#cw: drunk driver

[deservingporcupine]

My father-in-law died this morning. Shocked. Sad.

I hate the out of the blue thing and I hate the not out of the blue thing and I’m just not a fan in general.

#tw death #cw death #personal #he was on his way to work and was hit head on by a drunk driver #I’m so tired and my head hurts from the crying #this really sucks guys

[cloudzoro]

Kink Discovery | jjk ♡

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

individual reaction/headcanon scenarios on kink discovery with jjk characters!

reaction/headcanon requests for jjk, one piece, haikyuu, fmab & death note (male & female characters) are OPEN!

op vers | hq vers | masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

genre: smut (minors dni)

characters included: choso, nanami, gojo, shoko, geto, toji, utahime, yuki

cw: fem!reader, desperate loser choso <3, low-key mean!dom yuki, mentions of cheating (but no actual cheating), semi-public sex (car), crying, unprotected sex, pregnancy mention, filming sex, lots of dirty talk, manhandling, lots and lots of cunnilingus.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Choso Kamo - high heels

He'd never put much thought into your footwear, but as he watches you getting ready to leave for a girls' night out, his cock twitches with every clack of your brand-new heels against the floorboards.

After you leave, he waits patiently for you to get back, trying not to give in to his sinful thoughts until you come back to help him out. You walk back through the door around one, and being the designated driver, you're not drunk. Choso greets you in the entryway, all but pouncing on you as soon as you close the door behind you.

“I missed you so much,” he says between kisses. His hands come to grip your ass as he walks you back into the apartment and the bedroom. He fiddles with the back of your dress for a few seconds before succeeding in tugging the zipper down and sliding the fabric down your body. He groans into your mouth when he feels that you went braless. You push him to sit down on the bed, and he obliges, leaning back on his hands as he watches you slide your panties down your legs. However, he suddenly sits up and protests when you go to kick off your shoes. “Please don't take them off,” he says, embarrassedly flushing red.

You listen, keeping the heels on, but with the added knowledge of Choso's newfound kink, you can't help but tease him. You lift your foot and press the front of your shoe against his crotch. He whines and rolls his hips upwards towards your foot, and you can't help but laugh a little.

“Baby, please stop teasing me. Just c'mere and let me fuck you,” he whines, still rutting his hips against the sole of your new heels. “wanna feel the heels digging into my back when I fuck you good.”

Kento Nanami - mirror sex

He doesn't notice the big mirror in your bedroom has such a good view of the bed until one sweaty cum-filled night when he has you on fours in front of him. Your moans fill the room as his cock thrusts into you, filling you up the way only he can. Every part of your body reacts to his touch as he slowly takes you apart and puts you back together over and over again. 

Kento doesn't mind the view of fucking you from behind; the arch of your pretty back and the way your ass smacks against his hips are more than enough visual stimulation for him, but when he looks up in front of him and notices the reflection of your face in the mirror he's mesmerised. There's something different about seeing your face overcome with ecstasy because of him. A hand tangles in your hair and pulls you up to his chest. 

“Look at you, sweetheart, you look so fucking pretty”, he coos. You force your eyes to focus as much as you can while his cock is inside you. You look a mess. Hair completely dishevelled, drool smudging your lipstick, neck and chest covered in bites and hickies. Yet, Kento still thinks you're pretty. “so beautiful.” 

You make eye contact with him through the mirror, and he smiles at you before picking up his pace again, almost sending you over the edge of bed. 

“keep your eyes open, baby. Keep looking at me.” 

Satoru Gojo - role-playing

"What would your friends think if they knew you begged your Uber driver to pull over and fuck you, hm? isn't that embarrassing?” Satoru, your Uber driver, laughs as you bounce on his cock in the back seat of his car. There's not much room, so you're grinding more than bouncing, but the way he feels inside you has your eyes rolling. “Such a desperate little slut aren't you?”

You try to deny it, but you're cut off when he rolls his hips in tandem with yours, finally fucking you back. Moans leave your mouth as he grabs your hips, keeping you in place so he can buck up into you. It feels so wrong, so dirty. Satoru knows he shouldn't be doing this. That fucking you could get him fired, but your pussy feels so good around him that he doesn't even care. You whine into his neck as you cling to his shoulders.

“Am I fucking you too good, pretty girl? Are you close?” he asks. He's good at keeping his composure, but you have him so close to breaking. You nod into his skin, pressing a tender kiss at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He slides his hand between your bodies to add extra stimulation. “What about your dumbass boyfriend? What will he think when he finds out you're giving this sweet pussy to another man” You whimper at his words, you can practically taste your orgasm.

“He's not dumb”, you defend, and the man beneath you grins, pulling you into a messy kiss and sending you both over the edge. When you've finally calmed down, slumped against his chest, Satoru kisses your forehead softly.

“It was cute of you to defend me like that”, he says, laughing, and you swat at his hands as they come up to cup your cheeks. “Let's get takeout on the way home.”

Shoko Ieri - dacryphilia

You're sitting on the sofa's edge and leaning against the back. Your pyjama top is pushed up to expose your chest, and your shorts are long forgotten on the floor.

Your wife, Shoko, is between your legs, using her fingers to bring you to your second orgasm. You've both had a bad day, and there's nothing like a good orgasm to relieve stress. Shoko is always ready to take care of you. Her tongue flicks at your clit as her fingers curve inside your cunt. You're quick to cum, sensitive to her touch. She stays on her knees, licking you through your high. She stays there until you physically push her head back.

When she lifts her head to look at your face, her heart clenches. Your eyes are welling with tears, the intensity of your orgasm almost too much for you. Shoko kisses your thighs before diving back into your pussy, shoving her tongue inside you. She's desperate to make the tears I'm your eyes fall, physical proof of how good she fucks you.

“give me one more, baby,” she says, pulling away from between your legs to thrust three fingers inside your pussy. “let me make it all feel better.”

You can't help but feel slightly guilty; she's had a rough day at work too, and you want a turn to take care of her, but it seems she's entirely focused on working your body to exhaustion. Her tongue works on your clit as her fingers press against the spot inside you that almost pushes you over the edge.

“Shoko, baby, I'm so close,” you whine, back arching from the sofa. She moans against your pussy, and your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Shoko looks up at you, watching you clench your eyes shut, forcing the tears out. She feels accomplished. The knowledge that she eats pussy so good she can bring you to tears feels her pride.

When you start to catch your breath again, Shoko leans up towards your face, kissing your tear tracks. She then presses a kiss to your lips.

“You're so beautiful, baby.”

Suguru Geto - breeding

You were usually insistent on him Suguru wearing a condom, but now that you've made it clear you reciprocate his want for kids, he's been obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant. Whenever he can get his hands on you, he tries to seduce you into bed so he can pump a load of cum inside you. 

“Fuck, baby. I'm gonna fill you up so good,” he groans, thrusting into you. You're on your hands and knees with a pillow stuffed beneath your hips to keep you comfortably in position. Each thrust of his hips causes your clit to rub against the fabric of the pillow. He has one hand on the back of your head, keeping you face down, ass up, and one hand holding your hip in a bruising grip.

You moan his name into the sheets below you as his thrust gets harsher and more aggressive. He coos dirty talk into your ear; he tells you how pretty you'd look pregnant, how he can't wait to make you a mother. His words have you desperately clenching around him, teetering on the edge of your orgasm.

“That's it, baby, keep squeezing me like that, and I'll fill you up just like you want me to” " he says, rhythm faltering as he approaches his orgasm. Yours hits first, and it is so strong that you bite the sheets beneath you to silence the noises you make. Suguru follows soon after, filling your pussy with cum and your heart with a promise.

Toji Fushiguro - dry humping/clothed

Toji has you on his lap, grinding on him as he sucks on the skin of your neck, making sure he leaves a nice fresh mark. His mark. The two of you had just returned from a date, and you were still wearing your pretty outfit. His hands slide up under your skirt, and just as he's about to tear your panties off, he hesitates. You look good enough to eat, and he wants to look at you longer. His hands stay planted on your thighs. Instead of tearing off your clothes, he leans back, using his strength to adjust you so you're sitting directly over his hard cock.

“Just keep grinding on it, baby”, he whispers as you start to roll your hips. He has a shit-eating grin on his face as he lazily watches you dry-humping his lap. The friction feels good, and he gets to look at you all dolled up for him. He also realises he likes the teasing aspect of it. He knows you want him to put you on your back and stuff his fat cock in your whole, but instead, he's making you work for your orgasm.

“Toji,” you begin, embarrassed. You're utterly humiliated at the fact he's about to make cum with your clothes still on. He's still smirking, enjoying your reactions. Your legs are getting tired, and you don't want to deal with the teasing you'll get if you ask Toji to take over. Unfortunately, you don't have to finish your sentence; Toji understands your body more than anyone else. He doesn't need your pussy clenching around his cock to know when you're close.

“You need a little help, baby?” he asks with fake sympathy. When you finally give in and nod, his hands settle on your hips, helping you keep the pace as you both near your climaxes.

“I'm gonna cum” You whine. You hear him mutter ‘me too’ under his breath as he helps you move your hips faster against his. The friction causes your orgasm to hit you hard and claw at Toji's back as you try to keep your hips moving as much as you can. Toji cums almost at the same time as you, and, by the time you're done, both of you sit with sticky wet underwear, and Toji thinks you two should do this more often.

Utahime Iori - filming

While scrolling through her camera roll, Utahime comes across a video you two had taken after one too many drinks of the two of you sloppily making out. Utahime can't help the tingling feeling in her lower stomach as she watches the video. She is so entranced by it that she doesn't even realise you are walking up behind her and leaning over her shoulder to see what she is looking at.

“That's hot” is all you have to say, and she jumps out of her seat, turning to look at you. She's adorably flustered but quickly regains her composure. “We should make another one,” you say, smiling at her, and she immediately grabs your hand to drag you to the bedroom.

Despite how flustered she initially was, she quickly slips into a more authoritative role in the bedroom. She holds her phone in her hand, camera pointed at you as you strip for her. When you pull off your shirt, Utahime films herself playing with your tits.

“You're so fucking pretty,” she says, dragging her nails gently down your stomach to your trousers. She unbuttons your trousers and, with your help, pulls them down your legs along with your underwear. She raises her hand to your face and presses her fingers against your lips. You open your mouth and let her fingers press against your tongue. “That's it, pretty girl. Suck on my fingers.”

You oblige happily, exaggerating slightly for the camera. When she's satisfied with your work, she moves her slick fingers to your cunt and pushes her fingers in. She zooms the camera in, focusing on the way your pussy sucks in her fingers. She moves her thumb up to play with your clit, to add stimulation and push you over the edge. When you cum she moves the camera focus from your pussy to your face. She thinks there's nothing more beautiful than your face when you cum. When you come back down, she shuts off the camera and climbs over you.

“I can't wait to watch that back later.”

