes, yes — fuckfuckfuck, c’mon!” Satoru whines, bucking his hips up to meet yours as they drop down harshly. “You’re so fucking hot, sweetheart, so fuckin’ wet!”
Lewd wet noises and the slapping of bare flesh along with the crude banging of his headboard against the walk fill the bedroom, mixing with the sounds falling from your lips, as well as his. Satoru sits up, wrapping and arm around your middle as yours instinctively loop around his shoulders, your lips catching his in a searing kiss that sends a fond warmth from his mouth all the way down to his toes. 
“God, yes,” you moan into his mouth, “So fuckin’ good, Satoru — don’t stop, don’t stop-!”
“Won’t, can’t, won’t stop!” Satoru promises through a moan of his own, a deep groan following it triggered by the feeling of your tongue running along his. His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to bruise as you tear your mouth away from his in order to latch onto his neck and bite down, nipping and kissing and sucking as his head falls back in time with the feeling of the soft heat kindling in his belly start growing hotter and hotter. “F-Fuck — damn it, m’gonna cum!”
“Cum for me, Satoru,” you whine sharply, and he whimpers a little. 
“B-But you-?” he starts, his words devolving into a garbled moan as you pick up the pace. 
“I’m close too — c’mon, ‘Toru, cum with me!” You plead softly, and Satoru needs no further prodding. He clings to you tightly as he starts cumming, his own fingernails digging into your skin as his hips buck up messily into your welcoming hips with each new burst of cum. Your voice pitches in the way he knows it does during your own orgasm, and he forces the haze away just enough so that he can look at you and watch you fall apart on his lap. 
God, you’re beautiful. 
The two of you bask in the moment for about ten minutes before you finally end it, pulling away and staggering into the bathroom in the hallway to piss. Satoru sighs and tosses the condom in the trash can after tying it off, falling back against his bed with an arm thrown over his eyes. He can hear you come back into the bedroom, can hear you moving around, assumingly so you can no doubt be ready to leave again — which is why he’s surprised at the feeling of the blankets beneath him being thrown back and the mattress dipping beneath your weight. 
He stares at you in surprise as you begin making yourself comfortable, fluffing your pillow and finding the spot on the side of the bed you’d chosen before you finally catch him staring. “Go to sleep, Gojo,” you mutter, shimmying around beneath the blankets as you try to get comfortable in a technically strange bed. 
His eyes widen in half-wanting shock. “You’re staying the night?” Satoru asks hopefully, and you sigh. 
“I’m tired,” you reply simply. “Now go to sleep.”
Sayoru nods wildly, his heart pounding. You were staying the night — you were staying. With him. “Yeah… yeah! Okay. Sleep. I can do that!”
You nod tiredly. “Good,” you say, amd you click off the lamp on the nightstand next to you as Satoru does the same. An odd silence fills the room as Satoru follows your previous motions of getting ready to rest before finally getting comfortable under the blankets. 
He rolls over to rest on his side, staring at the way you lay with your back to him. “…Goodnight,” Satoru murmurs quietly, lacing his fingers through yours. It doesn’t sting as harshly as before when you move your hand away, considering you do allow him to drap his arm over your waist while pressing his chest to your back. You’re silent for a moment, but you do eventually respond as his warmth begins to seep into you.
“…Goodnight, Satoru,” you say, and he hums drowsily. 
You’re both asleep within fifteen minutes. Neither of you comment on how well the two of your bodies slot together outside of sex. 
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It’s 1am when Satoru wakes up, his vision blurry and the red numbers on his bedside clock more aggressive than he remembered. 
Blearily he pats the mattress behind himself, wondering why he’d turned away from you in his sleep, and finds nothing but cool sheets, which leads him to rolling over. He’s startled, almost certain he’ll find the bathroom light on in the hallway, but no — it’s darker than he’d like, even at twenty-three, and you’re not here. Snatching up his cellphone, a quick scan of it tells him all he needs to know. 
You left him. 
Again. 
Three days later, Satoru finds himself parked in front of the dining hall on campus, waiting for you to come out, likely followed by one or two of your friends. After waiting about ten minutes, you do just that — only you’re walking closer to an older man in a suit than he for some reason felt comfortable with, and he moves around in his seat a little to get comfortable while watching your interactions with the man with narrowed eyes. He grits his teeth for a moment when the man touches your arm in a too-casual way, then crosses his own when he sees you smile at him. The two of you stop on the sidewalk several paces from his car, then finally split off. 
“So… Who was that old guy?” he asks as you slip into the passenger seat, and you pause as you put your bag in the backseat. He doesn’t want to just foolishly believe that you’re genuinely confused, but he also doesn’t want to think ill of you without reason, so he ‘decides’ to withhold judgment for now. 
“What?” you ask, confused, and he sighs in blatant annoyance. 
“The old guy. The one you were literally just talking to,” he grouses. “The one who was getting so touchy.”
“‘Old guy’ — wait, the blond?” You ask, almost in a shocked way, and he nods. You snort; Satoru doesn’t know what’s so funny. “That was professor Kento — my History professor,” you reply, and Satoru can feel his cheeks heat up a little, but he refuses to look at you as you start laughing. 
“Oh my god! You were fucking jealous of Professor Kento?!” you giggle, and while he’s embarrassed he can’t deny that he enjoys the sound, even if it was at his own expense. What the hell was wrong with him? “That’s so fucking wild — like c’mon man, we aren’t even dating. If I wanted to fuck Professor Kento, it wouldn’t even fucking matter.” A lump settles in Satoru’s throat at your words. 
Yes, it would. 
“But… you aren’t, right?” Satoru asks carefully as he pulls the car out of park, and you sigh. 
“No, Satoru. I’m not going to fuck my History professor.” you say softly, blatantly amused, but it’s too late now — Satoru’s upset, and he can’t stop the words from coming out. 
“Because I just — I don’t want anyone else with you like me, y’know?” he asks, almost paranoid. He fails to notice the way you stiffen next to him and forges on, his heartbeat quickening as his panic picks up. “It’s just — really like you. Like a lot. And it scares me. But it doesn’t scare me enough to not want you to myself, you know? I just want you and want to be with you and—“
“Take me home.”
Satoru pauses. “W-What?” he asks, uncertain of the icy tone you’d taken on when interrupting him. 
“My address is in your GPS,” you say quietly, then repeat yourself. “Take me home.”
“But-“ Satoru whispers, but you shake your head almost violently. 
“Now. Or I’ll walk,” you threaten lowly, and that’s all it takes for him to listen. The rest of the car ride is spent in silence until he reaches your apartment. You’re out of the car before he can say your name, and he’s following you before he can even ask himself why. 
He’s right behind you as you go into your kitchen, watching in surprise as you pull out a large bottle of wine from the fridge while simultaneously throwing open a cabinet next to the refrigerator in order to pull out a wine glass. You pull the cork out, fill the glass, and empty it in one go before refilling it again.  
Tentatively, Satoru says, “Please, I just — I think I’m in love with you. Can’t we talk about this?” and you laugh borderline hysterically. 
“And say what?! What do you expect of me, Gojo?” you ask, your tone harsh enough to make him flinch, but he answers you anyway. 
“I… I want you to be my girlfriend,” he says softly, feeling smaller than he ever had before. 
You laugh again, this time less hysterically and more in disbelief. “No,” You say, and Satoru blinks in shock. 
“What? N-No?” He asks, voice shaky. 
“No!” you snap icily, turning back to your wine. You empty your glass again as Satoru begins to reflect on the situation at hand; it’s bitterly ironic, the deja vū he’s feeling. This conversation is brutally close to the first time he’d asked you out all those months ago with the sole goal in mind being getting in your pants and ditching you, whether that meant hurting you in the process or not. How poetically cruel ( and simultaneously deserved ) that he’s the one hurt in the end. 
“Can I ask why?” he finally asks, and you turn around tk face him again, your eyes wild and cold. 
“I don’t owe you an explanation,” you growl, and he lifts his hands in surrender while nodding in agreement. 
“I know that, I just—“ Satoru swallows hard. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Do something wrong? God, Gojo, yes! You asked me to be your fucking girlfriend — I literally said before we ever fucked that you couldn’t catch feelings, what is wrong with you?!
“I didn’t mean to,” he whispers, his chest filled with a stabbing pain he’d nkt ever expected to experience while in your company.
“What does that matter now?! This thing we’ve been doing is over,” you mutter, taking a long drink of your wine. Satoru’s eyes widen exponentially, and the panic begins to set in anew. 
“Over?!” he exclaims, shaking his head a little, and you scoff.
“Of course it’s over!” You snap angrily, pointing at him accusingly. “You ruined it! Feelings were never supposed to be involved!”
Satoru wilts completely. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, just as quietly as before, and you sigh audibly as you lean against the counter. 
“An apology won’t fix this,” you say bitterly. Satoru wants to argue, wants to assure you that he can be good and do better, that the two of you don’t have to stop seeing each other, but he’s instead startled when the door to the entry hall opens without warning, and he spins to glance at the doorway like whoever came in is intruding as you groan and cross your arms after putting down your wine, covering your eyes with one hand at the same time. 
“C’mon Yuuji, kick your shoes off under the coat rack,” a deep voice rumbles, and a man with pink hair strolls in like he owns the place. Satoru would be extremely alarmed if you’d seemed so yourself, but you made no move to react, apparently used to the man being in your apartment. “I’m gonna grab a beer from the kitchen and see if she’s home yet.” His eyebrows raise with ill-concealed interest when he finally lays them on Satoru. “And who are you?”
“Who are you?” Satoru parrots quietly, a sickening feeling twisting his stomach as his mind thinks up just what scenario could lead to a random man in your apartment — but was he random?
Roommates. Please, please just be roommates, Satoru finds himself begging in his kind, though no one could hear him. 
“I’m one of the two people on the lease of this apartment, and the boyfriend of the woman behind you,” the man says, narrowing his eyes; a jolt of nausea stabs through Satoru’s stomach. “I’ll ask again: who are you?”
“He’s no one, Sukuna,” you mutter, sounding annoyed. Yet another sharp pain shocks through Satoru’s chest, and he turns back to look at you in disbelief as you walk past him and wrap your arms around Sukuna’s waist, hugging him. Your voice is muffled by his chest when you say, “Welcome home, baby,” and he kisses the crown of your head and you let go, drifting over to the younger looking ( also very confused and clearly a little uncomfortable ) boy who resembles ‘Sukuna’. “C’mon Yuuji, help me set up the new console Sukuna and I got last Friday.”
The teenager follows without hesitation, the awkwardness on his face from the odd altercation fading as he starts talking to you excitedly about some boy in his Biology II class he thinks is cute, and suddenly Satoru is left alone with Sukuna. The other man is staring at him, and it's making him uncomfortable. 
“Y’slept with her?” he asks finally, and again Satoru is startled. He just slowly nods, and Sukuna shrugs and moves past him to the fridge, fishing out a beer and popping the top off before taking a large swig. “No big deal. You’re not the first she’s run around with.”
Satoru’s startled all over again. “You… don’t care?”
“Oh, I absolutely care! I’ll have you know I’m a damn jealous man — but I know I’ve got nothing to worry about,” Sukuna chuckles, looking completely unbothered as he shrugs again. “She’s my woman after all — has been since junior high.” He laughs, takes another drink, and continues while making his way over to the bottle of wine and the half empty glass she’d left on the counter. “Hell, she even officially adopted my kid brother with me when our grandfather died last year — Pretty sure she and I are set.”
Satoru feels sick, and he wants to go home. He understands now, he realizes that he never had a claim to your heart at all. God, he was an idiot. 
Sukuna hums slightly in thought, tipping his head to the side ever so slightly. “Her sleeping around every now and then makes the sex better though. Every now and then we’ll agree we wanna spice things up, and she’ll pick some poor idiot to fuck. It makes me angry, gets me all jealous and possessive, and since we both love it when I fuck her like I hate her — even if that couldn’t be farther from the truth — it’s a double win.”
“So you just — you cheat on each other just to boost your sex?” Satory asks, completely in disbelief. Sukuna just scoffs and shakes his head, knocking back the rest of his beer before chasing it with the remnants of what you had left in your wine glass before crossing his arms.
“Nah, she’s it for me — never been interested in anyone else. Besides, I know she’ll always come back to me. She’s proven that today, hasn’t she?”
That stung — but he wasn’t wrong. You had proven yourself to your boyfriend again, and Satoru looked like nothing but a fool. 
“Go home, Gojo,” Sukuna finally says, finally sounding annoyed. It seems his patience with Satoru being in his home has run as thin as possible. “She’s never going to love you, so leave. There’s nothing for you here.”
Absently Satoru wonders how Sukuna could possibly know his name when he’d never given it, until he registers that Sukuna must have known the entire time who he was because you’d told him about him, and didn’t that just make it worse? He’d been an idiot, had been so damn sure that you’d love him back. 
Fuck. Just like before, Gojo Satoru was not nervous. 
He was heartbroken instead. 
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𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
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beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months
Text
Goodbye, Fourth of July (18+)
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pairing: lee chan x fem!reader
genre: college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), hints of crack?
description: it's the fourth of july when you realize you're in love with your best friend. unfortunately though, it seems that he doesnt love you back, and this knowledge sends you spiraling. you push him away, but chan just wants to know why you're so upset
warnings: v v sad, pining, brief mention of s/a, chan is kinda dumb in this fr, reader is dramatic af tho, unprotected sex, desperation, praise kink, finger sucking, titty sucking, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl, sweet heart, good girl, cumslut once), mentions of alcohol and weed, irene is chans gf in this but shes not a villain shes mother fr
quotes from my proofreader: "my soul left my body", "no this is too personal", "i feel like im having a panic attack"
wordcount: 8.2k
Fireworks exploded across the sky the night your life was ruined. 
Down the gray, dim corridors of your campus where room after room was ablaze with idle lights, daring to imitate the stars above them. Every crevice of the left wing was filled with the noise and decorum of a college frat party, where people lived out their own lives simultaneously to yours - yours, that was shattering into millions of pieces onto Yoon Jeonghan’s kitchen floor. Every moment of teasing, of lingering touches, of adoring smiles, of secret memories and exchanged glances came hurdling onto you on the 4th of July, red solo cup long forgotten in your hand. You were in love with your best friend. 
“I’m in love with Chan,” you whispered, looking blankly across the room to see him leaned back against the couch, flashing a bright smile at Mingyu beside him. His blonde mullet - the one, that he had been so terrified to get, and only did so, when you told him he would look great - was tousled and spiky across his neck. He was wearing a red bomber jacket over a white tee, and he looked so good you thought you might cry. 
Soonyoung wouldn’t have heard your confession - was it a confession? Admittance? Defeat? - had he not been standing right beside you. He thanked God that your words were not lost to the music and to the ambiance, to lay and die in the sticky, hardwood floor. “What?!”
He was yelling over the music. You turned over to him, mouth cracked into a frown. “What?! You’re in love with Chan?! Seriously?!” He started bouncing and giggling, ignoring your hands coming to grab onto his forearms. He had predicted this exactly five months ago. 
“Shut up, Soonyoung, seriously!” You were yelling too, barely overcoming the booming voice of Kesha on the speakers. Bathed in pink light, letting your nails trail over the kitchen counter, you felt your heart becoming soft and trembling.
Your life was ruined. 
“What the fuck am I gonna do?” you cried, feeling Soonyoung spin you at your shoulders until he was right in front of you, alcohol dampening the air between you.
“What do you mean? You’re gonna confess to him. You guys are literally in love with each other” He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. As if you hadn’t been best friends since freshman year; as if you didn’t know his favorite animal cracker shape and the exact model of his everyday sneakers. 
“I can’t do that.” 
“Yes, you can.” 
“I can?” 
“COMINGGG THROUGHHHHHHHH!” Frat-house dork Seokmin pushed between you and Soonyoung with a sky-high Vernon on his trail. Vernon shimmied apologetically, eyes sunken and red. “Getting cross-faded,” he supplied helpfully. 
“As you should,” Soonyoung mumbled, slightly peeved in his tone, but Seokmin and Vernon seemed too intensely high to notice his disdain. You were too floaty to be offended by their sudden intrusion. The party, the floor, the music, the stench of sweat had become distant and you felt very alone with your heart. And Kwon Soonyoung, of course.