Yuki Tsumuko - manhandling

On your first date with Yuki, you had told her that no one had ever really made you cum. You can get there, but none of your previous partners have been able to. She makes a comment about her stroke game, and when you laugh, she takes it extremely personally. Yuki is not one to back down from a challenge. She takes you back to her place, barely making it through the front door before pressing her lips to yours, inviting you to her bedroom.

She uses her strength to manhandle you into the perfect position to take her strap. You're pliant, allowing yourself to be dragged by her, and it makes her growl under her breath as she pushes the tip of her strap into you.

“dirty fucking girl, lettin’ me ruin this pretty pussy on the first date.”

You whine as she bottoms out inside you. She waits, holding you still so you can't attempt to fuck yourself on her cock. It isn't until you're on the verge of begging that she pulls back slowly and thrusts back in. The steady pace of her hips and the angle of her thrusts have you shaking beneath her. A strong arm wraps around your torso, pulling you upright.

“With the way you're letting me do what I want with you, I'd think I proved myself right, huh?” she says. You nod, and she laughs in your ear, hips not stopping as she works you closer and closer to an orgasm. “You like when I use my strength? Like when I bend you over like this?” she asks, releasing her hold on you to push you back down. She might enjoy the power trip a little too much. She's drunk on the power her physicality gives her over you as she harshly thrusts into you.

You cum with a scream of her name, and she, despite all her dirty talk, is soft with you as you recover from your first orgasm. Her strong arms cradling you instead of manhandling you. Yuki thinks she may have found something worth waiting around for in you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

likes and reblogs are massively appreciated

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso x reader #choso smut #kento nanami smut #nanami smut #nanami x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x reader smut #shoko smut #shoko x reader #utahime x reader #utahime smut #yuki tsukumo x reader #yuki tsukumo smut #☁️.jjk #☁️.smut

[cookiescribble]

Take Me Home

A/N: fun fact, I wrote this entire thing while i was sobering up after getting way too drunk at a friend's party. mod ghost can attest to this. - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend comes home drunk after girls’ night, and he helps take care of her while politely turning down her advances. (based on 7x16)

CW: mentions of alcohol and sex

~~~

Spencer was all too happy to take care of his godson. He didn’t even need a reason. So when JJ said they were having girls’ night, he really didn’t mind babysitting. 

The girls came back late. Like, middle-of-the-night-into-early-morning late. 

JJ unlocked the door and came into the house, trying to be as quiet as she could be so she didn’t wake anyone up. She thanked Spencer for babysitting. 

“I really appreciate you watching my baby… and now you have to take care of your own baby” she snickered. 

Spencer gave her a confused look until he saw his girlfriend stumbling in behind her. She gave him a big smile before tripping right into his arms. He stood her up as she continued giggling, trying to be quiet so she didn’t wake up the house. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” She kept giggling and wrapped her arms around him, mostly to hold herself up, but also because she was happy to see him. 

JJ patted Spencer on the shoulder. “She fell in the bathroom a couple hours ago. Good luck.” 

He took a deep breath and gave JJ a little smile before escorting his girlfriend out the door and into his car. As he was buckling her in, she pulled on his collar a little and said, “you look extra nice tonight, is this a new outfit?”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, shutting the door and getting in the driver's seat. “It’s the same outfit I was in when you left 8 hours ago.” He started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. 

She fidgeted in the seat a little as she looked at him. “No, I don’t remember you looking this good when I left…” she reached her hand out to place it on his thigh, smiling mischievously at him. 

He cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the road. “That’s the alcohol talking. Did you know studies have shown that people who have consumed a moderate amount of alcohol find the faces of members of the opposite sex 25% more attractive than their sober counterparts?” He glanced at her again for a moment before adding, “and you’ve definitely consumed more than a moderate amount of alcohol, so you’re basically looking through rose-tinted glasses right now.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s not the alcohol. You’re just hot.” She continued to stroke along his thigh before he reached down and placed her hand in her lap, giving it a little squeeze before he let it go. 

“You guys were out awfully late tonight. You know we have to go out in the morning, right?” He asked as he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment. He got out of the car before opening the passenger door and helping his girlfriend out of her seat and towards the apartment. 

She waved him off, saying “it’ll be fine, I’ll be up and ready in time.” She let him lead her towards their front door, smiling when she felt his hands around her waist. 

When they were in the apartment and Spencer closed the door behind them, her hands were all over him. She stood on her tiptoes to give him sloppy kisses on the lips. He had to keep his hands on her so she wouldn’t fall over. “Baby…” she started, her hands moving under his shirt. 

He took her hands and pulled them away, despite her pout of protest. “Sweetie, not tonight,” he said. 

She pouted more. “Why not? I can’t be handsy with my boyfriend? We’ve been dating a long time, you know.”

“4 years, 3 months, 22 days” he responded instinctually. “But, you’re too drunk right now. We can’t do this when you’re this drunk.”

She crossed her arms. “I am NOT drunk.” She said definitively, as if that would convince him. 

He smiled and shook his head, crossing his arms. “Okay. Let’s assume that’s true.” He took his hands off her waist so she could stand on her own, pointing at the end of the hall. “Walk to the end of the hall and back.”

She huffed a bit before stumbling down the hallway and back. “See, I’m fine!”

He stifled a laugh. “I would hardly call that walking.” She rolled her eyes at him while he continued talking. “Stand on one foot.”

She hesitated for a moment before lifting one of her legs up, immediately falling into him. When he gave her a smug look, she pointed at him and said, “Hey, in my defense, I can’t stand on one foot when I’m sober, either.”

He laughed and nodded. “Well, that’s true. I’ll give you that. You’re just clumsy.” He held her by the waist again. “Can you count backwards from 1,000?”

She furrowed her brows. “Are you serious right now? Would you really rather give me a sobriety test than have sex with me tonight?”

He kissed her on the forehead before guiding her towards their bedroom. “Yes. It was more for my own amusement than anything else.” He sat her down on the bed before looking through the drawers for her pajamas. “You can’t even stand on your own right now. What did you expect?”

She huffed before responding. “I expected a boyfriend who would be happy to see me.”

He shook his head at her theatrics before handing her pajamas over to her. “When did I say I wasn’t happy to see you? I’m always happy to see you.”

She crossed her arms, not moving. “You’re not acting like it. And you know you’re not a cop, right? I don’t think FBI agents usually give tests like that.”

He laughed. “I know. I was merely demonstrating your inebriation through a common field sobriety test.” He took the pajamas back from her and placed them on the bed. “I could never take advantage of you like that. I can help you with your nighttime routine, though.”

She made a face like she wanted to be mad at him, but she couldn’t be. “You know, most guys would love that they could get their drunk girlfriend into bed this easily.” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. I don’t need to, though. And you’re way too drunk to consent.” He stood her up and brought her clothes to the bathroom. “How would that be enjoyable, anyway? You can barely even think straight; I would just be worrying about you the whole time.” He put some toothpaste on her toothbrush and handed it to her. “And, with the numbing effects of alcohol, you wouldn’t enjoy it that much either; you’d barely be able to feel anything.”

She looked at him for a moment before taking the toothbrush and starting to brush her teeth. “I guess you’re right… you know, sometimes I hate when you’re right.” 

He laughed, hugging her close to him while she finished brushing her teeth. “I know. But it’s okay, I’m still here, sweetheart.” He swayed her back and forth a bit, as if he was calming down a fussy baby. 

She rinsed her mouth after she brushed her teeth, looking at their reflection in the mirror. She could see how tired she looked. “… Thank you. I’m happy you’re here.”

He kissed the top of her head and moved her so she could hop up onto the sink and he could help take her makeup off. He washed her face and smiled when she closed her eyes as he massaged the soap into her skin. “Comfortable?” 

“Mmm…” she mumbled, the circular motion of his hands on her face starting to lull her to sleep. 

He chuckled, gently patting her face dry with a towel when he was done. He helped her off the counter and started to help change her clothes. 

When he took her shirt off, she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. He just laughed and helped her into her pajamas. “Yes, you look great, but no, I’m not changing my mind.”

She sighed and pouted a bit more. “You’re no fun…” she said before yawning. Without even looking at him, she said, “wipe the smug look off of your face; I know I’m tired, that doesn’t mean I agree with your decision.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re not even looking at me.” But he was grinning, and they’ve been together long enough that she knew exactly what face he’d be making. 

“I know you have that I-told-you-so look on your face. I don’t need to look at you to know that.” She turned to him, confirming what she already knew. “Let’s just go to bed.”

He nodded and held her as he guided her back to the bedroom. He lifted the covers so she could get under them before turning off the light and getting under the covers with her. He turned to her and kissed her cheek a few times. 

He could tell she was still upset. He held her in his arms and let her rest her head on his chest. “I know you’re all moody from the alcohol, but I think you’ll thank me later.” 

She grumbled and crossed her arms. “You think I’m moody? Is that why you’re being so mean to me?”

He gave her a confused look. “How am I being mean to you? Did I say something wrong?” He always struggled with social interaction, so he was worried something he said had come across the wrong way. 

She huffed. “It feels like you don’t even like me tonight. All you’ve done is push me away. I was so happy to see you and I couldn’t wait to get home and be with you and you don’t even care.”

“Honey…” he started before pulling her on top of him and wrapping his arms around her waist; he knew it was her favorite way to cuddle, so he figured it could help while she was being overdramatic. “I’m so happy to see you. The only reason I’ve been pushing you away is because I know the effects of alcohol on the human brain and how it impairs judgment. And I know we’ve been together a long time and you say it doesn’t matter, but it matters to me.”

She looked at him for a moment and sighed quietly, realizing how dramatic she was sounding. “I guess I’m using my emotional brain while you’re using your logical brain, so it made me feel like you didn’t care.”

He kissed her forehead and hugged her closer to him. “I do care. I love you.” He kissed her cheek to try to get the point across. “If it helps, you being all over me has made the decision a little… difficult.” He blushed lightly and shifted his position a little. 

She giggled and nudged her nose into his. “It helps a little. I’m glad I had at least a little bit of an effect on you.” She yawned and buried her face into his chest. “That’s… all I needed to hear, I guess.”

He stroked her hair as he saw her close her eyes. “Get some sleep, sweetie. I already know you’re gonna be cranky when we go out tomorrow. You should at least get a little sleep. 

She groaned, but she was too tired to argue with him. Besides, he was right. Like he always was. 

…

She wasn’t the only one who was cranky the next day. 

All the girls were so hungover, they could barely tolerate being there. And Spencer’s enthusiasm was only making it worse. 

“Why are you yelling?”

“Make him stop…”

Derek laughed and asked, “What did you guys drink last night.”

“The green fairy…” Penelope answered, groaning. 

Derek laughed again, pointing to Spencer and his girlfriend. “Well, you two must’ve had fun when you got home.”

She grumbled in response, making Derek laugh again. “No?”

“He made me take a sobriety test.” She rolled her eyes, but her sunglasses blocked her eyes from being seen. 

Derek raised his eyebrows, looking at Spencer. “Seriously?” He looked back at her. “Did you pass?”

She scoffed, throwing her hands up a little. “No! I was wasted!”

Spencer laughed and hugged her from behind. “It’s true. It was pretty amusing, though.”

“Man, she must’ve been thrilled about that,” Derek answered sarcastically. 

She sighed, leaning into Spencer a little. “At least he made me breakfast. He did that right.”

Spencer rested his head on her shoulder. “I did everything right. You just don’t want to admit it.” He grinned, sounding a little smug. 

She looked at him pointedly, leaning up a little to speak quietly in his ear, so only he could hear her. “Hey, if you keep acting like that, we’re not doing anything tonight either.”

He laughed and responded softly. “You know you don’t mean that.”

She grumbled. “Okay, fine. But can you at least stop being so smug? It’s making me even crankier than I am from the hangover.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Okay, okay. Deal.”

Everyone chatted casually for a bit before shifting their focus on the race, eagerly awaiting the end of it.

#also yes i did indeed google drunk facts and included some of them here #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfiction #mod angel

[theannoyingknowitall]

Turns out I could have died yesterday

#at the bus stop i switch buses a drunk driver rammed into people. 5 dead at this point. i stood in the same place an hour earlier #holy shit #that feels scary #tw death #cw death #tw alcohol

[pyreshe]

I also think about the sentiment here a LOT in reference to what livvy would do to the drunk driver who left her father for dead if she ever found him.,,

#there is a chance. however small. that if vincent had gotten immediate help he could have lived #but the driver who flipped his car was way more interested in avoiding consequences #i just think. him begging for mercy as a young teenaged girl emerges from flame with fury in her eyes #he tells her that he will turn himself in. that he will pay her. that he'll do and give her anything she wants if only she spares him #but the flames only grow higher and hotter and livvy hisses that she wants her father. wanted the years she lost without him at her side #and he knows that there is nothing. absolutely nothing. that can save him now #✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: ooc / [mothman vc] take me home country roads #drunk driving cw #car accident cw #parental death cw

[hiddenlife-manager]

Lando Norris x fem reader

cw… Oral, story ish, vagina, sex, condom, cumming in condom, aftercare, clit rubbing, slightly cocky lando, fuck buddies, and more

notepad… HAPPY NEW YEARS well kind of. It isn’t New years yet to me. I’m on EST but it is about to be in like five hours. I wrote this quickly as a thank you to all who support me. I know I have disappeared but I have a post coming up for that.

In a room full of absolute strangers, you were sitting in a corner, sipping some of the complimentary wine. The party was full of rich people flaunting their money, and here you were drinking wine and enjoying small talk. A party full of Formula One drivers all enjoyed each other's company for a good year of racing. Full of people congratulating the champion, Max Verstappen. Yet you were just a measly mechanic, someone who worked on the cars whenever the drivers worked out. You worked for Williams, a considerably smaller team but a good one.

You knew all the drivers by memory; it was expected, but you never worked during the days of racing. You were stuck in the garage on boring days, and here you are bored talking to millionaires. You were not like them; you couldn't understand them. So you got up and escaped to a hallway in a corner. You slid to the floor and continued to drink your glass of free wine.

Suddenly, a man tripped over your legs, and you set the wine glass down and looked at who it was. Lando Norris, you took a deep breath.

"Sorry about that." You said this to him and sighed. "I would offer you a hand, but I'm on the floor already." He chuckled and nodded.

"It is fine." He fixed himself up and looked at you. "Took my spot, I see." He let out another laugh and sat up, staring at you. "Getting away from the rich people I see." You nodded and sipped your wine. "If I wasn't like them, I would do the same, but I got away from them for another reason."