“You can! Right now! I’ve been telling you for months!” He shook you by your shoulders, apparently sensing your distance. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, tugging at the strapless end of your short, glittery dress. “But he’s-” you inhaled sharply. “He’s not gonna love me back, Soon.” Soonyoung cut you off with a scoff. “He’s so in love with you! He looks at you like you’re the only girl in the…” 
Soonyoung trailed off, eyes peering past you into the crowd. “Oh shit,” His eyes widened, settled on you, then flicked back up. What the fuck was he looking at? “Uh, as I was-” you moved to look, struggling against his suddenly deadly grip on your shoulders “- no, don’t look!” He moved to stop you, but it was too late. You scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes, finding yourself confused as to what he’d been crying about. That is until you saw him. Red bomber now discarded, Chan had removed himself from the couch and was currently grinding on your biochem-classmate, Irene. 
Oh. Okay. 
You felt like cold hands grabbed onto your throat from within, as it contracted and tears stung your eyes. There it went, your heart and all its pieces on the floor, and weighing you down like an anchor, was the knowledge that you’d spend the rest of your life picking them up. 
”God fucking damnit. This is awful, I’m awful,” your head was spinning, and you could barely make out how your fishnetted legs started moving, let alone how the tips of Soonyoung’s fingers brushed against your bare back to pull you back to him. You needed to get out. Out, out, out. 
You squeezed through the tight crowd, avoiding the gaze of your classmate Seungcheol, who tried to smile at you from where he stood. This had to be some sort of mistake. Some sort of illusion brought upon you by the rhythmic movements and the loose slip of alcohol. Maybe you were hormonal? You didn’t know, but you couldn’t think while some bass-boosted playlist built dams of pressure on the sides of your head.
You finally squeezed through the door, closing it behind you and locking away that cursed, wretched memory. The further you got, the fainter the image of him. By the time you were slipping out of the hallway and into the yard, you could almost convince yourself that it was a mistake. A foolish moment, that you would tuck away and keep in a locked chest. 
God, you were cold, shivering in your scrappy fabrics, as you slid down the brick wall by a flower bed, staring into the sky. It was the fourth of July, and your chest had exploded in fireworks while looking at your best friend. Every line had simultaneously been crossed and uncrossed. 
You had realized it just a few minutes ago, just standing in the kitchen, when Wonwoo from history had asked you for a lighter. It had just been a graze, but you’d still felt it, in the faraway reaches of your purse. Amongst crumbs, concealer, a couple unraveled cigarettes and wired earphones with only one working side. What was that? You’d handed Wonwoo the lighter and then dug around for it again. A little slip of paper, edges soft and worn. You pulled it up. 
It was just a drawing. A little scribbled dinosaur. God, you couldn’t even remember when he’d given it to you. But there you were smiling at it. And then looking at him. And then you knew. 
You started crying. Hot, fat tears dripped down your cheeks, and your lips were trembling, and suddenly your body was stuttering and convulsing against the wall, and you were in love with your best friend and he was obviously not in love with you. 
“Y/n?” 
You snapped your head towards the door and the person you wanted to see the least in that moment (that thought made you cry even more, because when had you ever wanted anyone but him by your side when you were upset?) was peeking his blonde haired head through the door. Chan had such a heavy frown, looking down at you from the wide opened doorway. 
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He was immediately crouching down, hand burning hot on your back, stroking the muscles. Another hand on your knee and it was all too much, so you pushed him away. He backed off immediately, and you wished you missed the flash of hurt on his face. He looked at you with so much worry. “What happened?” 
He was sitting across from you on the pavement and you couldn’t bear to see him, lit geometrically by the moonlight and the explosions in the sky, brows creased. Averting your eyes, you fiddled with the edge of your dress and sniffled. What were you supposed to say? It was hard to say anything. You fought down the tears pressing at your eyes again, swallowing your emotions before you looked at him again, almost robotically.
“I’m fine,” you said, nodding, and only adding more when his face twisted in confusion. You were always honest with each other, he thought, why were you lying? “It’s stupid, I’m.. I’m on my period and my hormones are just.. Bleugh.” You found it in yourself to giggle.
Silence, only decorated with the constant stream of fireworks and distant laughter of drunk college kids. Chan studied you for a moment, legs crossed and arms slung over his knees. “Cheol said you looked upset.” 
“Yeah, I, uh, I was thinking of that sad dog movie.” 
Another pause. “Old Yeller.” 
The distance between you had never felt wider and you were certain Chan could feel it too. 
“You know you can tell me anything right?” You wished your laughter hadn’t been so heart-achingly bitter. He looked so confused. All he wanted to do was make you feel alright, why wouldn’t you let him?
A nod. “Yeah,” you breathed in deeply, tear-streaked makeup drying from the gentle wind. “I know.” 
The air had become so thick, you had to gulp down breaths. Chan cocked his head to the side and looked at you soulfully. You were staring at your knees, nervously playing with your fingers, and a flush had crept up your neck to the very tops of your shiny cheeks. He sighed. “I can get, uh,” he hesitated for a moment, “I can get Soonyoung down here. If you want.” You nodded before he was even done talking. Anything was better than sitting across from him - not now. This time you knew better than to look at his face, because you knew your entire facade would break down the moment you’d catch the frown on his face at those words. 
The moment Chan left, you sighed so deeply, relief and despair coming in a pair to crash over you like a wave. Soonyoung came not two minutes later and, ever the great comforter, immediately tried to make you laugh, sitting in the grass right in front of you.
“Oh my god,” he put on his best Jennifer Coolidge voice, “you look like the fourth of July!” _____________________________
Your first instinct was to hide - to turn over a stone and lay under it without breathing. Maybe then, if you separated yourself from him the feelings would simply dissipate, like perfume throughout the day. But you and Chan had a ridiculous amount of classes together, - something you used to enjoy and cherish - and every interaction had become half-awkward. 
What also didn’t help is that him and Irene did not seem to just be a party fling. You were walking the halls with him, backpack slung across your shoulder, and listening to him drone on and on about a date.
“I think it’s the blonde,” he explained, “I think she likes the blond.” He peeked his eyes over to you, as you walked and you nodded. “It looks good,” you smiled, heart crushing when his face lit up, that sharky smile playing on his lips. “Right? But I don’t know what to wear. I don’t think she liked my jacket. You know, at the party.” At the mention of the party, his giddy expression faded a little, eyes flicking back to look at you again.
You’d been different since then. A little quiet and every word a little strained, every breath a huff, every smile somewhat unable to reach your eyes. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. For the life of him, Chan couldn’t. You’d told him when you got a tampon stuck a couple months ago, you’d told him about your awful dates, about your most embarrassing moments in your life. Something had to be serious, he thought, watching the way your eyes had become darker and sunken, for you to shut him out completely.
“Y/n,” he said and his voice was abruptly so, so soft. His hand came to cradle your own, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyebrows cinched together when you looked at the way his thumb caressed your knuckles. “You are okay, right?” and all of a sudden he was so close to you, head bopping downwards to catch your eyes, a little breath becoming humid on your cheek. For just a split second, he saw how scared you were, an emotion that took up all the space in your head, widened eyes darting up to his. Then it was gone. You smiled a tight line, ripping your hand from his. “I’m good. I’d be better if we actually made it to class on time.” 
You were bouncing away and for a few moments he stood still, watching you. 
“Alright,” he whispered to himself.
_____________________________
 You and Chan met through Seungcheol. It was your first year and you were fresh-faced, young and a totally different person. It was your first biochem project and the teacher had paired you with Seungcheol - Seungcheol, who you just so happened to know was amongst the most popular guys at school. He was sweet though, if not a little slow, but he was excited to get into the project and had invited you to his place to study. You had graciously accepted, seeing as your roommate-situation at the time was less than ideal. 
You had just hunkered down with stacks of books and laptops open on his desk, when Seungcheol got a call; to this day you’re not sure about the specifics of it, and all the information you’d later been able to pry from Seungcheol was that “Jeonghan was in trouble”. Whatever the case, the man had taken the phone and immediately taken on a crease in his forehead and a small frown on his lips, before apologizing profusely and promising that he’d be back in 20 minutes or so. 
And there you were, wearing a dress and hairclips and sitting idly at his desk, while his roommate sat, just a few feet from you, on his bed with a controller and a headset on. That was the first time you saw Lee Chan. He had sharp eyes that you found intimidating at the time - especially with the focused grimace he wore, something you later found endearing. And, of course, you knew he was popular as well. How couldn’t he be, when his muscles were showing through his t-shirt, and he looked beautiful even in the domestic state you found him in. Maybe especially in that situation. 
“D’you wanna see me play?” he’d asked, eyes not even leaving the screen. “Um,” your voice was meek, “sure.” 
Seungcheol didn’t come home for another three hours. The sky turned from a bright blue into an orange hue outside the campus-curtains, and you sat cross-legged beside Chan on his bed, watching him play Overwatch. Had it been anyone else, you were sure this would’ve been the longest, most awkward three hours of your life. But for whatever reason, you and Chan just clicked. It was all laughter and smiles, and it felt like you had known each other forever. Fate had whisked the two of you together with a gentle push. That was two years ago. 
Chan defied all your expectations. Surely, a young man who was attractive and popular would be an asshole, you’d thought, but he was so sweet, something that was most apparent when he smiled and laughed, eyes becoming crescents and toothy grin becoming sharp at the upturned edges. 
Maybe you’d always liked him. You’d started reflecting on your relationship after that party, and came to realize that there’d always been a faint mist in your chest. A soft hum that drummed within your ribcage, when you saw him. It was warm, pleasant and constant when you felt his warmth at your side. 
And sure, your relationship had had its moments. You distinctly remembered sitting between his legs while watching a movie once, and how you’d been so uncertain if he was okay with the skinship. His face behind your ear, you heard the smile in his voice, as his hands ran along your arms: “It’s okay, N/n. I’m cool with this if you are.”
You found yourself thinking about that often, but now there was a distinct pain to the memory. It was especially painful, when the gap between you and Chan was widening with every day. He tried to reach out, tried to catch you in the halls, but you were always “busy”. 
Chan caught on to the fact that you were avoiding him when you started showing up late to classes, just so you wouldn’t have to walk with him; hear him talk about Irene, while that once soft drum had become a marching band in your chest. So you scrambled inside 5 minutes late, much to the dismay of your professors, and found a spot with some random classmate - far away from Chan. You’d have your eyes turned to the board, but you couldn’t focus, not really. Like a constant thorn in your side, you felt Chan’s sharp eyes across the room, boring into with such an intensity you thought you might catch on fire. Scribbling useless notes and focusing your energy - what little energy you had - on the class, you determinedly avoid his eyes. Had you seen them, never once darting astray from your form, you’d see the tenderness they held. “Why are you avoiding me?” His eyes said. 
And then: “Why are you avoiding me?” his mouth said, out of breath from chasing after you in your hurried exit. You turned to him, almost bleeding into the blue of the accented-wallpaper. His eyes softened at your wounded expression. You were gently ripping apart at the wish to see him and be around him, with simultaneous urge to ignore him and become free from his scrutinizing gaze. He would never not know that something was wrong.
He scanned the crowded hallway, and gently, almost as if testing the waters (which he hadn’t felt the need to do in years) placed a hand on your upper arm. “Come on.” 
You gave in. God, it was so easy to give in. You missed him. You missed him like a fish might miss water, had it been taken away from it. You missed him like a priest misses God, when his presence ebbs away and the sky is suddenly so very empty. So it was so easy to be led on, to sit down in the passenger of his car and just close your eyes and enjoy how it felt to be beside him. Chan scanned you as he drove, laying there with closed eyes, willing yourself to not look at him again, and realize you had to throw this all away. 
He said nothing that entire car ride. Maybe he sensed the desperate need you felt to just have this silence. You clung to it as if it were tangible, as if someone would take it away. He would, once you entered his apartment. Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. You placed yourself on bed and played with the fraying edges of his IKEA duvet cover.
“I miss you.” he said. You sighed, pursing your lips and looking at your fingers. “I miss you too.” 
“You’re avoiding me,” he said, only a faceless presence in your peripheral. 
“I’m not avoiding y-...” you trailed off when he crouched down in front of you, your entire vision cursed (or blessed?) with his frustrated face. “You are,” he said, eyes boring into yours. You trembled. “I’m not, I’m just busy.” He backed away, sulking, and you tried not to make it obvious that you heaved in a shaky breath from the proximity.  “I can tell when you’re lying, you know?” 
You laid down on the bed, arms crossing over your chest as if you were a corpse. Was there a way out of this, you wondered. Every glance, every touch, and every word that dropped from his mouth poked and prodded at you sadistically. 
“I’m not lying.” 
You heard fumbling and raised your head to see Chan, having discarded his shirt, putting on a new one and you cringed at how your heart sped up, seeing his toned stomach, before it disappeared under a sweater. “What are you doing?” you asked. He sighed. He glanced at you before studying himself in the full-length mirror Seungcheol had stolen from Mingyu. 
“I’m going on a date with Irene in, like, twenty minutes.” 
A pause. You sat up.
“Oh.” 
He went on, throwing around scattered clothes and grappling for a cologne in his bag. “I’m sorry, I can’t cancel this, I don’t think she’ll really appreciate it,” he laughed a little. Throwing his head over his shoulder, his smile faded when he sensed your sorrow. His heart hurt then, so he moved, freshly spritzed with the cologne you bought him last Christmas, to stand in front of you on the bed. Your breath hitched when his hand found your cheek and he was suddenly dripping with sincerity and an emotion you really hoped wasn’t pity. “I just- I really wanted to talk to you, Y/n. I’m really worried about you.” You leaned into his hand pathetically, almost whimpering against it. You missed how his embrace felt. His thumb brushed over your cheek and he lingered there, eyes trained on you for just a moment - perhaps a moment too long - before he pulled away.
Suddenly he was putting on a jacket and ruffling his hair in the mirror again. “If you want you can stay here until I come back? It’ll only be, like, an hour and a half, two hours. Cheol will be home soon, he can keep you company.” 
“Yeah, maybe,” your eyes were huge, when you willed yourself to stare at the floor. Chan must’ve sensed the meekness in your voice, because he looked over at you through the mirror, a frown on his lips. “I promise we’ll talk, I just- I don’t wanna disappoint Irene.” 
It ached when you responded: “There’s nothing to talk about, Channie. I’m fine.” 
“I’ll see you in a couple of hours?” you only nodded half-heartedly. 
“Bye, N/n.” 
“Bye, Channie.” 
He left with a rustle of his keys, and when the door was closed, your body contracted, muscles pulling inwards until you were hugging your knees in his sheets. And you were crying because it smelled like him, and because he had held your cheek with such care, only to leave moments later for another woman. Everything you held dear, every moment you lingered on was just one-sided. Your tears were crystalline confinements for your most treasured memories with him and you were bleeding out on his bed, sliced in the heart.
It was Seungcheol who found you there like that, curling up in his roommate’s bed with painful sobs squeezing your whole body. You told him. Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did. “I love him,” you cried, and Seungcheol stroked your back, as he listened. “And he doesn’t love me back.” 
You apologized abashedly when you had calmed down, but Seungcheol only tutted and shook his head. “That’s what friends are for,” he’d said and patted your hair, and you giggled even though you felt all silly with your red face and your puffy eyes. The older man promised not to say anything, and you found yourself trusting him completely. You bid your goodbyes and felt a little lighter.
When Chan came home a heavy duvet of regret settled in his stomach. You were gone, only the faint mist of your perfume left behind in his room. When night fell, he slept on a bed stained with your tears. _____________________________
A week passed and you spent every moment alone in your dorm room, ignoring papers and deadlines in favor of lying completely still under the covers. Soonyoung came over with food every once in a while, and always left devastated at how completely disarranged you were. He felt powerless and if there was one thing Kwon Soonyoung didn’t like, it was feeling powerless.
That was how you found yourself in a very John Mulaney-like situation on a monday afternoon, sitting before Soonyoung and, surprisingly, Seungkwan, Soonyoung’s roommate, in a nearby café. 
“What is this?” you asked, arms crossed and leaned back in your seat, unimpressed. Soonyoung smiled sheepishly, sliding a paper across the table. It read “Intervention” in big, bubbly letters, colored with cheap highlighters. “An intervention?” you said incredulously. 
“Yes, we’re worried about you!”
“He’s worried about you. I’m skipping physics for this,” Seungkwan butted in.
“The community is worried about you,” Soonyoung gave a harsh glare to the younger boy, who was mirroring your distaste for the current situation. “So we’re hosting an intervention.” 