"Why is that?" You raised the glass up to your lips and tilted your head, looking at him.

"Everyone is comparing themselves and boasting about their skills. I like doing that, don't get me wrong, but I am too drunk to deal with it. Don't tell anyone that, though I stated I didn't like alcohol before." You chuckled, looking down at your hands, and shrugged.

"Your secret is kept with me."

You were on his hotel bed, kissing him as you began to unbutton his shirt. You two were desperate for each other. Who would have known you and one of the most popular stars in the grid were about to have sex.

"This is kept between us." You cried out as he bit your neck, sucking on it. He groaned as he removed his expensive pants and threw away his belt, and you nodded. He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a condom. You two had to be one with each other; there was no need for foreplay.

He pushed up your dress and used his knee to spread your legs open. Noticing you were wearing a lacy pair of panties he groaned. He opened the condom and put it on. He bent down to your level, removing your panties with his teeth, and was right there at your leaking entrance. He placed his tongue on your clit sucking at it as he pulled moans from you.

"So perfect." He praised you, and from the bottom of your lips and up to your clit he licked your pussy and you gripped the sheets and wrapped your legs around his head. His hands were on your thighs, and he pushed them open. His cock was so hard, he needed to be inside you. So he pulled you towards him by your legs, and he olaced his cock at your entrance.

"I hope you don't mind." He joked as he shoved himself into you, causing your body to slightly bounce. He placed one hand on your clothed breast and the other on your clit. His thumb circled around your clit causing your pussy to clench on his cock. He began to go back and forth as you felt the coldness of the lube that came with the condom.

"So good." You cried, gripping his one hand that held your clothed breast. He went back and forth, and the hotel room began to get steamy. You gasped out, moaning, while Lando moaned in a higher pitch, but it sounded like heaven. He loved how your face contoured into a face of pure pleasure.

"I'm your favorite millionaire now." He gloated as you nodded, unable to let out any noise but moans. Your body was sinful, and the lewd sounds of your wet pussy echoed in the room as he went in and out of you. He loved it, and he felt himself get so close. You felt so perfect for him. He found pleasure in how you didn't want anyone to know about what was happening right now. Yet you were so loud, he was sure the whole hotel floor could hear you and him.

He kept his thumb pressed against your clit and there he rubbed it in circles, and instead of moans he heard sharp gasos come from you. He knew you were close and kept his perfect pace, knowing how to treat you. In minutes, you unraveled in his very arms, shaking as your legs shook from the sudden orgasm. He continued to thrust, hearing you cry out louder. He felt you tighten, and right then he pulled out and rubbed his cock up and down, cumming in his condom.

You two caught your breath as Lando got off the hotel bed and removed his condom far from your exposed body. He grabbed a towel and wiped his body off. He grabbed a fresh one and walked over to you on the bed.

"I got you a warm towel." He climbed back on the bed and began wiping you; he was chuckling. "I know we said this once, but how about we continued this?" He asked, and you looked at him. You sat down, grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him.

#x reader #fanfic #oneshot #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #formula one smut #formula 1 smut #f1 smut

[daisynik7]

cw: alcohol, reader is drunk, Nanami is a doting husband, kissing, suggestive dialogue, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, honey, good girl), use of daddy once

Author’s Note: Whoops, I’m afraid my Nanami brainrot is not over! Anyways, I got wine drunk yesterday and I was just imagining about how cute it would be for drunk!reader to come home to husband!Nanami. Enjoy! Banner by @/saradika.

You’ve got your arm draped across your best friend’s shoulders as she helps you stumble up the driveway to your house and towards the front door. She knocks with her free hand, waiting only several seconds before your husband answers, an amused grin on his face. “Thanks for bringing her home in one piece.”

She laughs, handing you off to him. “We almost found the bottom of the bottomless mimosas,” she jokes, waving farewell to the both of you, heading back to the car with the designated driver. Nanami watches them leave while you hang onto his shoulders for dear life. 

He shuts the door behind him, carefully leading you into your home, bending down to remove your heels. You’re a wobbling mess, head hazy and body buzzing with intoxication from today’s brunch. One of infinite things you love about Nanami is how patient he is with you, even when you’re a useless lump, too uncoordinated to do the simplest things like this. 

Now barefoot, you lean against him, using his entire body as support. He remains silent, a calm expression on his face, practically dragging you to the couch where he plops you down, kneeling before you to press the back of his hand to your cheek. He gives you a delicate smooch on the forehead before he stands up to walk to the kitchen. You hear the rushing sound of water from the faucet filling up a container and within seconds, he’s back, sitting beside you, handing you a full glass. “Drink this, sweetie.” You take it, tipping it into your mouth slowly until it’s half full and you’re properly quenched. He studies you in silence, scooching nearer with his hand resting on top of yours. “Are you alright?”

“I’m great,” you giggle, leaning towards him, lips grazing his with a crooked, goofy smile.

He laughs. “It looks like you had a lot of fun with your friends.” He sniffs, adding, “Your breath is very fruity.”

“Is it gross?” You frown at him, feigning embarrassment.

He shakes his head. “Not at all, honey. In fact, it’s very sweet.”  

“You’re very sweet,” you respond, kissing him sloppily. Your hands grip to his t-shirt, tugging at the fabric to bring him closer to you.

Chuckling into your mouth, he pulls away, licking his lips. “Honey, you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not!” you exclaim. “I want you, baby! Don’t you want me?” 

“Of course I want you. I always want you. But not like this. Let’s sober up first.”

“But I want it now!” you whine, being absolutely unbearable.

The smile on his face remains, ever so patient even when you’re being an annoying little shit. He nuzzles his nose to yours, cupping your cheek in his palm. “We’ll do it later, okay?” His voice lowers, mouth hot on your ear now. “Please, sweetheart? Can you be a good girl and listen to daddy?”

You groan, squeezing your legs together, grabbing him firmer. “Don’t tease me like that!”

He laughs again, placing another loving kiss on your forehead. “How about I make us some sandwiches and we watch a movie? Then, I’ll give you exactly what you want.” 

You release him, sighing, still pretending to be disappointed when in fact, you’re more than satisfied. Thrilled beyond belief that you’re married to this incredible specimen of a man. “Fine. I guess that’s alright.”

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami fluff #kento nanami fluff #Nanami Kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #Nanami Kento x you #Nanami Kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami x reader #very self-indulgent nanami fic! #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[cooliestghouliest]

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

plot summary: It’s Eddie’s birthday! He said no presents but you said fuck that. He’s getting two.

word count: 4k+

cw: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI; this is smut; porn with plot; Eddie being mean to Gareth; handjobs and blowjobs and Gareth unknowingly being a bystander of both; there’s some cum stuff in here, too.

notes: set in early 1990s. reader and Eddie are both in early/mid 20s. let’s pretend the PlayStation had co-op online gaming so this story makes sense. a part two may be in store. let me know what you think. 😈

Working overtime at The Hideout was not something you necessarily wanted to do, but with Eddie’s birthday coming up, it was something you had to do.

As much as you would have liked them to, bills wouldn’t simply pause just because you wanted to save money to buy Eddie a PlayStation. No, you had to use your math-inept brain to start budgeting, getting some help from Steve, who’d just recently been hired to work at a local accounting firm.

While you were hoping Steve would magically find money hidden somewhere in your finances, you were annoyed but not surprised at his only solution:

“You need to pick up more shifts.”

You and Eddie had moved into an apartment just outside of Hawkins after Eddie had finally graduated, you having helped him through that dreaded English class so you could both walk the stage together. That had been three years ago now. Money was tight, sure, but the two of you never went without the essentials. There was always dinner to be had, clothes to be worn, cable to be watched.

Between you bartending and trying to get a degree part-time, and Eddie dealing and working at the auto shop part-time, you both managed to make just enough to stay afloat.

Sometimes Eddie would score a few hundred playing a gig with Corroded Coffin, and he’d use that to wine and dine you like the fancy little lady you were. His words, not yours. You knew Eddie liked to spoil you. You knew he hated he couldn’t do it more.

Many stoned late night conversations had been had between the two of you where he fantasized aloud about taking you country to country once the band made it big, fucking you in soft, plush, expensive hotel beds, and spoon feeding you gelato while watching the sunset on a balcony, your bodies wrapped in silk, name-embroidered robes.

Eddie was a total lush at heart. The most broke rich man you’d ever met. You assumed this was because he came from virtually nothing. You didn’t need everything he wanted to give you, but he made it clear on more than one occasion that once money wasn’t a barrier, he would treat you like a queen.

You felt like he already did.

This is why you sucked up the hatred you had for The Hideout and told Roy, your boss, you’d work whatever shifts he could give you for the next few weeks. You endured handfuls of handsy truck drivers, pretended to flirtatiously banter with beyond drunk bikers, and held back the powerful urge to gag while stroking the egos of middle aged business men who chose to go through their midlife crisis in a seedy, dimly lit bar.

Seeing the look on Eddie’s face when you slid the wrapped package across the small dining table in your kitchen made all of the extra hours of rum pouring and forced salacious smiles worth it.

He had been mid-sentence, talking about a client at the auto shop who he’d spent an hour after hours with, the guy telling him all about medieval torture devices. This didn’t surprise you. Eddie’s fascination with the macabre was one of the things that had drawn the two of you together in the first place.

The first time you’d officially met was in English class your junior year, his third senior year. You’d told him you lived in a funeral home because your dad was a generational mortician, and that one day you’d probably own and operate it once your father retired. You also told him your mom was a self-proclaimed psychic who held seances for family members of the dead following their services. Eddie open-mouth stared at you for at least an entire minute in silence before telling you that was the creepiest fucking thing he’d ever heard, and that he would never feel fulfilled in life until you invited him over so he could experience it all firsthand. 

The rest is history.

“What is this?” Eddie asked, brown eyes wide as he observed the gift in front of him.

“I know we said no presents this year so we can save for the new car, but... you know how I had all those late night study groups I had to go to this semester?”

He nodded, long fingers toying with the black parchment wrapping paper.

“Weeeeeell, actually, I was working overtime at The Hideout,” you admitted, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. You knew he wasn’t going to be happy to hear you hadn’t been honest this past month, but you figured once he saw what you’d bought him (and what you’d had planned for the rest of the night), maybe he’d decide to let bygones be bygones. Not likely, as Eddie thoroughly enjoyed teaching you lessons as punishment for bad behavior, and you figured lying for weeks on end about attending study groups qualified as pretty bad behavior. You rushed out the next few sentences, smiling innocently and tilting your head to try and appear as cute as you possibly could, “It was so I could buy you that. For your birthday. Happy birthday, Eddie. Love you.”

Eddie’s brows lifted toward his hairline at your admittance, slow blinking a few times as your confession set in.

“We are definitely going to revisit all that at a later point,” Eddie warned, a ringed finger pointing at you. “Because that is so not okay. But -- ” he couldn’t help the excited, boyish grin that enveloped his features. “I really wanna open this and see what it is.”

You giggled in excitement at his eagerness, drumming your fingers on the table. “Okay, come on! Open it!” You would enjoy these few hours of spoiling him as he so frequently spoiled you, and you’d worry about whatever punishment he’d dole out when it came later.

And right now, the look of elation on his face as he unwrapped the PlayStation was worth however many studded belt spankings or denied orgasms you had in your near future.

“Fuck! Baby! No way!” he practically squealed, jumping up from the chair. It fell to the ground behind him with a clatter, but he paid no mind. He held the gaming console above him in awe. “You’re fucking kidding!”

“No, no kidding,” you answered, even though you knew his words were rhetorical. You could feel your cheeks growing sore with the smile stretched across your face, basking in his reaction. “There’s a real PlayStation in there, I swear.”

He laughed and protectively cradled the console under his arm, hurrying to you to slam his lips against yours in a kiss. No tongue, but plenty of fervor. “God, I fucking love you,” he muttered, placing small kisses on your nose and cheeks. “I mean, I’d fucking love you even if you got me nothing, or just, like, socks or something, but, shit, baby, this is -- I have to call Gareth! We can play King’s Field together now!”

A laugh bubbled out of your lips at his sudden change in direction, knowing Eddie was always at the whim of his impulses. You watched as he ran off to the living room to make the call. You knew Gareth would be waiting for it, as you’d told him to make sure he didn’t have plans on Eddie’s birthday, so the two of them could spend it playing the multiplayer game together late into the night.

It was all part of your grander birthday plan.

You waited until you heard Eddie’s voice rambling off to Gareth in the living room, the sounds of him unboxing the console to start to hook it up mingled into his conversation, before you disappeared into your bedroom to change.

Phase one, complete, success. Phase two, final phase, commence.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

It was about twenty minutes later when you reemerged from the bedroom, wearing nothing but a newly bought matching blood red bra and panty set. It was solid colored with black lace outlining the rim of both pieces, flattering against your skin tone.

Eddie was sitting on the edge of the La-Z-Boy, headset mussing down his wild curls, talking animatedly to Gareth about the skeletons they were currently fighting on the screen.

“No, no! Go left, go left! God damnit, Gareth, do you know what your left is?!”

Eddie was loud and mouthy enough as it is, but add in a game where he had the ability to lose and the whole apartment complex would be banging on their door come tomorrow morning with noise complaints. Hell hath no fury like a twenty-something man’s confidence in his pretend battling skills.

While some might find it annoying, you found Eddie’s unbridled passion for everything he was interested in endearing. He was someone who let himself be totally engulfed by the plot of a movie or a game or a story, attaching himself to the characters and their the ups and downs as if they were tangible and could be found in his own everyday life.

You were happy for his distraction as it gave you time to compose yourself and slowly stalk your way to the center of the living room, where the chair sat directly across from the TV.

By the time you made your way to the side of the La-Z-Boy, finally coming into Eddie’s peripheral vision, he was still berating Gareth for his poor sense of direction.

“I mean, what the hell, Gare, we learned our lefts and rights in, like -- oh, fuck.”

You’d brought you hand out to trail down the exposed skin of Eddie’s arm, watching it goosebump in your wake. He’d taken his shirt off at some point, much to your appreciation. Eddie’s attention was fully on you now, as was evident from his failed completed sentence to Gareth, who you could now hear through Eddie’s headset going, “Oh, fuck? What? What, oh fuck? You don’t even know how to talk, Munson.”

But Gareth went unheard by Eddie, who’s eyes were drinking in the sight of you in your lingerie set. His tongue darted out to lick at his lower lip, which he then pulled into his mouth to sink his top teeth into.

You offered him a playful smile, watching as his neck began to turn red, the color almost a perfect match for the satin set you had on.

Without a word, you dropped to your knees on the carpet in front of him, sitting between his legs.

“What -- what are you doing?” he managed to choke out.

Gareth’s voice through the headset: “What? Dude, I’m fucking going left like you told me to!”

“Shut up, Gareth,” Eddie warned, his brown eyes now full of fire for the sight before him.

He brought one hand to cover the mouthpiece of his headset, the other placing the controller on his lap to reach out and cradle your face. You leaned into it.

“What are you doing, baby?” Eddie asked again, but he knew. Especially from the wicked grin you were giving him now.

“Just play your game, Eddie,” you whispered, careful to be quiet so Gareth didn’t hear. You moved your head to rest your cheek on his thigh, staring up at him with big doe eyes as you brought the fingers of one hand to lightly trace the line of his zipper. “And don’t get caught. We don’t want Gareth to know what a bad girl I’m being, playing with your cock while you play with him.”

His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t believe it.

Not only had you gotten him exactly what he’d been wanting since it came out that prior winter, but now you were going to suck him off while he played it?

Jesus, how did he get so lucky?

“You are a fucking minx,” Eddie said, voice stern but his face lighting up in satisfaction as he readjusted himself on the chair, spreading his legs a bit wider.

He dropped the hand from the headset and picked the controller back up again just as Gareth was saying, “Eddie, man, are you still there? Your character’s been standing in the same place for, like, five minutes.”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Sucking dick was not only one of your favorite things to do, but it was one of the things you were best at.

You prided yourself on how quickly you could work Eddie into a panting frenzy, how easy it was for him to lose control in your mouth, thrusting his hips to force you to take what you could and to choke back the rest.

But tonight you were taking it slow. Slow and sloppy. And you weren’t letting him do any of the work.

You’d only pulled his cock from his jeans, leaving his balls in the confines of the tight denim. You’d used so much spit that the fabric of his pants was soaking through to his boxer briefs. You watched his face intently as one of your hands wrapped around the thickness of him, stroking upwards in long, drawn out movements. You could tell he was trying to jerk his hips up but was failing, as your other hand was pressed into his side, trying its hardest to keep his body weight back against the chair.

“Greedy,” you scolded, clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

He smiled sheepishly, eyes meeting yours over his hands which were holding the controller against his chest. He stopped the movement of his hips even though he felt as if it physically pained him to do so.

You’d been working him with your hands and mouth for the better part of half an hour now, releasing him entirely any time he came close to coming. He’d let a whine out at one point, to which Gareth asked, “Dude, you good?” and Eddie had to scramble out in his lust addled brain an excuse as to why that type of noise had erupted from him. He didn’t even remember what he’d said to explain it away.

All Eddie wanted to do was come. He wanted to cover you in him, drench your face and chest as you’d drenched his pants and cock in your warm saliva. He kept picturing it in his head, in alarmingly graphic detail, which was making this video game very, very hard to concentrate on.

Eddie got the idea that maybe if you neared your breaking point too, he’d finally be allowed to come. His cock throbbed at the thought, a bead of precum oozing from his slit. You sucked it away. He groaned and rolled his eyes back, controller wobbling in his hand and threatening to fall to the floor.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied his grip again, pressing a few random assortments of buttons to make Gareth think he was still coherent and definitely not getting a blowjob from his girlfriend right now.

“Will you please play with yourself?” Eddie asked, trying to put forth his best pleading puppy dog eyes. This was his big plan. Get you to get yourself off so he could sneak his orgasm in there, too.

He clearly had forgotten to cover the mouthpiece because Gareth’s voice was incredulous on the other end.

“What the fuck, Munson? What do you mean? I can’t play with myself! We’re almost at the end, man! Don’t give up now!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, your head falling back for a moment at the exasperation in Gareth’s voice. Gareth was none the wiser, but just so you felt better, you made a mental note to buy him something nice or bake him those cookies you knew he liked, just for being such an unknowingly good sport during all of this.

Sticking your tongue out a bit, you bit down on the fleshy muscle in your mouth before rising more on your knees, leaning closer to Eddie. With the hand that was previously pushing his hips down, you covered his mouthpiece. “Is this a game you can win?” you asked. Your hand had stopped stroking now, and your fingers were instead running light pressured circles around the head of his weeping cock.

“Wha -- what? Uh, yeah... yeah, I can win,” Eddie stumbled, attention off the game momentarily to watch your hot little mouth move. “Just... fuck up a few more skeletons...”

“Okay,” you said, hand tightening on his member again, this time sliding it down slowly, twisting as you went. He hissed, trying to lean forward to capture your mouth with his own. You backed away, falling back down to your bottom as you continued playing with him in your hand. “Then win and I’ll let you come.”

Eddie huffed, trying to thrust his hips up for more friction but was stopped by your hand reclaiming its spot on his pelvis again, pushing him back down. If he wanted, he could absolutely overpower you. He could grab your wrists and pull you up into his lap, sliding the side of your panties over with one hand before impaling you on his wanting cock. He knows you’d let him. But he likes when you get like this, thinking you’re in control. It makes it all that much better when he finally flips the script and has you teary eyed begging for him to let you come.

“Gareth, I swear to fucking god, if we don’t win this game in the next three minutes, I’m never speaking to you again.”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

It takes longer than three minutes, and it’s not because of Gareth.

Eddie keeps screwing up, pressing X when he should be pressing O; spamming the start button to bring up the game menu when you take him particularly deep into your throat; accidentally stabbing Gareth’s character with a sword instead of the skeleton because his eyes keep rolling into the back of his head with the words spilling from your filthy mouth.

It’s all, “tastes so good, Eddie,” and “can’t even fit you all in my mouth,” and “I’m dripping on the floor, want you so bad.”

Evil woman.

Evil, perfect woman.

Eddie sees a light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. In the game, the hallway he and Gareth had been running down is opening into the brightness of a lit arena. It’s the final stage. One more fucking skeleton and he can let go. He can turn this headset off and grunt and groan to his heart’s content without having to worry about Gareth thinking he’s a fucking creep.

“I’m almost there...” Eddie’s saying, and he’s kind of talking about winning the game, but is mostly talking about the orgasm he can feel tightening in his balls, swirling in his stomach, clenching in his thighs.

“Yeah, dude! We got this!”

Eddie does not want to hear Gareth’s voice right now. He wants to hear you, pretty and whiny, loving the noises you make when you make him come. He loves how much you love it. You’re not even the one coming, but you’re always right there with him, moaning about how good his warm seed feels inside you or all over you, wherever he decides to finish. You’re not picky.

Just then, Eddie jolts forward in the chair. The head of his hard length hits the back of your throat and you cough a little, sputtering as you move your head. Looking back over your shoulder at the TV screen, hand moving up and down Eddie’s slippery cock, you see the words 'YOU WIN' in radioactive green.

“Fuuuuuuck, yes!” Eddie shouts, throwing the controller in the air. He rips off the headset without saying goodbye to Gareth, dropping it to the ground as he turns his attention back to you.

He looks absolutely wrecked. Black bangs are clung to his forehead with sweat, his chest is heavy with labored breaths, his skin is tinged pink from being so worked up and then worked back down over and over for the past hour. He can’t believe he hasn’t accidentally came yet. He assumes it’s because his mind was preoccupied with the game, because now that his full attention is on you, remembering what you’re wearing, what you’re doing, and how you look so fucking good doing it, he doesn’t think he’s going to last.

“Baby, please, I wanna come,” he’s saying, bringing one hand to the back of your head, tangling it in your hair. He’s not guiding you or helping at all, doesn’t want to be in control yet, he just wants to touch you, needs to have his hands on you somehow. “I won, did you see, I won, I get to come, right? Please make me come...”

You bit back a self-satisfied look at his pleading, bringing both hands now to wrap around the length of him. It doesn’t need it, already soaking from being in your mouth, but you let a string of spit fall onto the head of his cock, making your hands glide even easier over the velvety hardness of him. You can feel him throbbing, his hips finally able to rock up into your touch.

“Are you gonna make me all messy, Eddie?” you ask, tilting your head down to look up at him with wide, faux innocent eyes.

He’s nodding, thrusts finding no rhythm, just trying to reach release. “Yeah, baby, you love it when I cover you in my come, get you all wet and sticky...”

“Uh-huh. Love when you help me clean it up, too.”

And that’s what does it.

Eddie let out a stilted moan, one that changed octaves, and he’s coming harder than he thinks he’s ever come before.

Thick ropes of white hit your cheeks, your chin, your neck, your chest.

You gasped at the contact, then let out a moan that made his toes curl into the carpet, licking your lips to catch anything that landed in tongue distance.

He watches it all. His eyes threaten to close but fuck no, he loves to see you get marked by him in the most primal of ways. Loves to watch his cock paint the prettiest portrait on you.

He brought his hand down to help you stroke him through it, wanting to feel your smaller fingers on his cock as he rode out his high.

Then he gave you what you love, helping you clean it up. He bent his head down and ran his tongue across your hot skin, scooping up as much of his release as he could. He grabbed you by the chin, pulling down until your mouth opened before spitting into your mouth, watching as you let it sit for a moment before closing your mouth and swallowing, your eyes heavy with arousal at his actions.

“Mmmm,” you sound, smiling dopily. You kissed at his lips, your hand still slowly stroking him as he softened.

He licked at your bottom lip before his tongue moved into your mouth and against yours, pulling you into his lap. You melted into his touch, becoming boneless flesh in his arms. He groaned at the feeling of your wet, clothed cunt pressed against his lower stomach. He hadn’t even touched you -- you hadn’t even touched yourself -- and yet you were still so slick for him.

That thought alone was enough to cause his cock to twitch, and he thanked the sex gods or whoever was in charge for gracing him with stamina tonight of all nights.

“Best,” kiss to your nose, “birthday,” kiss to your chin, “ever,” kiss to your lips.

You smiled against his lips, humming happily at his admission. This was exactly how you planned the night going. Surprise Eddie with a PlayStation and an explosive orgasm.

Then he just had to go and throw a curveball.

“I’ll be good to go in twenty minutes,” he conceded, fingers running featherlight down your bare back. “Then we’ll see what we’re gonna do about that lying mouth of yours.”