“This is bullshit,” you said. “Agreed,” came Seungkwan. 
“Alright, you two! Let Daddy explain,” Hoshi waved his arms in outrage and the two of you groaned at the word choice. “Y/n. I am sick and tired of watching you cry and cry and sit at home over a boy who is fricken’ in love with you!”
“Did you just say ‘fricken’?” 
“Unimportant. The point is get your act together and tell him or get over him!” Soonyoung was determined. While you felt his point of view was certainly unfair to you, your demeanor gave way a little. He was right, you knew. This was ruining you more than you’d care to admit. “You are worth so much more than this.” 
“As much as I hate to contribute to this, Soonyoung has been telling me all about.. Your situation, and I have to say I agree. I thought you and Chan were dating until Soonyoung told me this,” Seungkwan said, smiling sympathetically at you. You frowned. “It doesn’t matter what you guys think, you know. He doesn’t see me like that.. It just fucking hurts.” 
“If he doesn’t see you like that, then fuck him--”
“Don’t say that, Soonyoung--” 
“You need to put your energy into a man who will know your worth!” Soonyoung sassed and Seungkwan snapped his fingers once for emphasis, face totally blank.
“I know you’re right, okay?” you reasoned, sighing. “It’s not as simple as that. I know you want to help, Soonyoung, but.. I just need time.” 
Soonyoung deflated, but he understood. I guess he was a little powerless in this situation. Even Seungkwan, who definitely was not thrilled about missing physics, smiled sorely. You watched them and hated yourself for bringing worry to everyone around. Like an oil spill in the ocean, your black mass infected everything around you. They’d done nothing and here you were, parading your sadness like My Chemical Romance in 2006. 
“Thank you anyway.”  _____________________________
Chan was theorizing. There were only so many things that could happen so suddenly, that could make you push him away like this. He hadn’t seen you in a week and he’d begun biting his nails again. Every waking moment had become consumed with this question: why? Why were you acting like this? Irene would pointedly comment on how quiet he was being, and his lies came like flowing water. 
Chan was certain that he’d never experienced anything harder than watching you unravel everyday. Every morning more disheveled than the last, every smile more dull. Let me help you, he’d think, watching you slump in your seat on the other side of the room, running an unsteady hand over your face. You’d even found a way to avoid him after class. Day after day he’d run after you when you sped out of class, and when he reached the hallway where students were pouring out, you’d be gone like a faint ghost. 
Irene ended things with him over a text. “I just don’t see us working out anymore,” it’d read and lying in his room he’d sighed quietly. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The text diverted his attention for only a minute, before he was staring at the ceiling again, thinking of you. It had to have something to do with him somehow. But no matter how much he scrutinized every interaction you’d had, he came up blank. 
“Are you okay?” It was Seungcheol, standing in the doorway and hanging his jacket on their clothing rack while eyeing him. He’d hardly heard him come in. Chan heaved a sigh, long lines of worry oozing out of him. 
“Y/n’s been acting really weird with me. I can’t figure out if it’s something I did,” Chan squeezed his eyes shut. “I just want her to be okay.” 
Seungcheol frowned sympathetically. “Maybe you should just leave her alone.” Chan’s eyes sprung open and he grimaced, before ruffling the sheets where he sat up on the bed. Seungcheol was settling himself onto his bed, phone in hand and head against the headboard. “Why are you saying that?” 
For a moment, Seungcheol flashed his brown eyes with a hint of ‘oh shit’ in them, before they relaxed and he regained composure. “I don’t know, maybe she just needs some time away from you.” 
A pause swallowed the room. Chan studied his friend with furrowed brows. “Did she talk to you?” 
“Uh-” 
“You know why she’s acting like this!” Chan raised his voice, weeks of frustration crackling in the pit of his stomach. He stood up, so he could tower over Seungcheol’s bed. “Relax, man, I don’t know anything-” 
“You do! Tell me what’s going on, Seungcheol-” Only a few words had been shared, but they’d tugged at the right strings, and suddenly Chan’s muscles were tightened as they buried into Seungcheol’s collar. The older man scowled and wrapped his hands around his roommate’s wrists in warning. Chan’s hold untightened and unscrewed and he slumped in on himself like a piece of paper, “please, Seungcheol, please. I’m going crazy.” 
Seungcheol’s gaze softened. He pushed the boy’s hands away and sat up on the bed, voice a low, solemn grumble. “I can’t tell you.” 
“Fucking please, Seungcheol. What if something happened to her? At that party. I keep thinking about it, how I wasn’t with her, and what if some asshole harassed her or something. I googled it and Google said women can feel lost, lonely and embarrassed over stuff like that,” Chan started pacing. “And then I was thinking what if it was a friend of ours? And maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to tell me, but, of course, I’d support her in anything she told me.” 
Chan stilled in his wandering across the narrow floorspace. “Can you at least tell me she’s okay?” 
All sharp eyes and blonde hair and panted breaths Chan stood in the middle of the room and waited for Seungcheol to tell him that you were okay. Chan would’ve even been at peace with Seungcheol telling him that you never wanted to see him again, fuck, as long as you were fine and you still laughed and smiled, even if it was with Soonyoung and not him.
But the answer didn’t come. Seungcheol frowned and fiddled with his watch. “I don’t think so, man.” 
Whatever ties had held Chan back before snapped. He stood still for maybe three seconds in the unlit room, before his body burst into action and he was scrambling for his jacket and keys.
“Fuck this.” 
Sprinting down monotonous corridors, a hard-headed Chan let wisps of blonde hair flow behind as the air kissed his cheeks. He wore the crease in his brow that had become permanently etched onto his features. Chan had a one track mind; maybe that’s why things didn’t - wouldn’t - work out with Irene. Currently, the record spinning was you and he’d gone damn near insane, so this time he’d made up his mind. He was not leaving until you talked to him. Whisking past door after door in the quiet nighttime, catching Wonwoo exiting some random dorm and smiling sheepishly, he ignored him and braved forward. 
It was not until he was standing right in front of your door that he hesitated. The door framed his figure entirely, trapping him within its confines. What if Seungcheol was right? What if he was making things worse? 
But for Chan, he wasn’t sure that he could go any lower. Every day had become a new rock bottom, every day that you avoided him, every moment wondering what he could have possibly done. He missed your smile. So then he was knocking at your door.
“Fuck off, Soonyoung, I’m not going to anymore interventions!” you yelled, voice hoarse from beyond the door. Intervention? Had you developed a drug problem? He knocked again and heard you groan, before heavy footsteps thumped towards him. 
“What do you want, Soonyo-” you paused, door half-creaked open. Your eyes were two moons, and your nose and cheeks were red. “Chan,” you breathed, voice nasally from a stuffy nose. Chan said nothing, only pushed past you to get inside. You sniffled.
Your heart was a bomb, or maybe a firework. Chan had lit the fuse and standing before him, where he was half lit in the middle of your room, you knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded, chest blazing with a parade of colors for the fourth of July. Because it was him, a greek fucking god in your toy-decorated room, in his sweatpants and a white t-shirt, and it was you, wimpish and thoroughly out of order, in pyjama shorts and a pink sweater. 
“Come. Here.” He wasn’t asking. You nodded and took two steps, and the moment you were within arms reach he enveloped you in his chest. His arms were so strong and warm, one wrapping around your waist and the other bunching up your hair to keep you pressed into him. Your cheek bunched up against his heart, you closed your eyes and heard how fast it was beating. He was scared. 
“Talk to me,” you could hear it, too, the fear. His voice was trembling and even though you couldn’t see his face you could imagine his brown eyes glazed over and lips in a pout. The thought squeezed at your heart. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut at the raspiness in your voice. “Don’t be, just talk to me. Please,” his voice was a wavering breath. He pulled away, head ducking down to peer into your eyes. Your cheeks burned and you looked away, becoming completely enamored with the white of his shirt, just for the sake of not seeing his eyes. Then both his hands were on your cheeks, a little harsh at first, but then softening. “Look at me.” 
He leaned closer, one hand straying from your cheek to hold you by the back of the head. “Look. At. Me.” he gritted his teeth and you felt the warmth of his face hitting yours. You did. You looked at him, saw him again, really, the guy you’d been avoiding and simultaneously praying closer to you standing before you like a kicked puppy. Suddenly you were crying. It felt like he’d turned you inside out. 
“No, no, no, don’t cry, pretty, talk to me, talk to Channie, okay?” he frowned before he was pushing your face closer, nosing your cheek and hair, just a big baby in front of you, with hot and humid breaths on your freshly wetted skin when his lips brushed over it. His hand on the back of your head was only urging you closer, and his back was hunched in a long arch just so he could be with you, as close to you as possible. 
And while his touch was bliss for a moment, the reality of it came crashing down, and your hands waved him off, taking a step back, which Chan followed with a step forward. He looked so hurt, hands held out for you to take but you shook your head.
“Don’t- Don’t do this to me, Chan. Not when-” you were shaking when you reached up to rub over your eyes. “Not when- Not when you have Irene to go back to.” 
“Irene?” He asked incredulously, almost in outrage, almost as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. It spurred you on. “That’s what this is about?” 
“No!” you cried, “Or- yes, I don’t know.” 
Chan was silent for a few moments when you began pacing, hands over your eyes. “You were jealous?” 
“No- That’s not the point!” your lip trembled when you removed your hands and looked at him again, his arms at his sides, now that he didn’t have you to hold.
“We were never going to stop being friends, you know-” his voice was quiet and yours overpowered his easily, when you screamed at him to say: “I didn’t want to be friends!” 
Boom goes the dynamite, indeed. Fireworks filled every crevice of your ribcage.
“Because I love you,” you paused only to flick your eyes over to his, and you sucked in the fear. Your voice shook when you continued: “And I think I have for- for, like, a year? And I only realized on the fourth of July and there you were with Irene, and I just… And I thought if I backed off these feelings would go away, because you obviously don’t-” 
“Irene broke up with me,” his voice was much quieter than yours. You wanted to scream and cry and yell, because what did that matter? Why did that matter when it changed nothing? But then he spoke again: “She broke up with me because I kept thinking about you.” 
Silence. It hit you that Chan was not informing you, he was telling himself this.
“Yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck and chuckled dryly, “I kept being quiet on our dates, ‘cause I was thinking about you. I guess she sensed it.” 
You were looking at each other in the dim lights. He was so beautiful, cheeks shiny and soft lashes curling over his lids. You sniffled. “Does that mean that you-” 
Yes.
Yes, it did, because before you could even finish your sentence he was taking a step forward and his hand was on your cheek again and this time his lips were on yours and fireworks, fireworks exploded in your chest and on your lips like bursts of static, but this time it wasn’t pained, it was beautiful, and you’re melting into his hold, just as he was yours. Lips moving in perfect unison, he tilted his head down and you tilted yours up, and grabbed his neck, and his other hand slid onto your waist, resting there, as the two of you rocked under the artificial light of your overhead lamp. 
Everything you yearned for was in your hands and you didn't dare to pull away, only whimpering when you ran out of breath, and chasing his lips when he pulled away to breathe. He chuckled, mouth curved upwards in that beautiful smile that you love. You love it, and there’s no point in hiding it. He pressed his forehead against yours and you’re panting into each other’s mouths.
“I love you too,” he said. You grinned, a perfect blush spread across your rounded cheeks, and his heart soared so much that he had to kiss you again, pecking and mumbling it again and again against your lips: “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 
His tongue slid over your lip and you opened your mouth with a squeak. His tongue was wet and warm in your mouth and his hands were suddenly on your hips, pushing them into his. Then he pulled away, blushing himself when a string of spit connects you. “Is this okay?” he asked, so softly, so gently, and you nodded, flushed and out of breath and pathetically desperate.
“Yes,” you whined, “need you so bad.” He cooed when you pressed your hips into his, long fingers brushing hair out of your face. “Channie’s gonna take care of you. Channie’s gonna make it up to you,” and yet again it's almost like he was saying it to himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he lowered the two of you onto your bed. Hair strands stretched from their roots in your head, when you hit your plush pillow, and you were all shiny and sparkling eyes, laid out before him in a way that he never dared to imagine. “Too pretty,” he whispered, kissing you again. 
He was grinding into you, anchoring himself on your waist and whimpering into the corner of your mouth at the feeling of your warm center through your shorts. “Baby, need you so bad. Can I take this off?” he tugged at your shirt and you nodded, unable to get anything out but whines. He pulled off the pink fabric, marveling at your bare chest before him. Of course, he’d seen it before, in tight shirts, on days where you’d decided to forgo a bra, and he’d always cursed himself for imagining the real thing. “You’re so beautiful,” he cried, as he hit your core just right and he stared at your tits’ slight jiggle. 
“Such a pretty baby, so ready for me, can I touch them, please, please?” he was babbling, somehow already pussydrunk, but you were no better, eyebrows cinched together in pleasure, nodding without even an ounce of hesitation at his request. He groped at your chest, thumbs brushing over the hardened buds, before he ducked his head down to suck on one. You’re gasping, as his tongue flicked over you, hands tangling themselves in his hair, moaning his name into the air. He hummed loudly, and you felt a thick glob of wetness escape your pussy at just the sight of him, hunched over you like a wild animal, panting into your chest.
“You’re so pretty,” you whispered and he let go of your tit with a small ‘pop’, lifting his head to look at you. He was grinning ear to ear, face still hovering over your chest. “Am I?” and suddenly he was so cocky, hand cupping your heat through your shorts, and watching as you buck into his hand with a strangled moan. “Needy girl, need pretty Channie to touch you, hm?” He teased, fingers gently rubbing over the fabric of your damp shorts.
“Please,” you whined, thrashing in the sheets, desperate enough to cry. He cooed and shushed you, hovering over you by one, strong arm: “Shh, sweetheart, shh, I know. I got you, I’ll make you feel good.” As much as Chan wanted to make you beg, he was desperate too, and he couldn’t help the slight guilt of what you’d been through. The thought almost made him frown, but he pushed it away and peeled off your shorts and underwear in one swoop. 
You cried out when his fingers were finally sliding through your folds. Your eyes, half closed, flicked up to see him, gaze trained on your core in amazement. “You’re so wet, baby,” he purred, spreading the warm slick up to your clit to start circling it with two fingers. “Just for you- Mngh!” 
He plunged two fingers into you with ease, wetness coating his fingers to let them slide in. You were panting and thrashing and moaning his name, and he just watched with the biggest hardon he’d ever had, how he made you feel good and how pretty you were, and how much he never wanted to pull his fingers out of your sopping wet heat. 
“Do you want my fingers in your mouth?” he asked, and you squeezed your eyes shut and nodded vigorously. “Hey, hey,” the fingers that weren’t plunging in and out of you and curling into your pussy’s sweet spot, squeezed your chin. Your eyelashes fluttered open, and you stared at him with blown out eyes. “You gotta look at me while you do it.” 
Then his fingers prodded at your lips, and you opened them with a whine, willing yourself to keep them open, to see how he smiled adoringly down at you. They were filling you just right, one hand stuck in your pussy and the in your mouth, teasing over your tongue. Your orgasm was approaching, knotting in your stomach, embarrassingly fast. 
He groaned at the sight of you, looking up at him with huge, adoring eyes while sucking his fingers. “Fuck, fuck, good girl, such a good, appreciative girl, taking my fingers wherever she can.” You clenched around him at that, and he chuckled knowingly. “Yeah, you like being my good girl? Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.” 
You released his fingers only to moan - almost scream - his name, as you came around his fingers, curling into you and working you through your orgasm. “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum on Channie’s fingers. Look so pretty when you cum.” 
You were still dazed on your bed in the glimmering aftermath of your post-orgasm, when you heard Chan shuffling beside you, and then he was leaning over you once again, shirt and pants discarded and cock proud and stiff and leaking precum onto your stomach. You groaned at the sight, hand trailing over his exposed stomach, where abs dipped and rose, glistening softly. Then your thumb caressed and pressed against his slit and he hissed, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. 
He nosed at your neck, pecking a little, before speaking, voice too strained and too pretty: “Can I fuck you, baby? Please, please, I need to feel you around me so bad.” He had shut his eyes tight, fighting the urge to grab hold of your back and press your tits into his chest.
“Please,” you came back equally as whiny, writhing in his hold, where his thumb was rubbing soft circles in your hip bone. “Please, wan’ your cock. Need it.” He smiled into your neck, grabbing your head and kissing your cheek. “So cute.” 
You felt the head of his cock slide through your still impossibly wet folds, then pressing against your entrance. You were murmuring his name over and over and he was panting into your neck and licking a stripe of wet glistening saliva onto it, as he began to push in. 
You were writhing so much he had to place his hands on your hips to still you, whispering soft reassurances until he was pushed all the way, clit pushed into his abdomen. You’re so full, you can’t stop the wanton moans at the feeling of his pretty, red cock, every bulge and vein pressed against your gummy walls. “You’re so fucking tight,” he spat, fearful that he’d spill his load into you immediately from the way you were clenching him. Then, slowly, he was rocking into you and the both of you were clambering onto one another. Your hands found his neck, his hair, his flexing biceps, and his your hips, waist, boob, and then clambering up to hold your face and look into your eyes. 
“Look at me,” you almost didn’t catch the way he repeated those words from before, but you looked into his brown orbs, blonde hair curling over and tickling your forehead. “So fucking pretty, so cute, my little cumslut. Say you want my cum, baby, please, say it.” 
“Wan’ your cum!” you cried, as he angled his cock inside you to press into that spongy spot. He was giving in to all his wants at your words, pulling you up by pressing his arms under your back, so your tits pressed against his chest, and he was nosing at your face again, trailing kisses everywhere he could reach. “So good for me, so pretty, all mine. Fuck, sweetheart.” 
“All yours,” you babbled mindlessly, when his hand snaked between your bodies to rub circles into your clit. “Cum for me, cum for me, baby.” 
His thrusts were growing sloppy, and you felt the knot tightening in you once more, pulled tight and ready to snap. “Cum, cum, come on, my pretty darling. Fuck, Y/n, I love you!” 
At those words you came, pussy pulsating around his cock and clenching so tight, he was unsure if he could even pull out in time. He did though, pulling out just in time to see his seed spill all over your soft stomach. 
Panting and out of breath, his arms gave out and he collapsed on top of you, body covering yours. “Ugh,” you groaned and looked up at you, laughing softly. “Chan, you’re heavy,” you complained. “I’m a weighted blanket,” he countered, but climbed off of you anyway, lying down next to you. You looked at him, with the side profile of a god, and his blonde hair tousled and chest rising and falling.
“You are pretty,” you said, and you could almost cry when he looked at you and blushed. 
“You should’ve just told me,” he whispered, turning his head to gaze at you. You frowned and nodded. “But it doesn't matter now,” he reassured, one hand climbing from the sloping, bunched up duvet and running his hand through your hair. He tilted his gaze towards your cum covered stomach, some of it having smeared onto himself, and he pushed himself off the bed. "I'll get a towel."
Naked and divine, he disappeared into your small bathroom.
“Oh, God..” you groaned suddenly, face morphing into anguish.
“What?” Chan called from the bathroom.
“Soonyoung is going to be the most insufferable person on the planet when he finds out about this."
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xuchiya · 2 months
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vampire! seonghwa au
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request are open !!!
imagining how seonghwa would lock your arms behind you with one arm while the other around your chest as his pace hasten each time his cock presses abusively on your g-spot, you wailing at the over bearing bliss, "faster please ..."
"do you want me to go faster?" he whispers, you nodded shameless as you cry for him to go faster, "... harder ~hwa."
a low, feral sound rumbled in seonghwa's chest, an intense amount of lust stormed, brewing behind his crimson eyes. the last thread of his patience snapped, replaced by a dark chuckle that echoed through his fire-lit chambers, "did i hear that right?"
"yes seonghwa fuck me harder please!" your arms were free thinking you would be able to prop yourself on your arms but that moment was short as you felt yourself being pushed down on the plushed sheets, his hands clutching your hips , adjusting himself between your spread legs, his warm breath next to your ear, "you ask for it."
seonghwa's hips snapped harder each cry of 'plea' leaves your lips. seonghwa had his hips pounding to your pussy, ass clapping each time his hips thrusted, "s-shit... this pussy is mine."
seonghwa knows your body well that he repeatedly pounding to your g-spot, your screams were muffled on the sheets, manicured gripping tightly on the pillows even on his wrist. broken groan in his throat as he feel his climax reaching him.
you were completely destroyed, scattered with his fang bites, hickeys from your shoulders, down to your chest. he loves ruining you every night.
"i'm gonna cum on this pussy and you'll take every drop of them, yeah" you nodded, tears of pleasure runs down on your redden cheeks, "yes yes yes ... yes fu-fuck!"
he pulled you up halfway by your elbows, as his thrust becoming sloppy until he groans loudly, "that's it ... !" emptying himself deep inside you. when he successfully loads his cum inside, he loosens his grip on your elbow, letting you softly drop on his bed and pulls out, watching his cum drips but seonghwa plunge his fingers inside your pussy.
he looks at your squirming figure desperately trying to remove his hands but his strength has nothing on you as he effortlessly grip them as three of his fingers were buried deep inside.
"take it like a good cumslut you are." you were overstimulated with the amount of orgasm seonghwa has given you since the sun sets.
"i'm gonna cu-cum ... fuck seonghwa i'm cumming!" your hips shifts desperately on his fingers as you made yourself squirt your juices, long vocal of 'fuck' left your lips. you sigh contentedly, your hips staying still, finally thinking of resting but you're dead wrong.
"you really think i'm done? baby, we got all night ... i'll fill you up til' morning rise."
yep, you're completely dead wrong.
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ippipo · 2 months
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sukuna ryomen x reader - mafia au? idk but here's sum
Sukuna is the type to buy you expensive presents literally every week. He was a spend-thrift and it was batshit crazy how careless he was with money when it came to you. So you decided to take the matter into your own hands.
You told Sukuna that you'll tear every single clothing he buys you if he doesn't listen to you, to which he casually shrugged and said, "I could just buy you more." After many blackmailing attempts (who are you kidding? this man gets death threats and is attacked at least once every month), you decided to use your ace card.
You didn't talk to him for an entire day. It was pretty childish considering the fact that he was buying stuff only for you, but you recently heard that one of the three powerful mafia groups had gone bankrupt rendering them useless. It scared you because Sukuna's money saving ability was shit despite being the richest mafia ever.
After a few painful hours of knocking on your door, Sukuna was angry and punched a hole into the hard wood. Of course it didn't work, his knuckles started to hurt. That didn't matter to him though, he just wanted to know why you were ignoring him.
"Y/N.." he called out weakly, his voice bleeding with sadness. He had a bad day and he just wanted to be around you. Hearing his pitiful voice, your heart clenched. C'mon, it's not everyday you have one of the strongest people weak on their knees, begging. Seems like you were just as sadistic as the greatest mafia don himself.
You slowly unlocked the door and peered into his eyes, your eyes bearing rigidity that made his cock hard. You grabbed his hand and brought him to your shared bed, pushing him onto it and falling on him, earning a grunt.
You softly dragged your fingers on his palm, sometimes writing his name, sometimes writing your name. He pushed you off to the side gently and got up to undress himself down to just his boxers. He got on to the bed and grabbed you aggressively by your shoulder, pulling you back on top of him, your rightful position.
You bit his shoulder playfully as a payback for manhandling you to which he replied with a kiss on your forehead. "Say, why do you want me to stop buying you things so bad?" He questioned, his voice booming in the quietness of your room.
"Do you want me to tell you the truth?" You asked. "You are to answer my question, not question me back." He flicked your forehead, earning an 'ouch'. "You won't leave me after this?" You asked, ignoring his statement earlier. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.
"Darling, you fucking dumb bitch, I saw you mixing egg yolks with strawberry jam to make a volcano and I'm still with you." He stated. You muttered 'reasonable' before clearing your throat, preparing yourself for something you thought would embarrass you.
"Okay. So, um-" "Get to the point." He said impatiently. "Fine. The clothes you're getting me are the wrong size, they're smaller and I think I grew bigger than last time. I feel weird about myself because they used to fit me but now they're a little tight and uncomfortable and I feel insecure." You said without a break.
"W-" "And I heard some maids saying that three of your enemy gangs went bankrupt and I'm scared you'll waste all your money on things that I won't even use." You added. "First off, how dare you interrupt me." He said and paused.
"Secondly, what do you mean you feel insecure? If anything, I'm the one who was supposed to buy you clothes that fit you, not the ones smaller, it's my fault. And darling, you're a fucking goddess, I don't care if you got bigger, you look just fine to me." He pulled both your cheeks with his fingers and slapped them softly.
"Stop doing tha-" "I didn't marry you for something as stupid as looks, I married you because you're my weird cumslut who can't go a day without dick, plus, you're my wife, no way am I letting something so absurd bother you." He said with a smirk. You slapped his bare chest because of his choice of words, blushing profusely.
"Thirdly, who do you think made them go bankrupt?" You remained silent at that, assured and relieved. "So...you still like me?" You asked. He smacked your cheek and choked you, gently may I add. "Stop asking me stupid questions." He grumbled.
You giggled when his thumb ghosts over your neck, tickling you while his hand was around it. You take his hand that was around your neck and press kisses on his knuckles. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed the spots you kissed, a happy glint in his eye, as if you both actually kissed.
Sukuna doesn't look like it, but he is just happy if you were near him. Your presence is more than enough, a blessing, in fact. To him, you're not a prize, you're a gift, you're a prank gone right, you're his world. Aggressively, he loved you, he cherished you and he will keep on doing it till his last breath.
"I'm still offended you slapped me." You said, turning away when he tried to kiss you. He grabbed your chin and forcefully made you look towards him, to which you didn't object. He gently kissed your lips, capturing your heart and soul within a span of seconds.
A wordless assurance. He needed that to make sure he didn't actually hurt you, because he meant to slap softly, playfully, with pure love, not the kind of slap he was more acquainted with, thanks to his parents (who were dead by the way).
"It's just that..." You began, grabbing his attention though it was already on you. "I don't like the way I look?" It was more of a question than a confession, you were unsure of yourself. There were times you liked the way you looked, there were times you absolutely despised yourself.
It was complicated, your relationship with your body. When you thought you looked good, you didn't. When you thought you didn't look good, you didn't.
It was tough, especially when you're dating someone conventionally attractive. It makes you feel unworthy. That maybe someday he would find someone else. Maybe someone who looks prettier, has both, beauty and brawns.
Even though he treats you like a princess, showering you with his passionate fancy love, you still felt that he could do better. Choose someone better. That thought makes you feel like someone had cut your head and poured vomit inside you, bleaching your organs with vomit, an unshakeable feeling.
You didn't need to say a word though. Sukuna knew what you were thinking. Every thought, every whisper and every breath of yours was familiar to him. It was surprising how well he knew you. Perfect hands wrapped around a perfect waist, your waist. He didn't care how big it was.
He kissed you, aggressively. That's what you called your relationship, aggressive love, which was quite contrary to how he treated you because there was always a hidden gentleness under his aggressiveness. He knew where to draw the line though.
"I don't know why you don't want to believe me, so I might just have to fuck it into you." It was funny how he said it in a very serious tone, he was being serious. "Ryo, I was at a stupid party before coming home and my legs are dead from standing so much." You whined.
"Who says you have to work now? Let me handle your body." He whispered, licking a stripe on the back of your ear. A shiver of pleasure ran down your body, right to your cunt. Oh boy did you know what a night it was going to be.
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folkookie97 · 1 month
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❝ teacher's pet ❞ — JJK
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— SUMMARY: ❝ Jungkook was tired of having all his musical talent neglected by the substitute professor of college. ❞
— PAIRING: undergraduate!Jungkook x music professor!female reader
— TYPE: smut, mild dark | college!au
— WORD COUNT: 564
— WARNINGS: College student x Substitute professor, piano classes, age gap, MILF!reader, slightly Yandere!reader, mention of squirting, Open Ending, fingering, oral (female receiving), degradation kink, screaming and swearing, undergraduate!Yoongi mentioned, Inspired by Teacher's Pet (Melanie Martinez)
— NOTES¹: Jungkook's new CK videos and photos inspired me a lot hahaha
— NOTES²: If you don't like the "Professor x Undergraduate Student (legal age, of course)" dynamics, don't read this. Nothing here involves any non-consensual act, but I just wouldn't recommend it for anyone who has triggers due the trope.
— NOTES³: Maybeee if you like it, I can turn this oneshot into a series...
— RELEASE DATE: February 17, 2024
— CROSSPOSTING: ao3
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"That's the most tasty wet pussy I have ever tasted. I should have fucked you a long time ago." Jungkook hummed as he removed his lips from your swollen bud for a few seconds. The glow of your recent orgasm dripping down his chin and wetting his silver chain and the exposed skin of his pecs, due to the open buttons on his shirt. “You wanna squirt again?”
Immediately, you shook your head, a sad pout forming on your lips when Jungkook let out a chuckle. "Please, Kookie. Make me cum."
"You're nothing but a pathetic little cumslut, aren't you, Professor?" He mocked once again, ignoring your whimpers and getting up from the chair where he was sitting. He moved even closer to the piano lid where you were with your body on top and our legs spread wide, ready to take whatever Jungkook wanted to give you.
With the unexpected approach of his face, you moaned when you noticed his height towering over your fragile body, still shaking from your last orgasm.
Everything about Jungkook exuded an almost inhuman sensuality. The sweetness of his angelic features practically didn't match the sinful abilities that those long fingers and that soft tongue gave you. The pure and innocent smile he always gave you during the last few days had been a sick paradox in the face of the sensation of his teeth nibbling at your sensitive clit until your aching pussy began to squirt over your own piano keys.
"I'm your most exemplary student, but you never gave me the recognition I deserve. You're always choosing Min Yoongi..." Jungkook tilted his head to the side and frowned, his face taking on an fake sadness expression.
You let out a little scream when the warmth of his fingertips touched your clit again in an almost messy but intense manner, taking turns between the five fingers. Strumming you like a fucking piano. Like the fucking piano you were sitting at.
"Kookie..." You gasped as you felt him increase the pressure of his touches. "I'm so—"
Before your apology came to an end, Jungkook grabbed your neck with his free tattooed hand, squeezing it and preventing air from entering your lungs.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" His scream echoed through the empty room, his angry face now frighteningly close to yours. "Fucking stupid bitch, you really think I don't know that Yoongi always fucks you before classes? You really think I don't know that almost all of your best students have eating your dirty pussy at least once?"
You wanted to deny his accusations, lie to him again and say that you had never slept with any of his classmates. You really wanted to keep up your innocent professor facade for at least just a few more weeks.
However, it would be impossible for you trying to resist Jeon Jungkook. From the moment you first laid eyes on that pretty face. From the moment he joined your music classes. You knew you needed Jungkook so bad. You knew you needed to tease him and neglect his talent until he was over the edge. Until his arrogance spoke louder than all morality.
"Now I'm going to fuck you so hard until that piano breaks. I'm going to make you cum so many times that everyone in this fucking college will hear you moaning like the stupid disgusting whore you are."
190 notes · View notes
ilykaveh · 1 year
Text
you should play with me, babe ღ 彡 !
★ — you work in an office and have been seeing one of your co-workers for a while. wanting to see how flustered you could make them during a meeting, you shoot them a text containing a rather suggestive image you’d take of yourself. let’s see how they reacts…
★ — starring : ayato , diluc , zhongli , alhaitham , yae miko .
★ — contains : fem reader / office au / sending photos + filming / individual warnings on each section . minors dni.
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༉‧₊˚. DILUC RAGNVINDR
cw: blowjob, degradation.
the picture has the desired effect on diluc. his face turns the same shade as his hair and he shifts in his seat. he ends up making enough of a scene for others to question if he was feeling okay, to which he just responded that it would pass in a mere moment. you suggested he perhaps step outside for a moment, to catch some air and maybe grab a glass of water, though he refused a little bit too quickly. if the man was to get up, everyone in the room would see his stiff cock bulging against the constricting fabric of his dress pants. the initial shock took a good twenty minutes to wear off - the image of your lithe fingers spreading the lips of your drooling cunt, putting yourself on display for him was etched into the poor man’s eyelids. after the meeting was over, expect to be called into his office. he’ll be sure to make you deal with the problem you’d created and would be mean about it, stuffing your throat with his length. if you tried to play with yourself while he used your mouth, diluc would simply slap your hand away.