Damn it. The study groups. He remembered. Part of you hoped you’d sucked all the sense out of him, but apparently not.

“Mean,” you pouted.

Eddie’s eyes flashed wickedly, a lazy grin stretching across his face.

“Oh, I will be.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter V — "just one."

Deep down.

Toc/cw; mdni!!!!!!!!! MATURE CONTENT!!! Fingering(f. Receiving x2) multiple orgasms, heat funk, yunho is a pleaser. Biting, Begging, & Big dick!yunho (duh). Mention of size difference, unprotected sex but don't worry men have unrealistic birth control(amen), cum eating(x2), knotting, slight overstim. Aftercare, cuddling, lots of kissing and fluff, yunho is a service dom omfg. Slight breeding kink if u squint. Joong is a little shitbird, joong teasing you, lots and lots of teasing. Breast worship. edging. Left Unfinished(m!(un)receiving). It's okay tho. Overwhelming tears from stimulus. ussy drunk. Cockadoodledo drunk. What else kinda drunk is there yknow. DONT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE!! JUST BLOCK OR SKIP ☆ thank yew. Also, completely fiction.

pet names/nns; baby, omega, pretty girl, angel, _ girl (yours). Yun, alpha(yunho). Joong(hongjoong). Hwa(seonghwa).

Wc; 11.6k!! (I figured out how to wc r u proud?)

Yunhos friends have no clue why he left so abruptly, texts flood his messages and calls that immediately get put on hold, but besides that, he's too busy on the phone with you, ignoring all of them just to help you. He texted seonghwa as fast as he could when he was walking down the sidewalk. Surely all typos. Yet no response from the eldest member. His car is a silent buzz as he flows down the highway back to the apartment where he knows you are. He's glad he didn't drink, he was supposed to be the driver for the night, he's gonna have to apologize about that later. The heat in his fingertips dig into the cold steering wheel. When he tries to distract himself from the gasps and whispers you produce on the speaker of his phone- slotted into his cup holder.

Begging for him to be there, asking for him. Maybe he even ends up regretting going out at all. Truly, it was to distract himself from you. To get away from your scent and your words and everything in-between. He shoulda known in your heat it's not safe for you on the floor of your apartment complex. The last two floors are full of alphas and betas.

Omegas have their own section of building just for this reason. And yet he still thought it was safe to leave you at home with his other members who he knows will take care of you if anything, who are probably completely passed out and oblivious to your quickly arriving heat. You could easily slip out of your room and wake them up, could even leave the apartment and knock on the next door where many other alphas live. Who yunho assumes would gladly help poor omega you out.

You called him, though. Yunho feels obligated to take care of you like the alpha he should. He's with you, soul and spirit, dedicated to help you through this. Even if he isn't there in person yet. Yunho tries to even his breathing, even if for a moment.

"You still there omega?" He asks, you've been silent since you begged for him to be there with you. Since he said he was gonna take care of you. "Yes.. 'm still here alpha" your whisper is more of a whimper. And, holy shit. Yunho's pants feel tighter the way you say it. His finger flips his blinker on as he nears the exit.

“It- yunho-” the shuffle of you stuffed in your closet gets yunho's cogs moving again. “I know baby” it just slips. “You can wait, yeah?” his teeth pry on his bottom lip. Turning off the exit.

“No, i can't- it's too much” your cry makes him take a quick inhale. “Okay, okay” yunho knows the route to the apartment. He knows it very well in fact. He takes the shortcut. “I'll help you out as much as I can,” yunho's head falls to his seat. “I need you to lay on your back for me” he commands.

You shuffle to do so, pushing the phone as close to you as you can as if it will get Yunho closer. Yunho swallows the saliva in his mouth, gulping down his nerves.

“I need you to prep yourself, you can do that can't you?” he tells- no, he's asking you. Genuinely wanting you to answer him. Shuffling of fabric already tells him the answer, never in yunho's wildest dreams would he have had one of his life long fantasies come to life. Porn isn't the same when it's you, the bane of yunho's existence, doing exactly as he says.

Your fingers work diligently to peel off your pants- shorts- whatever and everything other than your shirt. Struggling in the confinement of your tiny closet and tiny nest. “Okay” you say into the speaker, panting heavily. Brain full of flowers and the scent of yunho under the amount of clothes you're sitting on top of. “I can do it”

Praise falls off the tip of the gray haired alpha’ tongue. Turning into the parking garage. You are in this building, so close, yet so far. Before Yunho hops out of his car, he picks up the bag he left earlier in the day from his back seat, stretching to grab it. He shoves his hand into the plastic bag to grab the small bottle. Just in case, he tells himself. The tall man pops open the lid after a few seconds of reading the label, dryly throwing back two sea blue colored pills. Birth control,(more like sperm control), two just in case. Yunho knows it's the fast acting kind- which the label said. For emergency purposes. This is definitely one of those emergencies.

Of course, the elevator rises very slowly. His fingers fiddle with his phone nervously pressed up against his ear. Your sighs and silent words make Yunho's pulse speed up.

The floors begin to level out, no longer in the parking lot, 1, 2, 3 and so forth. He counts every number, every level pass. Finally, It reaches your shared floor. Yunho doesn't even let the doors open fully, thankfully, your scent isn't in the hallway. So you must not have left your room since calling him. He pulls out his wallet, pushing through them for the keycard to the apartment. “I'm outside the apartment okay? I'm hanging up, I promise I'll be right there, I'm just outside” he hangs up before you have a chance to speak. He knows if he hadn't he might have forgotten about turning it off. Yunho isn't in the mood to have a dead phone because he left the call going.

As soon as he gets the door open, he isn't wasting time to take his jacket off. His shoes, though, get kicked off and left messily behind him. The door clicks shut, locking automatically. The apartment is void, no movement or sounds that meet yunho upon entering. Yunho takes quick strides to your bedroom door, the same scent from before becoming more powerful. More sweet and more alluring. He knocks gently, before pushing it open.

You're nowhere in sight, Yunho feels like a predator stalking your whereabouts when he enters your room. He hasn't been here for a while, he closes the door behind him, locking it with a click. He calls your name gently. Your messy head is the first thing that catches Yunho's eyes. Followed by you kicking the blanket off your feet in the closet, stumbling over to him.

You practically pounce into his embrace, curling your legs around his hips. He helps you the rest of the way, wrapping his arms around you to hold you up and grabbing your waist in his tight grasp. Yunho can feel the heat radiating off of you. He's lucky enough that he's still cold from the nightly weather outside. You are like a fireplace, steaming up on impact with his cold body.

You get as close as you can, shoving your face into his primary scent glands. Your heels digging into him to bring him further into you. Soft whining of his name as you swish your lips around his neck, pushing your scent out.

Yunho needs to take a deep breath. And assess what he's got to do. You're very obviously in an omega mindset, clinging to him like a lifeline. His hands slide up to hold your thighs, soft and pliable under his firm grip. You wiggle from the grasp.

“Did you prep?” he asks, swaying over to your bed, it's large enough to hold the two of you. You shake your head. “I need words, omega” he pulls your head from his shoulder, his knee hits your mattress. Still supporting you, Yunho slowly leans down to plant you on your bed, sitting on his knees between your legs. Watching your head fall over one of your pillows he swiftly slotted behind you. “No, I couldn't,” your pouty lips make Yunho mimic your face with his own smirky pout. “You need me to do it for you baby? Is that what you want?” Yunho unhooks your legs from his lean waist, holding your calves between his large hands. They almost wrap around them entirely.

He scans the way your chest falls with every breath, an oversized plain white shirt. And of course, no bra. Which yunho somehow knows you can only sleep comfortably without. Lastly, the shirt only rides up enough to see that you aren't wearing shorts. He can't torture you any longer, your eyes are begging, hands grasping at his jacket, hoping to tell him to take it off. He drops his hands from your calves to slot it off over his heavy shoulders. Sighing into your palm when you bring him back down and towards your lips.

You taste how you smell, only heavier. More heavenly to yunho. His tongue prides into your bottom lip. You slip it open to let him in, moaning into his mouth. His hands wonder, finding his way to your thighs and up, closest to where your hips jut out upon impact. Wet, Yunho sucks on your tongue when he pulls back, eliciting another strangled moan out of you that has him pulsing. “Yunho” you call out, whining. His fingers slide under the shirt and over your underwear, caressing your soft skin. “You need me here? is this where you want me?” he teases with his questions, drinking in your expressions. You nod eagerly. Yunho’s long digits pull the hem to the side to push his thin fingers through your folds. Watching you for a reaction with lidded eyes, biting back his lip. You preen, head falling back, hips twitching. He gathers the slick you produced, making sure to rub it around his two digits to lube them up up and down, poking and swirling around your clenching hole.

The tip of his middle finger prods into you, fully being embraced by your walls. Yunho's fingers are long and big, definitely bigger and longer than yours. His thumb angles up to rub into your sensitive bud, gathering slick on the way, slow calculated circles that have you writhing for more. Yunho's finger begins curling up into you, pressing against your soft gummy walls. Yunho didn't think he'd get to see you like this, get to feel you like this. “More, please, please alpha” you cry out, biting against the arm slotted over your face. And he obliged, pushing his pointer finger into you. It's an easy slip, thanks to your dripping core. Yunho moans quietly at the pulse of your heartbeat at his fingertips.

You're so unbelievably horny that you're pulsing for him. Muffling your whiney breaths. Yunho's fingers gain speed, slipping in and out to pry you open, to prep you. Bending and prodding that spot you keep jolting at. He finds it and abuses it as much as he can. Watching you unfold and get closer to your high. Just a bit more, he can tell you're already getting antsy. So horny it only takes a few strokes of his thin fingers to get you worked up close to your high.

“You feel so good baby” he whispers to just you. Just you. You mewl at the praise, pulling him back down for another heated kiss. More desperate and begging. You're softer than Yunho could ever imagine, wrapped around his fingers when he digs them into you, plying and squishing into your g spot. Your lip gets pulled up into yunhos when he sucks air into his lungs.

Yunhos got you so close, your leg pressed over his lean thigh that digs into the mattress under you. Watching the way his fingers disappear into you quickly. You're not hurting for a knot when he has his fingers buried to the hilt in you. If your mind wasn't foggy, you'd surely be savoring this. But you're still only thinking about needing something bigger, Yunho's knot. You gasp at the magma pooling in your stomach, looking to yunho. You're a jumble of words. Already messy from just his fingers.

Yunho catches this, his thumb hooking onto your clit and swirling. “Just one baby, then I'll give you what you want” he groans into his words, taking as much pleasure from this as you. His eyebrows pull taunt over his eyes, mouth lulled open from focus. “Come on omega, cum for me” he calls on, looking you in the eyes. Dark, cloudy, and full of lust.

The tension breaks, squeezing your thighs around yunho's hand. A silent whine, at the attack of your senses. One of the most weakening orgasms you've ever felt. Twitching at the thumb that Yunho keeps pacing you with. Overstimulating you the slightest. You couldn't get this kind of high from your own hands throughout your first heat. He presses soft gentle kisses to your face as you come down, slowing the movement of his hand. He sighs with you. Completely turned on.

The neediness for more is slowly returning, there's only so much one high can do for your faziness. You squirm when he begins pulling his fingers out, whining at the loss of feeling stuffed, underwear snapping back over your wet core. Yunho thinks it's not enough prep, but you can't wait any longer and he knows that. Before he pulls to sit up, he leans on his calves. Watching the way your slick trails down his hand, sticky and warm. He can't help himself, taking his fingers in between his lips, humming around the digits when he holds eye contact with you.

That's got you going again, whining for him, panting gently. “You taste amazing mega, so perfect” his eyes trace your features, his words making you melt into a puddle. He comes down to level with you, his knees once again slotting between yours, pushing up to bend you back over his thighs. He brings himself in this time, using his free hand to pull you onto his mouth. You moan at the taste of yourself, scrunching your face up into him.

Yunho's free hand pulls at your underwear, one frustrating tug halfway down your legs, fuck it. He pulls with a hard tug, snapping them off, he's not moving anymore to get them off. Tossing them to the side. The cold air makes you clench around nothing. Shifting closer to him. Yunho's tongue and mouth is like water in the desert. He draws you in with his palm against the scruff of your neck, you reach between you both. Needing to feel him.

Your fingertips skims the bulge of his jeans, he's big, big enough to stand out from the denim and leave an indent. So big, you're beginning to drool. He bucks away from your touch, moaning once under his breath as you pant against each other's lips. His hands reach to swat yours away, shushing your whimpers for the contact. “no touching, ‘M gonna take care of you omega, like I promised” he works on his belt, tossing it across the room. He decides his dark shirt is more important, pulling it straight up and over him.

Yunho's lean physique is beautiful. Almost shy under your eager eyes, he smiles down at you, shoving his shirt under the soaking spot on the bed, right under your bum he lifts so easily up. Your blankets are definitely gonna need cleaning. As soon as he's done helping ease the hurt, he'll get to fixing up your bed and making it comfortable. You let him do what he needs to, fiddling patiently, no touching.