“think you deserve to cum after pulling a stunt like that? stupid slut,”
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༉‧₊˚. ZHONGLI
cw : begging, degradation, exhibitionism, dumbification.
zhongli would be much calmer than diluc. his eyes would darken at the image of your plump tits, drool coating the pretty flesh. he’s a master of maintaining a stoic façade. the man ensured his screen was positioned in such way that none of his coworkers could see your exposed body as he replied with a lewd text detailing the things he planned to do to you once the meeting was adjourned. zhongli is most certainly a man of his word, so you followed him into his office afterwards. he teased you, making you beg for his thick cock as he sat stroking himself. degrading words would fall from his lips, reminding you how much of a whore you were for sharing those pictures and how dumb it was, as anyone could have seen them. but you wanted that, didn’t you? for everyone to see what a pretty little cumslut you were? no matter how much you tried to deny it, the way zhongli pushed you against the glass walls of his office and pulled your clothes from your body. your pretty tits were mushed against the cold glass for the rest of the office to see. you didn’t know that the walls had recently been replaced with one way glass, though there were very few thoughts passing through your mind as you were fucked dumb on zhongli’s cock.
“you like being on show like this, don’t you? show them how well i fuck your tight cunt, hmm?”
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༉‧₊˚. KAMISATO AYATO
cw : masturbation, spanking, mean dom ! ayato, clit slapping.
what part of you thought it would be a good idea to send such a thing to ayato? he was a mean, mean dom who made sure that you stuck to his rules. messing around with him at work was most certainly breaking one, and he certainly didn’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself, yet the video you had sent him of your fingers pumping in and out of your soppy hole seemed recent. he’d ignore you and your message, seeing if he could push you to further disobey him. (which you did, sending more explicit images that you had of yourself.) after the meeting, ayato would waste no time getting you alone. expect to be bent over his knee as he tugged down your panties, the flat palm of his hand colliding with you pretty ass. he would not stop until tears pricked your eyes and you couldn’t stop spewing apologies. he’d only offer harsh, degrading words as he would bring his nimble fingers between your folds, mocking you for getting to wet just from him hitting you. you hid your head in the crook of his neck, sobs and moans muffled by his skin. any comfort you felt was gone as ayato pinched at your puffy clit, making you squeal in response. your body trembled as he abused the swollen bud, other arm keeping you caged to his chest. pained cries didn’t stop the man’s assault on your slutty cunt. he drew back his hand, leaving you whining at the loss of contact, only for him to place a few harsh slaps to your clit.
“good whores know their place. maybe if you listened, i wouldn’t have to punish you, darling.”
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༉‧₊˚. YAE MIKO
cw : light petplay, collars, cunnilingus, mommy kink.
yae miko truly considers showing everybody else in the room. you made the bold decision of sending to her work email account, and it would be such a shame if she accidentally clicked to the wrong tab during her presentation. however, something about how fucking submissive you looked with your mouth wide open as a glittery string of drool fell from your lips and onto your bare tits activated the woman's fierce possessiveness. the woman simply shot you a warning glare, promising that you'd pay for your actions later on. due to her position as a high ranking member of the board, nobody batted an eyelash when she demanded that you stay in the room alone with her after the meeting was finished. miko made you kneel before her and apologise for being so bold. when you mentioned that the windows of the conference room made it very easy for her other employees to get a view of you in such a provocative position, she only reminds you of your prior actions. she debates the possible punishments that she can inflict on her poor, needy puppy, eventually settling on letting you eat her out, all the while scrolling through her phone and browsing for a custom collar that she believes would suit you rather nicely. miko refuses to let your touch yourself as your lips wrap around her swollen clit, offering a small "tch." as a warning each time you so little as grind against your heel.
"mommy's so nice to you… why do you get off on being such a brat, puppy?"
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༉‧₊˚. AL-HAITHAM
cw : wet dream, reader wears a skirt, pussy inspection, edging.
the safest option after sending an explicit picture to al-haitham is to run. the man can be a bully at the best of times, and now you have just handed him a reason to punish you on the perfect silver platter. you'd chosen to send him a short video you'd taken in the mirror this morning, having woken up with a pair of soaked panties after al haitham had visited you in your dreams. you were sat on the floor and spread your cunt with one hand, holding the phone with the other. if one were to watch him intensely, they would have seen his stoic facade drop for but a millisecond. he shifted in his chair in an attempt to conceal his half-hard cock, and narrowed his gaze while you playfully giggled in his direction. after the meeting, you were dragged into the first free room that al-haitham could find, where locked the door behind him and bent you over his lap. he tugged down your skirt and tore your pair of nylon tights, wanting to waste no time in gaining access to your cunt. he mocked you for the very obvious wet patch on your light-coloured underwear. the man claimed he was simply inspecting to decipher whether or not you'd touched yourself without his permission as the video suggested, though no matter his conclusion he'd edge you on his fingers until you've gone stupid, offering a few heavy handed slaps to your ass if you dare squirm under his touch.
"if you don't stop moving, i'll only make this worse for you, darling."
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asterias-record-shop · 10 months
Note
I’m so glad you liked the soulmate idea! maybe prompt 16? maybe she gets injured and has to tear off some of her outfit when she gets a little self conscious cause of the cameras and realizing the man everyone wants is now publicly her soulmate? could you imagine that for yourself omfg </3 read that prompt and saw his smirk vividly in my head and I couldn’t get it out lol :) katniss would be slapping him every two seconds and trying to keep him on track lollllll :D
—𓆩[be jealous]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Soulmate! Finnick Odair x Soulmate! Fem! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff, maybe slight angst?
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.8K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - If there was one thing that the Capitol wasn’t, it was kind. So when they input the law where soulmates cannot be put into the same game, you and Finnick have to come clean about your relationship in the Quarter Quell - even if it’s too late.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - sorry anon, I had to change it up just a bit! || age difference (3 years) || soulmate AU with the same mark || reader is more naive & weak (physically) || Finnick was your mentor || you don’t think you deserve Finnick for a while, he fixes that || insecure reader || virgin reader || you wanted to keep your soulmate-ship a secret (fails miserably) || oral || 69 || slight penetration || cum eating || fingering || hickeys || creampies || cumslut & pussy drunk terms used
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When you were chosen for the games, you thought your fate was sealed. You were going to be brutally murdered, and you would never see the light of day ever again until Finnick became your mentor.
“Look…” he said, inhaling as you both stood in front of the tube that would take you up to the arena. “I know, I know you’re not that strong,” he whispers, thumb slowly stroking your cheek. “But you fucking run, okay? You run, you hide, you just… you need to come out of there alive, okay?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think I can, Fin, I just-”
“Y/N,” he says firmly, holding your shoulders. “Please. Please come out. For me.”
You inhale deeply as the Peacekeeper yells out ‘five more minutes’, Finnick leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “Promise me you’ll try.”
Finnick was one of the most perfect people you could’ve ever asked for, so as soon as you saw that mark on his lower abdomen right on his hip bone that matched yours, you promised yourself you’d never let him see it. Not when you were going to die in the arena and he would lose his soulmate, someone he didn’t deserve.
Finnick deserved the world, and in your mind, that wasn’t you.
He was always telling you about people who had pretended to be his soulmate, getting tattoos of his mark just to try and get with him, though they always missed the small dot on the lower left side, the same one you had. He then always added that he never wanted to meet his soulmate, saying things like he didn’t want to burden them with what he’s been through or he didn’t think it’d work out.
You knew he would never burden his soulmate, especially you, but you didn’t want to start anything when you would most likely die.
He always said how he had this connection to you that he couldn’t explain, his eyes always filled with so much love it made you want to cry. It would’ve been a horrible decision to tell him really, but everything he did made you want to say it.
“One minute!”
“Finnick, I just-”
“I'm going to watch every second, darling,” he whispered, inhaling deeply. “And I’m going to be with you every moment.”
You nodded, hands shakily squeezing his wrists that cupped your face before starting to step back. You go around him to step onto the platform, slowly stepping inside as Finnick quickly runs onto the platform, pressing his hand to the glass. He inhaled, nodding. “Y-Y/N, I love-”
With that, almost like it was a farewell, your capsule shot up. You emerged in a large field, wheat around you with the center being the classic cornucopia. The numbers started blaring, signaling the beginning of your inevitable demise.
Even then though, you promised Finnick you would try, so you had to. You would run and hide and swim and do everything you could to survive like you promised him, even though you didn’t expect it to gain your victory.
After winning, you couldn’t have taken more showers. Though not physically covered in blood, you felt disgusting, as though all of those deaths were on your hands. You finally stopped when you felt your nails burning, skin almost raw from how much you rubbed it in an attempt to get off the invisible blood, quickly turning around to turn off the water and step out.
You pat your skin down, too scared to irritate it more before putting on some tiny shorts. You really needed to feel the cold instead of warmth like you did all throughout the games and a thin camisole that didn’t hide your soulmate mark. You looked at it in the mirror, the reddish-brown hue making you hum - it was nice to just look at it for a minute instead of hiding it.
It doesn’t take you long to step out, stretching before you notice Finnick sitting on your bed looking starstrucked. “Finnick!”
“Y/N, what the hell is that?”
At first you didn’t know what he was talking about, looking down at the wide gash you had on your forearm. “Oh, the District 1 Career was trying to get a hit in before-”
He stood up abruptly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest, his hand quickly finding its place at your hip. “Is that real?”
You look down, quickly covering the mark. “Y-You… you weren’t supposed to see that.”
You sounded stupid, head hazy as he pressed his finger firmly against it and rubs, gasping when it doesn’t fade or get irritated at his touch. “Did you- why would you keep this from me?”
“Because I thought I was going to die, Finnick,” you inhaled deeply. “I never thought I would see you again. I didn’t want to give you hope-”
“So instead you chose to lie to me and keep the fact that you’re my soulmate and that we could’ve been building a life together? A soulmate bond? How long have you known?” He whispered, leaning down as you looked away.
“Since we started training together.”
He inhaled sharply, letting out a soft whimper as he looked away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought I was going to die,” you explained, holding back tears. “I thought I was going to die and that you were going to be left with hope and I just-” a strangled sob left your mouth as he pulled you into a hug, his lips pressing to your forehead.
“You don’t worry about anything, darling. I promise, I swear,” he pulled away to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I will never let anything happen to you ever again.”
It had been quiet until you both were pulled into the Third Quarter Quell. You volunteered for Mags much to Finnick’s dismay, especially when you both had gotten to the parade.
“It’s too on show, Finnick,” you whisper, trying to lift up your skirt before he swats at your hand. “Finnick!”
“Who cares anymore, darling?” He whispers, pulling you closer. “Why should we hide it, hm? Let everyone know that they should be jealous. I have the most beautiful woman in the world by my side.”
You blushed madly as he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “If they find out, they won’t pull me from the games because they renounced the law,” you whisper, inhaling shakily. “We’re going to get out of there, right? Together?”
He nodded, pushing back your hair. “I swear to you, Y/N, I promise.” He inhaled deeply as the fanfare started, leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “I’ll be right by your side, my love.”
You looked up, nodding as he pushed back your hair, a loud noise making you both look to the side. There Katniss stood, awkward and stick-like as you try to pull away from Finnick on instinct but he just held you tighter. He pulled you away, quickly helping you into the carriage before getting on himself.
“They’re going to have a field day with this,” you say, pulling your skirt a bit lower to expose the mark on your hip. “Might as well give them a show, right?”
He smiled, pulling down his waistband to show off the same mark. “Might as well, darling.”
The news came out sooner than you expected, Finnick pulling you closer to his chest as you sat on his cock. It was peaceful, watching the news a few hours before being dragged into the games. The public was raving about the fact you both were soulmates, and Finnick’s cock that was balls deep inside of you still spurting cum into you as he slowly rolled his hips.
“Want to go again,” he mumbled, his words not a question but a statement. You giggled as he stared at you, eyes hazy and drunk on your cunt. “Please? Can we go again?”
You giggle, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “You just want to fuck because we’re not going to be able to in the games, don’t you?”
He hummed. “Who says we can’t fuck in the games?”
You paused, letting out a soft hum as you started to roll your hips into his. “You’ll just fuck me anywhere, won’t you? Too fucking pussy drunk to think about anything else?”
It was a dangerous game, playing with a more dominant Finnick like this, especially because you were definitely the more submissive person in this relationship. Finnick always felt so fucking good when you acted like this, a sub trying to get more dominant on their dom and tease him, especially when you were on top.
He was going to feed your mind just a bit before he fucked you so hard you wouldn’t remember your name.
After processing your words, he nods as he kisses against your shoulder down to the swell of your tits, kissing and licking at your nipple. “Yes, yes darling. I want to fuck you so bad, please, please. I need to feel that pussy clench around me, need to feel your cunt milk my cock baby.”
He watched your eyes roll back, a smirk finding its way to his lips as he teased your nipple with his teeth. He sucks, groaning as you tug on his hair, pulling him closer as his hands hold your waist, forcing you to roll your hips into his and taking pleasure in the whines falling from your lips. “F-Fin, need you to fuck me.”
He pulled away, staring at your hard nipples and swollen areola. He laughs, looking up at you between your tits, eyes glossed over with lust as he pressed his lips to the center of your chest and sucked against your skin. You whined loudly as he leaves bright hickeys ranging from bright pink to dark purple all along your skin; anywhere from your collarbone to your chest to your sides, lifting you off of him to watch your face scrunch in discomfort when his length is pulled out of you.
“No, Finnick, don’t do that!”
It made him laugh; as pussy drunk as he was, you were cock obsessed more than you’d ever admit.
“What? Why not? I need to make room for more of the cum that I’m going to fill you up with.”
He laid you on your bed, pushing his head between your thighs to kiss against your stretched cunt, already pushing his tongue into your pussy to taste the mixed cum flooding into his mouth. He groaned loudly, his hips bucking into the mattress that did little to nothing to relieve him of the need to be inside of you.
He pulled away, face covered in sheen from your lewd juices, the whine that left your lips making him laugh just a bit. He laid back on the bed, humming. “Come here, darling. Want your pussy on my face.”
You nodded, knowing better than to argue with him when he got like this, quickly moving to hover over his mouth. “F-Fin, are you sure, I don’t know if I can-”
“Darling, if you don’t shut up and sit on my face, I won’t fuck you again tonight.” His hand slapping against your ass proved his point even more, a yelp leaving your mouth as you let your body relax and his mouth suck on your leaking cunt. Your eyes rolled back as he groaned, one hand holding the hip with your soulmate mark, his hand tight as the other pushed up your back while pushing you down. The new angle makes you whine loudly, gasping as his cock slaps against your cheek, his leaking tip smearing cum against your skin.
His cock was so pretty in front of you, thick and long, his tip flushed a bright red as cum leaking out, harder than you had ever seen as his hands squeeze at the plushness of your ass. His moans against your cunt made you whine, pulling his cock into your mouth just like he wanted you to.
Your eyes rolled back as he groaned loudly, fingers slipping into your pussy to scrape his cum from your walls, pulling out everything he could to swallow into his mouth. You whine loudly when his fingers get a little rough, pain blooming making his fingers pull away and a quick apology comes from his mouth. He smiled as he softly rubbed against that one area, kissing softly making you whine as you bobbed your head on his cock.
“Better?”
You nodded around his length, jaw slack as you bobbed your head over his cock, groaning as you pulled away. His cock bounced, mixed saliva and cum dripping down his shaft as you whined loudly. “Y-Yes, Fin, just like that!”
He smirks, pushing a finger back into you as he continues to rub that one spot you loved, curling and thrusting his finger inside of you as you pull his cock back into your mouth. You groaned loudly around his length, bobbing your head as fast as you could before pushing your head down and pulling his entire length down your throat.
Your eyes watered as you gagged, rolling back into your head as his hips thrust up into you, one of his hands forcing your head to stay low. You could only groan around his length as he used your mouth like a cock sleeve, thrusting harder and harder into you as his fingers of his other hand curled inside of you, thumb rubbing against your clit.
You pulled your hair out of your face, holding his thighs for some sort of grounding agent as he rammed his cock into your throat, your nose settled against his balls. He was groaning into your cunt, his tongue flicking and pushing into you as wet squelching fills the room, your throat relaxing as he does one last throat to cum down your throat.
He groaned loudly into your cunt, pushing his fingers into you just to hit that one spot that made you come undone around his digits. You gasped as you pulled away, letting out soft coughs as you swallowed, licking around his length before he pulled you off his face.
It makes you yelp as he quickly laid on your body, giggling as you hugged him tightly and pressed kisses to his hair. He mumbled out a soft ‘I love you’ as he pulled away, quickly gaining the same response from you before cleaning you up and pulling you into his chest. “I’m going to get you out of there alive, Y/N.”
You inhale deeply, pressing your face into his neck. “I know you will, Fin.”
It wasn’t until later in the games, where you stood by the tree did you actually doubt his words. A District 10 tribute had come way too close to you, slashing your side with her blade making you strip off half of your suit that Finnick couldn’t keep his eyes off of.
“What? Don’t stop on my account, I’m enjoying the show.” He was definitely enjoying the show, your soulmate mark on display and half of your skin that was covered in hickeys being shown off as well.
You rolled your eyes playfully, Katniss shoving him every few minutes to get him to focus on what they were doing as you attempted to find something to cover yourself. “Y/N, darling, what are you doing?”
“Trying to find something to cover myself up,” you explain quickly, sighing. “I just… feel exposed.”
He comes over, wrapping his arms around you to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m right here, darling. Always. You don’t have to feel exposed, ever.”
You smiled, pulling him in for another kiss. “I know, Fin. Thank you.”
He would stick by your side until Katniss blows out the top of the arena, cradling you under his body and whispering soft reassurances when you’re both lifted up into District 13s aircraft, and mending your side with the medical supplies.
“I promised I would get you out,” he whispers, smiling. “And I promise I’ll keep you safe, forever.”
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omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!
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Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@yoongiwife23]
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Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪
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© asterias-record-shop
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ja3hwa · 1 year
Text
Day 28 : Breath - Wooyoung
「Title」 : Shhh
「Word count」 : 499
-> Genre: Smut. College Au.
Paring: Fratboy!Wooyoung x Reader
[Warnings] : Messy unprotected sex. Fucking at a party. Frat boy Wooyoung. Choking kink. Breath play. Swearing. Secret relationship. Slight pain kink. Creampie. Let me know if I missed anything.
February Filth Fest Event Day Calendar
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“Shh be quiet.” His hand landed on your mouth, stopping your airflow. His other hand held your neck in pace, tightening your airways completely. You started to feel dizzy as black spots slowly clouded your vision.
“Occupied. So shit somewhere else.” Wooyoung yelled out to San who had been whining from beyond the locked bathroom door for the past three minutes. Wooyoungs thrusts didn’t falter, keeping their hash pace as he fucks you desperately. Your fingers claw at the marble sink top while your eyes water, staring at the smug frag boy behind you. His breathing was rugged and short-paced. He finally removed his hand from your mouth, letting fall to your hips for support but the other stays nicely tucked against your neck. His long fingers are cased around your flesh, finding the right amount of pleasure to tip you over the edge. You couldn’t help but scream.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wooyoung!!!” if no one knew about you, they definitely know now, hearing your sweet moans pooling down the hall from the small bathroom. Wooyoung’s hips don’t stop, instead, they get faster and harder, feeling himself being close to the edge. You beg for him to slow down and that ‘it’s too much’ for your sensitive cunt but he does listen.
“You can take it Doll. Be a good little cumslut and take my load.” His words got your head spinning along with the lack of oxygen. His hot breath tickled your neck as he bit your shoulder threatening to break through the skin. The pain mixing with pleasure felt you wanted more and more. Feeling another orgasm running tightly in your gut.
“Please Woo…” You begged.
“There’s my good girl.” He praised, shifting his position so he could stand up straight, bringing your back flush against his bare chest. “My perfect whore. Fuck I love you.” He swore, snapping his hips one final time before spilling deep inside your dripping pussy. You came soon after, feeling the power of his thrusts slow every time his cock slips inside until he could come to a stop completely. You couldn’t speak, or move, letting Wooyoung pull his cock out painfully slow, making sure you feel every vein while he does so. His fingers that were tight around your throat finally let go for the first time since he caught you hiding out in the bathroom. Meaning you could take a deep breath in, passing out soon after.
-
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© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.
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604to647 · 3 months
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The Wedding, Part 2 (Safest with You AU)
2K / Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader
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Summary: The follow up to this drabble; Din comes home after the wedding.
Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Honestly, this is just porn. Oops. Pet names as usual (Pretty bird, baby, bunny, etc.), established relationship, smut, dirty talk, slight degradation (slut/whore/cumslut), slight daddy kink, unprotected PiV sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, a little ass play. Like I said, OOPS.
A/N: I know in the "main" fic, these two are currently apart, so I had to write them together somehow 🤷🏻‍♀️ hence, this filth was born. (Actually, I feel like writing smut is one of those things that you have to practice? I don't know if anyone else feels the same. So... I practiced 😂)
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Din opens the door quietly, stepping into the dark apartment, careful not to disturb you should you be sleeping.  Al comes over with a wagging tail, and Din greets him with some loving scratches; when the dog, satisfied, trots back to his bed and plops down, that’s when Din sees you laying on the couch, asleep, still wearing your dress from the wedding.
Taking off his shoes, Din pads over silently to you; crouching by your head, he lightly runs his fingers through your hair before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.  You rouse with a soft moan, “Din.”  It’s not a question, but a testament to the familiarity and desire for the mouth that just kissed you.  You blink your sleepy eyes, quickly waking to the sight of the handsome man before you, “I’ve been waiting for you, baby.” You check him over quickly, “Was everything okay at the venue?”
Din’s heart swells and he hopes he never takes your considerate nature for granted, “Totally fine.  Just a couple of kids who drank too much.  No trouble at all.” You smile, relieved.
Standing, Din holds out his hand, “Come now, pretty bird.  I made some promises tonight that I plan on fulfilling.”  Propping yourself up on your elbows, you find yourself face to face with Din’s crotch, and you can see the outline of his cock, semi-hard and ready for you. Having been fully worked up during the wedding, neither your nor Din’s want for the other has dampened over the past few hours apart. You hook two fingers into his dress pant pockets and pull him closer, then use that same hand to run over his crotch when it’s next to your face. Cupping him gently, you feel Din’s cock jump a little at your touch.  You lean in, nuzzling his dick against your cheek, mouth already salivating, and look up at Din with pleading eyes.  Din already wrecked though you’ve barely touched him, croaks, “Go on then, sweetheart.”
Eagerly, you undo his belt and pants, tugging his pants and boxers down in one go; Din’s cock springs free and slaps lightly against your lips causing you to moan and you feel yourself clenching down around nothing.  You will never get used to his size; no matter how many times you take him in your hand, your mouth, your cunt, you are always awed when you come face to face with Din’s leaking cock.  Wrapping one hand around the base and giving Din a few light strokes, you hold Din’s gaze with your bambi eyes, and alternate between tapping the swollen head on your tongue and giving it some light kitten licks.
“Bunny,” Din warns.
Giving Din one last look of innocence, you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before starting to rhythmically bob up and down his length.  With each pass, you take a little more of him, until your nose is pressed against the hairs on his groin and you hum in pride and satisfaction.   As your mouth vibrates around him, Din’s knees buckle slightly; growling, “Such a good mouth on you, baby,” as he places one hand gently on the back of your head.  Some days, Din likes it when you want him to fuck your throat, but tonight he’s content to have you do what you want with your warm mouth and tongue, his hand on your head only to affectionately pull on your hair the way you like.
As you feel Din’s light grip in your hair, you moan again. Hallowing your cheeks, you start to increase the pressure of your mouth, swirling your tongue on the underside of Din’s throbbing cock as you move your mouth up his length, and giving his tip a purposeful flick in your mouth every time you reach the peak.  You feel so good around him, Din can’t wait to touch you any longer.  He reaches over with his free hand and finds the slit of your dress, slipping his hand in and inching up your thighs until his fingers meet the wetness of your lace underwear and he starts stroking you over the fabric.  The steady pressure on your clit is beyond exquisite, and when the pleasure becomes too much, you gasp and suck Din’s cock deep down your throat a final time before coming off of him with a pop.
Din hauls you up by your underarms, and pulls you tight against him with one arm, mouth attacking yours. His other hand on your face, tenderly wiping away your spit and tears, even as his mouth ravages you.  He walks you backwards around the couch, mouth never leaving yours, until suddenly with no warning, he spins you around with unfathomable sped and bends you over the back of the couch, kicking open your legs in one smooth motion.  You feel your dress being flipped up over your back so that your entire backside is exposed.
“Pretty bird, how wet are you?” Din asks in a low voice from somewhere behind you.
Still breathless from having been maneuvered into this position without warning, you sigh, “I’m so wet, daddy.  Been dripping for you for hours, ever since I walked into that wedding.  Please, baby, I need you so bad.”
You know Din has knelt down behind you because the next time he speaks, you can feel his breath fan over your ass, “I don’t know, bun.  I think you could be wetter.”  You look over your shoulder and see Din smirking as he slides your panties down your legs, helping you step one foot out but leaving the black lacy scrap to dangle off the other ankle.  Using his thumbs, he spreads your folds, and blowing out a soft breath, purrs, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.  Need to taste you and get you soaking wet for my cock, okay, pretty bird?”
Even before hearing your moan of assent, Din dives into you like a man possessed.  His tongue, mouth and nose, all somehow working your hole, his face pushed so deep against your core that you have to widen your stance to accommodate his broad shoulders.  Din sucks and licks and bears down on you over and over as he rubs his entire face over your pussy; the wet sounds of him being drenched in your arousal muffled by how close he is pressed against you, and further drowned out by your whines of pleasure above him.
Din lifts himself away from your cunt only slightly so he can use two fingers to spread your wetness all over, even making a slick trail to your other hole, which he circles lightly a few times before returning to push his fingers all the way into your pussy.  You let out a wanton moan from the thick intrusion, “Yes, fuck daddy.  You feel so good, thank you for stretching this little slut out.”
Turned on by your dirty talk, Din speeds up his fingers and then moves underneath to suck on your clit, knowing that will push you over the edge.  Your wails are becoming more incoherent as you climb closer and closer to your climax, “Holy fu-, Din.  Din.  Din.  Please, give it to me.  Giv-Gi--Give your dirty whore what she needs.  Fuck.  Daddy. Daddy, please, please. I need it, nghhhhhh.”
Din roughly inserts a third finger and simultaneously starts flicking your clit with his hard tongue, and you’re gone.  You arch your back, shaking and grabbing onto the back of the couch with both hands so tightly for stability your knuckles white, letting loose one last long moan while coming.
Din fucks you through it with his fingers, his other hand rubbing your ass cheek soothingly, “Such a good girl, coming so pretty and hard for me.  Now I know you’re wet enough for me cause I have you running down my arm, baby girl.”
You slump over the back of the couch, still weak from your orgasm, when you feel Din stand and envelope your body with his, the length of his rock hard cock straining against your folds as he whispers hotly in your ear, “Is my little cumslut ready to take what I give her?”
Fuck if his degrading pet names don’t turn you on as much as his sweet ones; you buck back into his crotch and practically beg, “Don’t go easy on your filthy slut, okay?”  Din snarls back and notching himself at your entrance, his thrusts forward harshly, bottoming out in one motion.  You cry out from the stretch, but also the pleasure you feel from the slight pain of taking his entire thickness in one go.  Din doesn’t let you enjoy the feeling of fullness for long, but pulls back and starts driving into you at a punishing pace.
As Din ruts into you hard, you feel yourself being pushed further into the couch backing with each thrust, soon you no longer have proper footing on the ground; first you’re lifted up onto your tip toes, and eventually your feet leave the ground entirely so that you’re just thrown like a ragdoll, folded over the back of the couch.  The couch is digging into you hip bones and you’re sure to have bruises tomorrow, but you welcome the bite of pain and squeeze Din hard when thinking about him marking you in this way.
“Shit – pussy feels so good, bunny.  You like this, getting fucked hard?  Letting your daddy throw you around and fuck you until you can’t think?”
“Nnnnmmhhhhh”, you moan, face buried in the couch pillows.
“Think you do, you dirty slut.  Love fucking you like this too, I’m the only one who gets to use this pretty pussy like this, aren’t I?”
“Yes, daddy, yes!  All yours, pussy is all yours, do whatever you want with me.  Fuck me and use me like your little cumrag. Fu—Fuck, daddy. Fuck me. Fuck me.” You’re so cock drunk right now and head cloudy from overstimulation, you can barely string together words, but every dirty, degrading word that comes out of your mouth and Din’s is pushing you closer and closer to your next high. When you feel the thumb of Din’s hand that’s gripping your ass dip into your crack and start circling and pushing against your little back hole, you moan and clench down hard on Din’s cock.  “You like that, bun?  All your holes are mine, aren’t they?  You want me to fill up all your holes one day, like the whore you are?”  His other hand presses down on your clit, just as his thumb dips in pushing past the tight muscle of your virgin hole, and you come instantly without warning, loud and hard.  The suddenness of your orgasm has Din losing control of the chase for his own, and he pounds into you harder and faster while you’re still fluttering around his cock.  With an animalistic grunt, Din comes, nearly collapsing on top of you while he paints your insides white.  You stay like this, with Din on your back, panting until you both catch your breaths.  Turning your head slightly, you find Din’s lips with yours and kiss him lovingly until he slips out of you and sets you back down on the ground; still unsteady on your feet, you hold onto the couch while Din uses the lace panties that slipped off your foot while you were airborne to clean up your combined spend from between your legs.  Once he’s done, he turns you around gently and holds you up, tight against him, kissing you with reverence, “I think they would have kicked us out if we did that at the wedding, pretty bird.”
You giggle and play with the silver rings on his fingers that have somehow managed to stay on, “That or made us get married right then and there.”  You smile up at Din, teasingly.
“Would that be so bad?” Din says softly, then laughs uproariously at your stunned expression.
Din bends and hooks his arm underneath your knees, picking you up swiftly and carrying you in the directly of the bedroom as you shriek with laughter, “Not done with you yet, pretty girl.  Remember how I said I was going to be the one to take this dress off tonight?”
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alienatedtsuki · 6 months
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Dom!Naruto/Sub!Sasuke [Kinktober 2023 Part I]
It's Kinktober, baby! I am not creating anything but recommendations, so let's go. I want to start with one of my favourite tropes in the smut for this pairing, this being - Master/Pet | Dom!Naruto/Sub!Sasuke. 
Cumslut by pedosoka Naruto and Sasuke didn't show up for training, and Sakura and Ino go see if everything is okay with their precious Sasuke-kun. Or, Sakura, Ino, and Sai walk in on Sasuke, getting his back blown out by Naruto and his shadow clones. - You read this summary right. There is all I love: Sakura bashing, the use of shadow clones(I probably should add it to my "Oh, how useful are these shadow clones" post), and the Master/pet dymanic.  NaruSasu | Master Naruto | pet Sasuke | Sakura bashing | accidental voyeurism | orgy | Naruto uses Shadow Clones | Saying "I love you" is hot | Canon AU (3,237)
Sasuke and his sexual dream Naruto by Skyheaven @0skyheaven0 This is a fantastic trilogy of relationship development between our boys, where Naruto is top and Sasuke is bottom. They investigate the darker side of Naruto in the last fic with full-blown Dom!Naruto and Sub!Sasuke. They are deeply in love with each other, so Porn With Feelings. 