No touching. Your feet curl in anticipation, wiggling at the command, the slow drip of your slick is beginning to pool down your center. Your thighs curl together at the feeling.“Yun- alpha” you whine, watching him undo his jean buttons and zip down his zipper. He looks up for a split second at your call, “i know, i hear you omega” he leans up to take your shirt off for you. Completely down to allow you to play pillow princess. He leaves a trail of gentle kisses down the center of your chest, memorizing your reaction and your breasts. Yunho is a fan, a big fan and he definitely will worship your tits when he gets the chance. He shoves his jeans down the rest of his knees. Despite being told no touching, you reach to help pull the rest of them off.

With some struggle on your part, huffing impatiently and tingling because of the ache fully coming back. Yunho kicks his tight jeans across your room, they land somewhere with a dull thud. His hands pull at your hips and turn you over to your side. You don't ask questions, letting him do what he wants with you. “You ready?” He asks looking up from your leaking hole, and well- you're so eager you think you've been begging this entire time. “Yes, alpha, m ready” You plead desperately. “you're doing great mega, so patient for me” the prod of yunho's hand as he spreads open your cheeks makes you gasp.

“Look, you're dripping all over” He chuckles, a first genuine and teasing chuckle, like he can't believe he's able to get you this wet. His wide and big hand keeps you spread open, holding your cheek up. As his other hand pulls back to grip his cock. He passes it between your leaking folds and glazes just over your clit. You buck, your head falling back. “Please please’ please put it in alpha-” you cry, wiggling and trying to push your hips towards him. Yunho shushes you quietly, his hand spread over your stomach to stop you. “Be good ‘mega, you'll wake the neighborhood” he hushes you with a tipped groan as you slick over him, he uses his free fingers to spread it over him as much as he can patiently. Prodding the tip into you.

Groans of curse words slip off Yunho's tongue. Only an inch in. He's not even fully in you, yet he can already feel your weeping hole squeezing him in a death grip, attempting to adjust to his size even though he's only pushed the smallest bit of him inside you. Yunho didn't think he'd fit at all. He pushes your leg closest to his chest farther up, spreading you open wider for a better angle. Your pants and moans, and sticky skin makes Yunho painfully impatient. Inch by inch, he pushes in slowly in case the stretch is too much for you. Holding your thigh in his large palm so you can't jolt away. Breathy groans he lets out are much quieter than yours. Yunho slides himself the rest of the way in with a single thrust of his hips. His eyes fluttered at the clench. Almost painfully tight around him, it's more than he could ever imagine, the daydreams are nothing compared to the real thing that's your needy cunt. He ruts up once by accident, eagerly needing to feel your squishy walls wrapped around him all along his length. He praises you for taking it, panting into his words. “mega, you’re so perfect- Auh– fuck- you fit me in so well. so good for me.” he pulls your thigh against his chest, sandwiching closer to you, he's so vulgar, yunho hardly ever curses around you, but the way you have him has him letting loose. his hand trails a sweaty pattern against your thigh as he rubs it up and down soothingly.

Your greedy gasp and shuddered body being so full fills you with delight, his tip presses the deepest part of your silky walls that has you seeing stars. You're vocal but so silently about it, the stretch of yunho's cock should be impossible, you know alpha cocks are huge- but this is not what you imagined, yunho is completely different. Your gasps of pleas whisper towards Yunho in your dark bedroom. He can still somehow make out your face from the city lights shining through your curtains. Full of pleasure, tortured pleasure, he loves the faces you make, so pretty and so tortured as he helps you adjust to his length. You pull his arm as close as you can get it, tiny hand wrapping across his wrist, wanting him closer. He bends down over you, squishing you into the mattress with his much larger body, the angle makes your clit jump from the squeeze of the push of pressing against each other. He captures your lips in a cut off moan, trailing sloppy kisses down your jaw. He rocks his hips once, then twice to check if you’re good enough to go, groaning at the tantalizing dig. Yunho might have almost came from just being inside you, you're so perfect, he's starting to think you've ruined him for anyone else. You keenly twitch, mewling into his ear. His tip is already hitting your cervix, how big is he? His hand finds purchase next to your head. Bending the mattress.

Yunho's eyes are like obsidian, boring into your own, his silver-gray hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, soft swipes of his tongue poking out to wet his lip. His fingers searching for your free and loose hands to wrap your hand in his own. The first snap of Yunho's digging hips has you blinking back overwhelmed tears. He begins to set a pace, fluttering his eyes at the feeling encompassed by you. Given by you. Jaw falling slack as he pants out. You whine his name, melding perfectly against his big form. Yunho pushes in more than he pulls out, snapping his hips towards your own in steady deep movement.

“More, more- please, yun-” you beg so nicely yunho has a hard time not fulfilling your request. His smooth lips press into your forehead, his hips smacking into your own in big thrusts when he speeds up. He pulls your leg over his shoulder, the bend is imaginable. You're not that flexible, but yunho will make you. His fingers unlatch from your interlaced hands, tracing down your body- his pointer and middle finger swirl around your clit, you twitch and writhe at the sensation, pelvis pulling back at the added pressure. Gasping and moaning out so much so your head begins to dig into the space between your pillows. Hair astray. Yunho wants to memorize this to heart, your sweaty face full of pleasure, jaw slack. Pretty moans- when he's away by himself he wants this to be what he thinks back to. And how you called to him in the night to make you feel this good, to do you this good. He bites on his bottom lip, his darker eyes boring into the joint section between the two of you. The suction has him biting back the need to pop right there.

Yunho is a diligent lover, he craves touch and affection during sex and he's definitely using this as his opportunity to get it from you, not that you mind at all, you preen at any affection the alpha will show you. His other hand, not holding your own, leans heavily into the pillow next to you, flexing his biceps and muscles that appeared from years of hard work. Your free hand grabs on, scratching and anchoring yourself to him. “how're you feeling ‘mega? I- fuck- i told you I'd take care of you- so good for me, so- shit- warm” He asks between heavy pants, his hips stuttering against you, pushing you harder and harder into the mattress. More and more like you want. Even when filling you completely to the brim with his big dick he's still only asking about you. You're cockdrunk, almost so close to the verge, even though Yunho isn't rough and completely pouding you, his cock is enough to satiate that neediness for something to break you. A line is forming on your brows, your stomach beginning to knot from the way he pounds and works his fingers over your bundle of nerves.

Yunho's pace is heavy, digging into your core and pushing your hip into your stomach, the pressure building up and rubbing at the perfect angle that has you arching into him. “alpha, Yun, ah- good, feel soso good, don't stop- please-'' You're begging for who knows what, yunho definitely knows he isn't gonna stop. The slap of sticky skin collects in your dim bedroom, the smell of yours and yunho's scents mixing. Your sweet dew and vanilla under the woody scent yunho always has, collides. The coil in your stomach is tightening and so deliciously close to breaking. Yunho can feel it, the clench of your walls around his cock has him burying to the hilt with every thrust and push “you want me inside baby? Need my knot?” he asks between heavy pants and grunts, you nod sloppily, spewing words. His knot begins to grow at the base of his cock. And maybe he even imagines that he didn't take that BC earlier. That his cum will take, and his knot will drive you crazy enough to ask him to mate you for life and give you so much more.

“yes, inside please, I'm close, mclose so close ahh- yun-'' your mouth falls slack, pulses of white flash through your brain at the stimulus, yunho tips over the edge with you as your cunt flutters around him. His knot fully ties itself into your womb, hot spurts of cum, leaking from his tip as your name falls out. Yunho, as if on instinct, fang sharp-teeth pop open. He bites on your shoulder, knowing he can't mark you, can't mate you as his- yet, just not yet. When you reciprocate with a bite so close to his primary glands, his hips jut up into you, pushing his cock even deeper if possible. You twitch and shake as your orgasm begins to wash away, twitching some more at the overstimulation of yunho's length pulsing the last few spurts into you, warm and hot and so so much of it- so much so it is already creating a white base around the joint area between you two. His knot doesn't stop growing until he's panting by your head, kissing your sweaty skin so softly. You lean into his touch, preening at the affection with closed eyes. Your pants are heavier compared to his, somehow yunho isn't breathing as hard as you.

He slides down next to you, the tug of his knot still connected. He cups you close, stomach to back. Yunho definitely prefers spending his night like this instead, helping you through your heat and first couple of weakening orgasms. He knows some if not a good amount about omega gender, thanks to you- he did the research. He's glad he did, he knows you'll be spent- but if he asked, you'd be willing to go for more rounds. And he'd be happy to do so to satiate your needs. But you are still in the beginning of the haze, you can only take so much for your first heat with someone else and not completely pass out.

Moments of breathing in air and time in the earliest of morning. Yunho is your first, not overall- but heat wise. He's got to take pride in that. And he does, your duvet is buried under you and Yunho's dark shirt has cum splotches so he can't throw any of it onto you to cover you both comfortably. Your foggy brain must be subsiding by now and for some reason yunho feels shy being so naked even though he drilled you into your mattress and left you dazed after two orgasms. Your head pushes back against his shoulder, looking up at him. He catches your eyes, the smallest of smiles at your fucked out face. “Hi baby” he whispers in the dark, rubbing his free hand against your chin. Your eyes blink up tiredly from his warm touch.

“Hi yun” you smile, looking at the way Yunho's silver hair falls over his forehead in waves, his other arm and hand propping his head up. His eyes fall over your lips, smiling down, he leans into you to capture your swollen lips with his own pink ones. The post haze of orgasms washes away. But the heaviness of Yunho's knot pulses once more. You twitch, pulling away from his lips. The knot is tied so tightly to you, it makes you feel as though you're still stuffed. And you are. Yunho's cum is buried in you so deeply thanks to his knot and his cock that it makes your heart skip with appreciation. You never thought going commando would be so good, never thought a knot so deeply in you would make you feel even better. Is this what you were missing out as a beta? Yunho's hand finds its way over your stomach, pushing down on the bulge ever so slightly that has you whining and digging your hips back into him. “You did so well, took me so well” he whispers, pecking your neck with a singular kiss. The ache subsided, even if for a moment. Yet you clench at his words.

You know what happened, you remember everything that happened. Other than yunho smelling like he was at a bar and grill before you pounced. Did you steal him away from something? You turn your head to look at him. Smoothing your finger over his overgrown sideburn. His eyes scan your face, observing your nakedness in the dark. “Where were you?” You ask, whispering to him. He inhales softly, the fan of his breath cooling the sweat from your face. “I was getting some food and drinks with friends” he answers earnestly, rubbing soft circles into your hip. He still doesn't pull out of you, his knot so close to dissipating. Chest bumping against your back as he breaths.

“I'm supposed to drive them home” he chuckles airily, knowing the way you're gonna react before he even says it. “it's okay though, there was another designated driver” he reassures your worries. Taking them off your shoulders. You turn your head back into the pillow, reaching down to lock your hands in his. It's intimate and risky, but yunho doesn't pull away and you're thankful. “Your friends are going to hate me” you pout. He leans up. Left hand falling over the otherside of you. “No they don't- they won't either” he skims a soft kiss over the bite mark he left. Red and deep.

Good thing you don't have any more photos to take any time soon. A week should heal that up if he keeps his teeth to himself the entire time. Your pout becomes a shy smile because of his affection. The prettiest of smiles yunho adores. He peppers kisses down your arm and shoulder, basking in the way goosebumps raise to the surface of your skin. It feels like a honeymoon phase, yunho has always worn condoms, but never has he let his knot dig into someone before, you get his first time without a condom- and his knot. He feels so warm and he knows it's because he loves you and he has his connection to you still inside. It's triggering some primal urge in him to be lovesick. You hum through your smile quietly. Soundlessly falling back into silence. Your fingers prying and bumping against yunhos when you breathe, caressing the veins and length of his digits compared to yours. His right arm is under you but he doesn't care. He wants to be crushed by you, even if you aren't at all heavy. Your locked fingers pulled over your stomach as he anchored them there, fingertips feeling so very comfortable pressed against you.

Yunho begins to pull out, ever so gently. He pats your hip beforehand as a warning. You scrunch up at the loss as soon as he's fully out, missing the way you felt full. You whine for Yunho when he begins to tug away from you, unlatching your fingers. “I got to get you cleaned up” he reassures, kissing against your jaw facing away from him. His lean body is pulled away from you, suddenly making his spot behind you cold. He shoves his briefs on. But before he goes he opens the closest window to air out the scent of sex in the air. Afterwards, he walks to your adjacent door. Sadly, you have to share a bathroom. He peeps his head out your door, looking into the hallway. Back and forth.