 Take my virginity away by Skyheaven @0skyheaven0 Growing up in a homophobic household, Sasuke never got to experience any romantic or sexual connection. Now that he's an adult, he's afraid no one would want a complete virgin like him. Through an app he finally meet someone who sparks his interest and agrees to rid Sasuke of his cursed virginity to give him the courage to start his real life, his sex life. Shock hits him though when on the other side of the door stands no one other than his old classmate and rival Naruto. - Sasuke is 26 years old, gay and virgin. He wants to get rid of his virginity, and fate gives him Naruto to be his first. As I mentioned earlier, this is NaruSasu only. There are mentions of the use of toys. Basically, this fic is quality first-time fanfic. (Consent is hot as hell.) NaruSasu | First time | light Dom/Sub | Cum eating | light Spanking | Fluff and Smut | Porn With Feelings | Modern AU (15,730)
Steal all that I am by Skyheaven @0skyheaven0 Three times that Naruto stole Sasuke's control over his own body, turning him into a horny, submissive, dirty mouth and three times Naruto stole Sasuke's heart, making him stronger, weaker and a whole lot happier. - It's a fantastic continuation of the first fic with a deep dive into their relationship with amazing smut (they delve deeper into their kinks). NaruSasu | moderate Dom/Sub | Cum eating | Spanking | Rimming | Dildos | Fluff and Smut | Porn With Feelings | Modern AU (12,953)
 Tonight I'm yours by Skyheaven @0skyheaven0 Sasuke is devastated from an explosive meet with his homophobic parents. Luckily, his boyfriend Naruto shows him his bag of toys to improve the mood. - Full-blown Dom!Naruto/Sub!Sasuke play, healthy BDSM relationship.  Naruto is so passionate in this role, and Sasuke submits so beautifully for details read the tags.  (I love the part where Sasuke is coming out, and this isn't a fairy tale but a harsh reality and how Naruto helps Sasuke to process his feelings. I will focus on these smut rec posts, mostly on smut reviews. I am sorry if I don't describe the plot that much.) NaruSasu | Dom/Sub | Rough Sex | Bondage | Face-Fucking | Nipple Play | Rimming | Sex Toys | Dildos | Size Kink | Spanking | Creampie | Fisting | Fluff and Smut | Porn With Feelings | Modern AU (15,202)
Enough by IvvyMoon (blue_jack) What lengths will Naruto go to in order to give Sasuke what he needs? - This author is a master, no pun intended, in writing Sub/Dom smut. This is just exceptional. There are so many complicated feelings in this session, but how full of passion this is... It's just a must-read for this smut section. Also, check out the Master/pet NOT finished fic Sasuke, My Pet. NaruSasu | Dom/Sub | public Blow Jobs | Sex Toys | Impact Play | Nipple Play | Spanking | Blindfolds | Porn With Feelings | Angst | Modern AU (11,345)
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welcome to my blog!
hi ♥ i'm kat. i like writing angst and making janky gifs. here's a gif of a scene that makes me vibrate from how pretty levi ackerman is uwu
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about me: 26, she/hers, currently a social work grad student but copes thru school with writing levi angst, third culture kid/abc, AuDHD, levi ackerman's sugar baby by day and his cumslut by night (✿◡‿◡)
STATUS: aaaaand back in school 🙄
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➼ before you follow, please check out these rules and disclaimers! :)
➼ about me!
➼ this blog posts and interacts with dark content!
➼ minors and ageless blogs DNI
➼ yes, i self-ship. yes, i am a reader insert fanfic writer. if this bothers you or you find it "cringe", then please do both of us a favor and block/unfollow
➼ current wips 💕:
➼ mafiaboss!levi x assassin!reader (mafia!au, pwp, longfic) ➼ tutor!levi x burnt out gifted kid!reader (high school au, longfic, sfw for obvi reasons) ➼ Loss Part 2 (levi x scout!reader, angst, hurt/comfort) ➼ levi x underground merc!reader (canonverse, angst, canon rewrite)
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➼ i would love to be friends with anyone that interacts with my blog, but i will not tolerate any mean girl, high school-esque cliquey behavior. i don't need my self-ship safe space to be cluttered with that and neither do you. let's just have a good time on this hellsite so we can forget irl for a while
➼ on the topic of triggers:
i (thankfully) don't have a lot of triggers, particularly in writing. however, the few that i have end up doing a lot of harm when ignored. unfortunately, they're not ones that can be tagged other than tw: emotional abuse, tw: gaslighting, tw: invalidation—but even then, topics or writing that feature these topics are not triggering what ends up being triggering are instances resembling these behaviors, particularly when it comes to public discourse. i will generally disengage from these types of conversations or interactions to protect myself, so if i go radio silent on you: this is the most likely reason why.
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some general helpful links:
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~~~~~
join my taglist!
Last updated: March 9, 2024
© humanitys-strongest-bamf & rydenkat | Do not repost or plagiarize my work. Do not translate or edit without my permission. Do not feed my work into AI. My work is currently posted exclusively on Wattpad, AO3 and Tumblr. Feel free to recommend my works on other social media platforms!
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beanlot · 2 years
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Imagine amab! Ellie trying to teach an inexperienced reader how to give her a blowjob 😳🥺, she wants to be careful and delicate, but reader's soft lips and doe eyes are testing her patience on not destroying reader's throat
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this whole amab!au has really shed light that you’re all cumsluts.
but anyway, let me set the scene. imagine ellie is quite experienced in this scenario, she’d had her fair share, she knows what she likes and what she doesn’t - but in terms of your sexual experiences, you’ve got nothing more than relying on what porn you’re into. and ellie is highkey the biggest, most consensual softie ever; she’s gonna be vigilant on how to touch you, and even the most vanilla elements of your relationship like what cuddles are your favourite or how you like your hand being held.
but eventually, you’ll get curious; you’d felt what ellie had waiting for you when your thighs would brush against hers. hell, you’d fucking seen the imprint when she’d wear those grey joggers she knows you like and start manspreading as she’d play video games - so it’s reasonable why you can’t help feeling just a little tempted when she’s led back in her chair, controller in hand and thighs parted.
she won’t think anything of it at first, because ellie isn’t exactly a sex machine. she’s just gonna think you need a little loving, a little of her sentimental attention since she’d been adhesive to her screen for hours now. she’ll ask if you’re okay when you sit between her legs, fingers delicate to shrewd around your palm and sensual enough to slew some hair behind your ear.
but it’s when you look up at her, stroking her abdomen innocently that she’ll look at you funny. and honestly, this might be a me thing, i’m under the impression ellie would get hard easily in this circumstance. think about it, she’s never even felt an inkling of the warmth of your hand below her waist, just the mere anticipatory thought is gonna be enough to get her lewd.
babe.
what’s up with you?
but ellie’s not stupid, she knows what’s up with you. and she’s more than compliant to give you a helping hand, joggers finding themselves clinging to her knees and cock recoiling from her boxers.
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and she’s considerate, at first.
but let me just - ellie’s dick would be veiny as hell, and particularly fucking intimidating to look at considering she’ll be all thick and aroused by how you look up at her like this. but she’s selfless, asking you if you want to touch it, that you don’t have to continue - but you insist, with those pristine doe eyes that she just can’t say no to.
ellie..
hm?
i don’t.. know..
and she’s always been your let me show you person, enshrouding your hand delicately with her streaked knuckles and cloaking the base of her cock with your fingers. of course, you might flinch, you didn’t expect her to be scorching hot from what you do to her; her hand guiding you up and down her erection, warmth of her palm leaving your hand when you’d gotten the hang of it.
she’s a breathy moaner, for sure. humming, sighing, jagged breaths - all that good shit to let you know you’re doing just fine whilst she strokes your cheek, occasionally dragging your bottom lip down. she won’t admit it, but she wants your opulent lips enveloped around her; when you look up at her, she can tell through the unimpeachable globes that you want just the same.
tongue out, baby.
that’s it, that’s a good girl.
you’ll start with the tip, letting her instruct you how to twirl your tongue so divinely around her - but fuck, she can’t help but daydream about what a showpiece you look like right now. on your knees, tongue caressing the head of her cock, eyes that flicker up with purity when she tells you to look at her. she’ll be satin against your tongue, a velvety smoothness that you just can’t help but wrap your lips around the tip and gently suck.
you’re made for this, i can fucking tell.
she’ll chuckle at how godly your mouth feels against her, encouraging you to take her just a little deeper when her fingers push your head down slightly, and you’ll taste the creaminess of her precum from how eager she’s getting. but realistically, it’s not gonna go super silky at first - you’re gonna make a few mistakes.
teeth, baby.
’m sorry.
that’s okay, you’re doing so good.
mmm praise kink things. ellie’s been your sweetheart, considerate and patient, up until now. she can’t help but just give in the primitive instinct when she sees her cock glisten with your spit and the little whines you emit when your head dips into her, her fingers cunning to grip at the roots of your hair when she feels her heartbeat catalysing and the throbbing of her cock.
and before you fucking know it, tears are blinding your vision when she starts to thrust into your mouth; the back of your throat assaulted with her tip along with the indecency of being used as her fleshlight. you won’t be able to move, only staying still to serve her personal needs - and after all, it’s kinda hot, tears glossing your cheeks and her hips tensing up at the mercy of cavernous pressure.
fuck, baby girl.
i’d like to think ellie’s messy as hell when she comes, eyes fluttering dreamily and forcing your head down into her with such animalism when she feels her seed spurt into your mouth. it’s bitter, whipping against your tongue as you whimper, trying to fucking swallow through how strenuous it is to breathe.
and when she looks down, her cum on your lips and your eyes glassy, she’ll apologise.
she just couldn’t help it.
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4izawas · 7 months
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♡┊ 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍.
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𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐘𝐎𝐔. | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨. [ 𝐬𝐟𝐰. | 𝟏.𝟏𝟑𝐤. ].
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: ‘lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones … and i will try to fix you.’
𝐭𝐰: soft satoru, sleepy satoru, he’s had a long week and all he wants is you okay, cuddling, mentions of being shirtless, fluffy and sticky sweet like when cotton candy is half-melted in your mouth, his hair’s grown out some so say hello to long-haired satoru, kissing, hand-holding.
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𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑! | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨. [ 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰. | 𝟔.𝟐𝟓𝐤. ].
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: "i'm boyfriend material!" he cries indignantly, offended despite the fact that he'd never kept a relationship for more than a few months out of sheer boredom, and you pause before looking him up and down. / "…mhmm."
𝐭𝐰: college au, fem reader, fuckboy satoru, protected sex (wrap it up cumsluts), jealousy, attempted hand-holding, brief nanami cameo, satoru gets hard attached and then is O.O when reader is like 'nah imma dip now', slight angst, unrequited love, previously established relationship (just not w gojo 💀💀 ), cheating ( by reader), bf sukuna.
𝐇𝐄’𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ( 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 ). | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐫. 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚. [ 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰. | 𝟑.𝟒𝟗𝐤. ].
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: His eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?
𝐭𝐰: concubine reader, demon king sukuna, sacrificial lamb x vicious monster trope, fem reader, manipulative reader, canon-typical violence, background character death, reader got a death grip on sukuna w the pussy ngl, breeding kink, fingering, sukuna has two cocks bc duh?, throne sex, cowgirl, no condoms, double penetration, accidental voyeurism, minor exhibitionism, creampies, biting, kissing, pregnancy mentions, murder, blood, gore, didn’t think i’d have to say this verbatim ( but after wasted summer ig i must ) but reader isn’t a good person.
𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓! | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐧. 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨. [ 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰. | 𝟑.𝟐𝟓𝐤. ].
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “I — Are you trying to blackmail me?” you ask in disbelief, staring at him with half-wide eyes as your brain tries to piece together the absolute audacity he’s expressing to you.
𝐭𝐰: once again reader is kinda stinky but not too much imo, fem reader, perv nanami, college au, professor nanami, threats of blackmail, age gap ( 20+ years, nanami in his forties & reader approaching mid-twenties ), power imbalance, nanami likes to get his freak on in his office, non-consensual recording during sex, non-consensual photography during sex.
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𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨. [ 𝐬𝐟𝐰. ].
“𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥, 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞.” | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨. [ 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰. ].
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candied-boys · 10 months
Text
🍯 Honey Cakes 🍯
Luke Randolph x fem! Reader
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Tags: merpeople au, lazy!Luke, happy!Luke, possessive!Luke, romance, picnics, cottagecore, finally the smut, happy ending
Part four
3,000 words
NSFW CONTENT - MORE TAGS BELOW
You won't miss anything by skipping this chapter
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Tags: Smut, smut, smut! mutual virginity loss, body exploration, nervous and awkward and cute, consent is sexy, panties were not a thing until very recently, fingering, oral female receiving, he has a knot but no knotting (yet), creampie because I'm a cumslut
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“Are the cakes not good today?”
You find yourself asking this more and more often over the last month.
“They're fine,” Luke answers, eyes closed where he lies on the picnic blanket beneath the hot sun drying out from the swim.
“You haven't been finishing them lately…”
“Not hungry,” comes the same cold excuse as yesterday.
“Luke, did I do something? Are you mad at me?” You've asked this half a dozen times too, but you always get the same answer.
“No.”
“Do you want me to go home now?”
You expect him to repeat himself, but the empty space hurts more than being told yes.
“Luke… what's wrong? Please just tell me…”
Hovering over him with watery eyes you plead for him to answer you, look at you, anything but silence.
You can't recall when he started being so distant, so distracted when you're together, and so much less affectionate. Was it gradual? Did it begin all at once? When did you have to start asking for a goodbye kiss instead of having to beg him to let you go home?
After nearly half a year together you've come to understand that Luke devotes himself to very little but does so with his whole being. It's clear that he would have stopped spending time with you long ago had this been merely a summer fling.
Or so you thought.
It cuts deep to think that the man who was so open with you all this time is now throwing up walls seemly bored, maybe even hoping you'll take a hint, make this easier on him and leave first.
Suddenly your vision is cut off, blinded by the sun above as you're flipped onto your back roughly.
“Fine! Y’ wanna know what's wrong?” he seethes, gaze trembling with anger like waves crashing on the shore.
“I'm crazy ‘bout y’! That's what's wrong! I want y’ to be mine and mine alone! I wanna keep y’ all to myself and never let y’ go! But I canna do that and I hate it!”
The venom in his words makes your body instinctively recoil, but the pain clouding his crystal eyes draws your heart closer. Cautiously wrapping your arms around the ones caging you to the ground, you cup his cheeks tenderly and press your forehead to his.
With his now equally watery gaze held by yours you whisper, “Luke, I am yours. I'm not going anywhere. I love you.”
Wide-eyed and rosy cheeked he stares down at you.
“Why are you so surprised? I wouldn't bake a bunch of treats, spend what's left of my wages on honey, and hike out here every day after work if I didn't want to be by your side day and night.”
“Yeah but… I'm…”
Cutting him off with a kiss you fill in the blank yourself, “Gentle, caring, dedicated, funny, sweet, relaxed, playful, strong, stubborn, brilliant, protective, sincere, affectionate, charming, and very attractive.”
“But that dunna mean nothin’ if we canna be together… I'm useless…”
“It's only for the winter,” you answer easily, tucking his fringe behind his ear to reveal those beautiful eyes in full.
“If you were a sailor or a soldier it would be no different. Couples are sometimes separated for years. I don't mind waiting a few months if it means I get to be with you again in spring. At least, if you think I'm worth waiting for too...”
His voice is hardly audible over the wind in the grass. “Are… y’ sure?”
Murmuring yes against his lips you keep him from further protest with a passionate kiss.
“Mine,” he mutters between breaths, his mouth slipping from yours and down your jaw. “I want y’ to be mine. Please…”
The heat in his gaze when he finally looks up tells you exactly what he means.
Biting your lip you ask timidly, “Is that… possible… for us? We're not exactly the same... species…”
“I think we could,” he answers low while his hands clench fistfuls of your still-damp chemise over and over.
“I've never… uh… you know…”
Stumbling over your words you glance away, but when you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye you feel relieved. His ears are pink and he looks every bit as nervous as you feel.
“Luke,” you call quietly, drawing his bashful attention back to you. “I know you'll be gentle. I trust you.”
With his usual endearing smile he kisses your cheek — a whispered thank you hidden in its midst — before he scoops you up and sits you on his lap.
Holding you close with an arm wrapped around your ribs he begins hunting for the sensitive spot on your neck. When he has you digging your nails into his skin he continues down.
The loose shoulders of your chemise slide off easily to reveal your chest to him. With the same cheeky grin he gave you the first day you met, he holds your gaze while he takes a nipple into the heat of his mouth.
You know that turning you into a flustered mess both turns him on and gives him the upper hand, but you can't help it. He's fondled them plenty, but never seen them bare and certainly never tasted them.
Tongue busy, his broad hands are free to roam your body. His left hand enjoys the softness of the other breast while the right traces up your inner thigh to tease places he has not yet dared to touch.
But, the nearer he gets the more he hesitates. Your body is different than his and nothing he's heard about satisfying mermaids seems to apply.
Breaking from your chest, he gazes up at you from beneath long lashes, eyes half lidded with lust yet full of tenderness. A little breathless and feeling very flushed, you lean in to lay your forehead against his again, waiting for him to say what those hazy emeralds can only hint at.
“Tell me what y’ like… where it feels good… show me how to touch y’ right…”
What it is about him that draws out sides of yourself you hardly knew existed, how he makes you feel so safe, or why it's so easy to open up to him you still haven't figured out — but something about him makes you put your fears aside and do things you never would otherwise.
So, still locked with his gaze you stroke the back of his hand and begin softly, “There's a little pearl here...”
His fingers trail beneath the hem of your chemise alongside yours as you guide him.
“It's very sensitive, and it always needs attention even if… we're together as one…”
A gentle nod against your forehead is his only answer as you lay your fingers atop his to teach him how to touch. Drawing small circles, varying the pressure, and so on, he quickly discovers what makes your eyelids flutter closed.
“Feel good?” he whispers after a while of watching you shiver in his lap.
“Mhm,” you hum, bottom lip between your teeth as you try to hold onto your composure.
His low tone does little to hide his growing desperation as he asks, “Y’re gettin’ slippery. Should I touch y’ somewhere else too?”
You sneak your hand into his and lead him through honey coated folds to your entrance before guiding a digit inside. One joint, then two until he's knuckle deep; his thick, calloused finger cautiously explores your plush, velvety walls.
It's not long before the arm wrapped around your middle is cinched tight to hold you steady. His cheek leans into your hair when your head falls onto his shoulder. You can't see it, but there's a gentle arc to his lips — one drawn out by the vulnerability you're showing him.
Somewhere in the haze of impending ecstasy, a single clear thought takes form, and you suddenly chirp, “Luke, wait!”
His touch instantly pauses. His eyes fearfully lock on yours.
Mumbling timidly you ask, “Can I... touch you too?
“Oh!” he breathes, clearly both surprised and relieved. “Y’ mean mine?”
Still biting your lip, you nod eagerly. You've been wondering since March if he even had one and if so where he could possibly be hiding it. So, you watch with curiosity as his swollen length suddenly pops up next to your thigh from a subtle grove between his hips.
From how much bigger he is in height and weight, the size itself isn't shocking. What catches your attention instead is how glossy it is — dripping with a silky essence similar to your own.
Noting your surprise he asks shyly, “Is it… different… than what y’ expected?”
“Uh, well, I've never seen one so I… uh… can't compare… but I've never heard of men being dewy like this,” you answer honestly, and draw your fingertips through the honey-like substance.
Gnawing at his bottom lip, he barely stifles a groan as you let your thumb slide up the thickly ribbed underside to his tip.
“It helps with friction… so the slick dunna get washed away underwater,” he explains after taking a shakey breath.
Humming with interest you wrap your fingers around his girth and let your fist slip down to the base where two little pear-shaped orbs lay beneath the skin on either side. His long hair falls from his face as his head tilts back in pleasure.
“Is it sensitive here?” your query, gliding the hard bulbs up and down under the skin.
“The knot? Yeah, o’ course.”
“Knot?” you tilt your head quizzically. “Is that where the seed is kept?”
“Nah — the sack is inside for most water creatures like us. Do humans not have knots? It y’know…” he pauses awkwardly. “Prevents the water from... I guess y' wouldna have to worry about that on land, huh?”
You simply shake your head, never having heard of such a thing, and continue teasing him until his cheeks turn pink and his breathing grows ragged. He's always been beautiful, yet something about watching him dissolve at your touch makes his features that much more exquisite — the furrow of his brow, the swell of his bitten lip, the colour of his flushed skin. It was hard enough to believe he's real. It's even harder to believe he's yours.
Burying his face in your neck, he takes up where he left off touching you as if to distract himself. His hot breath fans across your collarbone — every hitch and hiss telling you just how to grip his length.
But such intuitive signs become a challenge to track when he slips a second digit into your pulsing heat. Just keeping your hand stroking his cock is almost more than you can manage. Soon you can't stop your hips from moving of their own accord, bucking into his hand while he curls into that sweet spot on the front.
As he nudges you closer and closer to the edge, your arms instinctively wrap tight around his shoulders to let you stifle the cries seeping forth by hiding in the crook of his neck.
“Wanna hear y’r voice,” he rasps next to your ear, the pads of his fingers building a heat in your core like you've never managed on your own.
The need in his tone is what slashes the tethers keeping you from falling apart, but silence is all that escapes you — every muscle strung out as the orgasm rips through your body.
Luke cradles your shaking form to his chest, stroking your back until you're soothed of all tension. When you can finally lift your head, a fevered kiss is your reward.
His usually soft drawl is husky as he murmurs between kisses, “Do y’ know… how long I've wanted… to see y’ come undone in my arms like that… hear y’ cry… make y’ say my name?”
Still breathless you murmur back, “We can't be loud, Luke. Sound carries over water. If it echoes off the mountain the guards could hear.”
A darkness settles in his eyes when you deny him the thing he wants most of all, and the next second he's stripped you of your linen chemise and plunged you both into the water. Skin still hot from his attention, you squeal as you're enveloped by the cold, but you don't even have the chance to ask where he's taking you before he's swum over to the waterfall.
Ducking through the cascade and into the hidden alcove behind, he growls next to your ear, “No one’ll hear nothin’ from in here. I'll be the only one who gets to listen to y’r pretty voice. So, y’ gonna be a good girl this time and lemme hear?”
His near threatening tone has you burning up once more, and the cool waves lapping at your skin are hardly enough now that the last barrier between you has been left on the shore.
In the centre of the cavern he's the only thing you have to hold onto, and he knows it. Captive as you are, his hands are free to roam every inch of your bare skin just as he’s longed to.
You can't seem to help the whimpers and whines that drip from your lips when his rough fingertips trace down your neck and spine so gently. Nor can you restrain the little gasps at each new touch.
“Mmm, that's better.”
Maybe it's because you're already so sensitive, or maybe it's the satisfied hum that rolls through his chest — but he has your whole body on edge and desperate for more.
Pulling back to find his gaze, you're met with a faint green glow, the lust tainting his eyes all the more vibrant for his half-lidded expression.
Capturing his mouth with yours as if you might rein in his fervour, you instead find his kisses dipping lower and lower; across your collarbone, down the middle of your chest as he sinks into the water, and from your bellybutton to your core.
One hand on each thigh he wraps them over his shoulders, then takes a firm hold on your hips before drawing a stripe through your folds with his tongue.
The darkness of the cave swallows his figure beneath the surface, freeing you from the haunting glow of his eyes. Uninhibited by his demanding gaze, you let your body take complete control.
Your fingers find their way into his silky hair and grip harder with every shudder he inflicts while his strong hands hold you fast by the waist so he can rock you against his mouth until the tension snaps like whiplash.
You have to beg him to stop when he continues teasing you with his tongue long after you've fallen from heaven.
“Better than honey,” he purrs while licking his lips when he surfaces. “Y’ got one more for me?”
Already dizzy and overstimulated though you are, you nod your head. With that gentle smile you adore he kisses your crown and hugs you close under his chin, stroking your back and legs as you gradually relax in his arms.
“Here, turn ‘round,” he breathes against your hair, and gently cradles your back against his chest when you do.
“But I can't see you like this, Luke,” you pout and look over your shoulder.
His height lets him adjust you in his arms easily so that he can hold your gaze. Smiling down he kisses you tenderly.
“I'm right here. This way I can stay shallow and still hold y’ close. I dunna want y’ to get hurt.”
Returning his smile you nod and reach back to run your hand through his beautiful hair.
His one arm crossed over your chest to press your shoulders into him, the other guides his tip through your slick folds. It slips in painlessly and you're grateful for his patience in preparing you.
“Are you okay, Luke?” you ask up when his eyes immediately clamp shut and his head falls into the crook of your neck. “Am I hurting you?”
His shaggy locks graze your skin as he shakes his head languidly. “Just feels so good,” he pants. “to finally be this close… It's hard to resist…”
You know you don't want to hold back anymore, and truthfully you don't want him to either after months of just touching and kissing.
“I want you, Luke. I want all of you to be mine. Please, let yourself give in…’’
“Nuh-uh. I'd ruin y’ so bad y’ wouldna be walkin’ home for days,” he growls and nips your ear.
Feeling you tense in his arms he chuckles and kisses your temple. “So lemme take my time. I wanna enjoy this nice 'n slow, feel every shudder, know that it's me makin’ y’ feel good, hmm?”
Meeting his gaze over your shoulder you lean into his palm now cupping your cheek. With a gentle tilt to your chin he begins kissing you again, slow and deep. His other hand stays wound around your hips, locking you against his torso so he can keep his tail between your legs.
Starting with slow thrusts, his cock nudges deeper little by little. It doesn't take much before you can feel his tip pressing against your limits. You can't resist letting your head fall back on his shoulder when he starts hitting spots that have never been touched.
The way his fingers work your clit so gently while his ribbed underside brushes against your swollen walls over and over is like nothing you ever imagined your body could feel.
Forever and yet hardly a minute later, you're close to freefall again. With each roll of his hips into yours he's getting closer too. Face is buried in your neck, you hear Luke begging you softly.
“Wanna cum together… just wanna feel y’ hold me close… please…”
Slurring yes and crying his name, you give into the overwhelming pleasure and drag him with you into delirium. The feeling of his seed — hot, then smooth where it slips and slides with every thrust — keeps you riding the wave of ecstasy longer than any of the previous times.
Cradling you as close as possible while still buried in your warm depths he murmurs against your skin, “I love y’ so much I never wanna let y’ go.”
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Part Six
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berryychris · 2 years
Text
Bang Chan x Lee Know x Reader
masterlist
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Outsourcing by @setsugekka
Summary: the first time that the two of you spoke about the possibility of bringing a third party - a very special guest star - into the bedroom, it was over a bottle and a half of moscato, on your fifth anniversary, and with your back firmly planted to the shared mattress of your marital home.
Wreak Havoc by @matryosika
warnings — idol!au, make-up artist!reader, dirty talk, threesome, creampie, oral sex (m and f), rough sex, face slapping, humiliation, degradation, daddy kink, sir kink, spit/drool kink, slight knife play, deepthroating, overstimulation, unprotected sex, piv, use of pet names
West Side by @setsugekka
warnings: hierarchical/kitchen table poly relationship, threesome, dom!minho (!), piv, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f, m), face fucking, cum facial, cum eating, hair pulling, dirty talking (praise, humiliation, slight degradation), name calling/pet names (baby/babe, good girl, darling, love, cumslut), cock warming, color safewording, a lil possessiveness
Bunny by @youn9racha
warning: piv, threesome, strip tease, fellatio, slight frottage, dom!chan, dom!minho, discussion of free-use, pet names (bunny, baby girl, and others), reader is referred as girlfriend and uses she/her as her pronouns, cuckolding, lower cap intended, mentions of spit and corruption, unprotected double penetration (wrap before you tap), just outright filth
Truth or Dare by @youn9racha
Warning: as you couldn’t tell by the pairing; threesome (m/f/m), sub!chan, switch!lee know, switch!reader, everyone’s a perv, non idol au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, irresponsible drinking, mentions of masturbation, fingering, make outs
At last by @hyunsuks-beanie
Content Warnings: Threesome; anal penetration; pussy eating; nipple play
Somebody Else by @jiminbbyboy
genre: reader insert, angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex. mentions of pregnancy.
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star1117-archives · 2 years
Note
Yunho railing me against a wall while Mingi listens
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➵ Pairing : Yunho X Fem!Reader (ft. Mingi)
➵ Genre : Smut, College au + Crack
➵ W.C : 879
➵ Warnings : Voyeursism, Intentionally cringey dialogue, Dirty talk, Alcohol consumption, Degradation, Begging, Masturbation, Insinuated spanking, Overstimulation, One night stand, Yunho’s a dick, Teasing/Mocking, Insinuated MxM.
➵ A/N: Very sexy, Keisha Becky. Under 16’s DNI
© 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝟏𝟏𝟏𝟕-𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost or use my work in any way, shape or form.
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Two. Fucking. Hours.
Mingi turned over in his bed, groaning and throwing a pillow over his head as he heard the headboard hit the wall once again. He knew Yunho had good stamina, he was a sports major after all, but what the fuck?
Mingi started to hit his face with the pillow as your moans became high-pitched screams, obviously close to orgasming for like the millionth time that night. He could practically see your eyes rolling, head drooped as Yunho held you up. It was no secret that Yunho liked it in doggy, strong enough to support his one night stands when they couldn’t hold it anymore. All that Mingi hoped was the next slut Yunho brings home isn’t as loud as your ass.
He heard the low growl of Yunho’s voice through the thin ass walls as he spoke to you sensually, probably overstimulating you even more than all these rounds have.
“Come on bitch, come all over my cock. We both know you’re just my dirty little cumslut.”
Mingi cringed and got up when a small ‘yes Daddy’ left your mouth, giving up on sleep and walking to his kitchen. Why the fuck he could still hear you guys from there was beyond him, and he was starting to regret buying a studio flat next to his constantly-horny best friend. He quickly popped the cap off a beer, sitting back onto his bed and shrugging the boxers he had on off of him. Fuck it, free live porn. Not like he’s got anything better to do, and by the looks of it, he ain’t getting any sleep tonight anyways.
“Whining like a bitch in heat, how pathetic of you.”
Mingi closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself into that situation, stroking his dick up and down slowly, teasingly. His thumb teased his slit, the pleasure overwhelming any disgust he had from before. He took a big gulp of beer and smiled lazily when it burned his throat slightly.
A slap sounded through the wall and Mingi bit his lip, head hitting the bed frame as he winced, trying to keep his moans at bay. The last thing he needed was you guys hearing him. But fuck, that was hot.
“Y-Yunho! Please!”
“Please what, whore? Fucking say it.”
Mingi let out a shaky breath, speeding up his pace. Fuck, he wished it was him. He wanted it so bad.
“W-ant it! Wanna come!”
Sweat was starting to form at his temples, hair slightly sticking down onto his forehead. A hiss left his mouth and he swore he heard Yunho chuckle.
“Then do it you stupid slut, come all over Daddy’s fat cock.”
Shit, he was so close. He was so close he could feel it, he could practically reach his hands out and touch it. He was so close he didn’t even hear his own moans.
“D-Daddy!”
He heard you fall down onto the soft mattress as Yunho let go of you, holding you down as you writhed and screamed with pleasure, hips snapping into you at a faster pace. He eventually emptied himself into the condom, tying it and tossing it into the bin. Spent and tired you tried to lay down on the pillows, but Yunho tapped your cheek.
“Dressed and out, I told you the rules.”
Rolling your eyes you shakily stood up, barely able to walk as you collected your clothes.
“Such a gentleman.”
Yunho shrugged and threw himself back into the pillows, gesturing to the door.
“You can see yourself out, Keisha.”
You furrowed your eyebrows as you pulled your dress back on.
“My name’s.. Y/N.”
Yunho looked up in surprise, tapping his chin before breaking into a smile.
“Oh shit yeah, Keisha’s the one with the fat ass from last week.”
Your anger boiled to the surface and you hit Yunho square in the chest with your handbag.
“You son of a bitch!”
Unfazed, Yunho waved you away, taking his phone out.
“See you later, Babygirl.”
“Like fuck you will!”
Yunho chuckled as you stumbled to the door, struggling until you reached it and slammed it shut. Instantly he turned to the wall, the little moans Mingi was making now noticeable. He knocked on the paper-thin walls and called out to him.
“You good in there pervert?”
Mingi quickly stopped his actions, eyes wide as he hit the wall. Yunho let out a loud laugh, leaning on his arms now.
“How the fuck did you know?!”
“I’m surprised you held out that long bro, didn’t she sound pretty? And wet too..”
Mingi winced, mouth turning up in disgust.
“You filthy motherfucker. Suck a dick.”
Yunho’s lips curved up into a smirk.
“Game, yours free right now or you still beating it?”
Mingi smirked as well, starting to move his hands again.
“Come help me Daddy.”
Yunho groaned and Mingi cackled, imitating you by moaning lewdly. Annoyed, Yunho hit the wall, startling Mingi slightly.
“Fuck you Mingi.”
“If you insist, but I bet I could top you any day.”
Mingi heard the creak of Yunho’s bed, him standing up and leaning against the wall.
“Bet?”
Mingi scoffed and finished his beer, adrenaline and alcohol fuelling his decisions and his bold words.
“Bet, bitch boy.”
“Unlock the door then, I’m coming over.”
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@agustd-essert @hyuckilstan @a-soft-hornytiny @nyghtwolff-1117 @artemis-in-your-area @violetwinters @katelynnsqueendom @mxrksbxtch @yunhobabygurl @midnightbluesnow7 @itbecina @hwaluvvu @ccarpc @anpanseok @yunhosprettyhand
Apply for the taglists here -> ꕥ༉‧₊˚.
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