He turns back to look at you, smiling gently. “I'll be right back okay?” He whispers loud enough for you to hear. You curl up into yourself, holding a hand between your thighs to prevent any leakage. It doesn't work well. “Hurry, please” you whisper back. Yunho bites his lip, looking you up and down once more. He pulls away, closing your door behind him ever so quietly.

In the silence of your bedroom, your head falls back against your pillow, the pulsing ache no longer activating in your stomach. Maybe a knot does satiate the need for more after a while. You're surely tired though because you slept terribly and are still needy for affection. Yunho's words wrap around your mind, you try to plug your fingers against the cum beginning to drip out. It's as helpful as it seems. You wait a minute longer, then two, then three. Beginning to twist your ankle in anticipation.

You sit up before Yunho comes back in, clothing thrown over his right arm and a single blanket, a deep gray towel and a water bottle in his left. Black sweatpants hang off his hips, this time his loose shirt is white. “up” he beckons you up to the headboard of your bed. When you scoot up to readjust he pulls off your duvet, leaving your almost spotless sheet under you. Sitting down on the edge of your feet, your hand withholds the liquid in you as you lay on your back, head propped up against the pillows yunho laid out for you, sitting up slightly.

He hands you a water bottle after pouring some of it onto the towel. Urging you to drink it, his free hand prys your wrist away from your sopping core. Suckling a harsh hum at the pour of yours and his cum leaking out. The towel scraping up against your cunt makes you sensitive, thighs tensing and hissing away. He acknowledges it, kissing the top of your propped knee and pulling you back. Gauging your reaction with every swipe of the towel to make you the least uncomfortable he can. It makes your heart swell. Hiding your smile behind a chug of water. He's gentle with his care, checking your thighs for any more residue.

When he's done he plants the towel and his soiled shirt in your laundry basket propped next to your door. As much as he hates taking his scent off of you. You will get sticky and uncomfortable with it plugged into you all night. He might come back for his nasty shirt later though. He wipes your dirty hand away, kissing your fingers softly as soon as he's done. Your heart skips.

“Better?” he asks as you hand your water to him, he places it on your dresser. You nod, still naked. He almost forgot. A light gray shirt yunho keeps around -that you know is pretty expensive- gets pulled over your head easily. It's big, just as big as Yunho, maybe even more. It smells like his cologne, and his scent of citrus and vanilla, heavy. The masculine smell of sandalwood is the most prominent. You breathe him in, missing the scent he produced during your intimate moment. Next he's slipping you into a matching gray pair of his briefs, they're a bit big, but it doesn't matter to you.

You're so grateful for the attention Yunho is giving you. He doesn't need to be gentle, but he is anyway, and it's making you feel all the more soft and so head over heels. You pull Yunho close as soon as he's done. Head slotting into his pale neck. You trail kisses against your own mark you left on him, kissing more heavily on the bite you left, nuzzling your nose into him. He sighs dreamily, a long arm wrapping against your back. His knee falls to kneel onto the bed, laying half over you gently. Consuming you with his scent and body. He prefers it like this, when you're completely full of him and smell like him. Tiredly begging for his touch after he already gave you everything you wanted. You wiggle to get comfortable, locking your leg over his hip. Whilst his leg slots between your legs. He kisses the top of your head. Rubbing soothing pats against your back. As his other hand reaches for the blanket he brought in. White and thin with crochet patterns, definitely taken from the end of his bed.

Easily, he pulls it over the two of you. Comfortable and surrounded by yunho. Your head isn't sweating thanks to the breeze from the window. Any sweat you had cooled along with the water he gave you. So sweetly, taking care of you and even cuddling you. How are you so lucky right now? You couldn't ask for a better second heat phase.

“Thank you” you mumble against Yunho's neck. You feel the shuffle of his gray hair press against the side of your head when he turns. “Don't thank me” he huffs into a grin. His palm coming up to caress against your shoulder. If it's unconscious, you don't know. But his hand lands directly over the bite he left. Your eyes slink, closing down thanks to the lullaby of Yunho's heart beat and soft breaths.

In the silence of the early morning, one of your many daydreams comes true, buried under yunho and everything that smells like him. Yunho, just prefers you, your soft and squishy skin against his. His fingers slip under the collar of his shirt.

“I love you” he whispers the quietest, just as your mind begins to drift. You whisper back, slurring. “love you more” you don't care if it's early, or if he's just saying it after such an intense night together. You don't even know if he's just saying it in an affectionate way. But you mean it when you say it, I love you more, cause you do. Yunho has you whipped around his finger after knowing he can take care of you even after you already had the biggest crush on him before. The best is him afterwards, sticking by your side.

It's more than a year back, your dream blending into a memory. You're presenting at an award show, gladly introducing artists. Preppy voice loud and simple to suck the crowd in. In the prettiest of pastel outfits some snooty stylist gave you to wear. You know behind the screen out there your boys are cheering you on. And it keeps you grounded. Despite being on TV the most nerve-racking thing is your ex. Who's also a host, they don't know though. You guys kept it wrapped under the media for about a month before he was caught cheating on you with another popular idol. Not cheating to the media though, they assumed those two were together, but you were devastated for a week nonetheless.

You wonder why you even liked him in the first place. He's cute, funny, complicated, and talented. An omega, which you didn't care about. But his attitude was that of a spoiled brat who always gets what he wants. Maybe you thought that was really cute, when he would beg you for pda when he knew you were private, and when you would say yes, he'd accuse you of trying to expose the secret. It reminds you of someone else now, a less bratty and less annoying guy, who doesn't give a fuck about pda and will show you off at any chance because he likes to tease you. Somehow, that relationship never raised suspicion.

Your ex is a fairly popular guy, more so than you. Your group was still rising to some. And his group was popular from the get-go. Thanks to one of the big ents. Your trainee days got you a spot here, he recommended you, leading to you two seeing each other often, then soon dating. You got the opportunity before he cheated. You never understood why, but you weren't gonna give up just because he was going to show up. No way. You stand tall and proud, gleaming for the screen as does your ex who continues to scoot closer every camera shot.

You try your best to ignore him when you're on ad break, getting your makeup reapplied. “Can we talk?” He asks over the bustling makeup artists, you're thankful they're shielding you from him. “No,” you huff. “I'm getting my touch up done, please leave” you say as politely as you can. Honorifics and all. He grimaces. Stepping closer.

“I'm sorry-” you sigh at what's to come. Another sob story, another lie. You're not some silly girl, you're mature, you're an adult. You know the signs. And you know cheaters can change, yes, but something tells you he won't. You taught yourself to follow your gut feelings. And now, you still will. “No, you're not sorry, you're guilty you got caught. You’re sorry because you got caught, you're not sorry to me at all.” even though it was just a month, you took your time doing everything for him in it. First relationships always move fast. You risked that with him, leading him through his first time with you as a couple.

You took the reins and he abused that. His eyes well with crocodile tears. Before you can speak once again, his sorrowful eyes land on a figure looming behind you. Scowling, his tears seem to dry up quickly as if they were just for show. “Great” he laughs angrily. You're so very confused but when a large hand lands on your shoulder, you know exactly who it is. The whiff of vanilla and sandalwood following.

“Yun” you greet, a soft realization that he came to see you, your soft, smiley, extremely taller member came to watch you. And he knows exactly who the fool in front of you is, Yunho's black hair falls perfectly over his forehead as he scales your ex up and down, the tiniest of a forced grin on his taunt lips. “Hey, I didn't know you were working as a host” yunho is older than your ex, and he doesn't greet him as a friend. Nor does he acknowledge the tears. Honorifics that sound like venom falling from the pretty tip of his tongue.

Your ex doesn't bother to bow his head either, sticking up to your older group member. “I got her the job” he scoffs slightly into his words, shifting on his feet. Looking anywhere else except for the tall man's eyes. You feel completely squashed and kind of embarrassed from this interaction. Your ex is still trying to keep up a brave face under his extremely pink eyebrows. “Really?” Yunho looks back down at you, the smallest of smiles, but genuine. He squeezes your shoulder softly, glancing between your eyes mischievously. “Then I'm sure she'll be the best, she might end up being better than you” he chuckles, meanly, yunho is hardly ever mean. You can't help the snort of laughter falling out of your nose. You don't regret it. Your exes eyes twitch, not a single word. He storms off and bumps shoulders with yunho. Like a child, he stomps away.

You turn to Yunho, and notice you're both grinning. Soon a fit of laughter erupts from your throat and his. It's short lived. His hand falls off your shoulder, you miss the weight of his heavy hand. He takes a seat against the vanity, the light from the bulbs showcases his figure. Lean and tall, taking up the space with his big figure. You have to advert your eyes from staring. When he turns his head back to you. Even though you're done with your touch up, you can't seem to stand up out of your chair and move on.

Yunho's foot nudges your ankle, calling for your attention. You look up, crossing your arms subconsciously and force out a smile the best you can. The most naturally you can. “Are you okay?” His eyebrows crease in worry, his head lowering so you know he isn't demanding you to answer him. You clear your throat, shifting in the luxurious white chair. “Yeah, he sucks..” you laugh. Trying not to let it affect you. Trying. Is the key word. Your teeth wiggle your bottom lip, falling back into thought. Yunho ever so keenly notices your behavior. Squatting down in front of you. You jolt, leaning up to see what he's doing, before you can ask, he's tugging your shoe into his lap. Tying the laces delicately between his thin and long fingers. He never looks up, even as you try to tug away. “I'm not a kid” you huff, shaking your head at the thought of Yunho Bending his own extremely expensive pants to tie your shoe. You can hear the smile in his voice as he talks, “then how come you always forget?” When he finishes, he looks up. His hand unknowingly caresses the back of your ankle and calf.

You take a breath, fiddling your fingers together. “Forget what?” he laughs. Placing your foot back on the ground to check your other shoe. “Forget to tie your shoes” you gawk, “no I don't-” you attempt to pull your foot back, his fingers latch around your ankle. Smiling back up at you. Even though he's real, he looks unreal smiling up at you like some prince sliding your glass slipper on. “Yes, you do, remember during practice you used to always wear velcro shoes? Bet you didn't think I'd remember that-” “you remember what shoes I wore years ago?-” “you never wore laces, and when you did. I had to break formation to catch you when you'd trip over them." His breathy laugh has you smiling shamelessly.

“Honestly, it's like you were hoping I'd catch you” his finger comes up to push the hair out of his eyes, straightening out his bangs. He looks up at you from under them. Teeth on display thanks to his pretty smile. You fumble to say something. “no, I was just bad at taking care of my shoes,” you laugh, scratching at your eyebrow. Nice save. Knowing in reality he wasn't far off, or that most of the time you wore the same pair of velcro shoes for every practice. And when you began noticing they were gross compared to your members whose shoes seemed much better than yours, you'd exchange them for one of your other laced sneakers. Ashamed of the peeling fabric and the staining, and he was right, you were always bad at tying them properly.

“At Least you were there to catch me” you smile, watching him stand up to his full height. Shyly smiling back, as he looked away. “I'd always catch you,” his voice echos. Your dream-like fog begins to dissipate as the memory ends.

You wake up with your thighs stinging as if you just worked out your quads for an hour. Feeling like jelly and still tired. Atleast you're not still needy for a knot, whatever yunho did last night really dimmed down your heat. Or was it still too early for you to be in full bloom? The morning sun beams rays along your face and bed, waking you from your sleep. The only warmth you feel comes from your spot alone, and when you begin shifting around in your bed tangling out of the white blanket. You notice the bigger body you fell asleep next to isn't there anymore. Whining into the air sadly at the feeling of loss in your chest. Did yunho leave?

No, the running of water across the hall from your door catches your attention. The door which is now open is cracked almost all the way, you wait and watch. Jongho passes, too busy talking to the person behind him to notice you're awake. Mingi, equally distracted mumbles poutily to jongho whos harshly whispering in front of him. You’re too tired to move, and way too sluggish for things to register, just hoping to see yunho pass through the door. Quiet whispers flow down the hallway and meet your ears, cluttering of kitchen appliances and the beeping of the rice cooker makes you remember how easy it is to get lost in the morning buzz of the apartment.

Yunhos hand slots in from the corner of your eyes, he's still turned over his shoulder, talking to someone, wearing the same clothing from last night. Mumbles of whispers and discussion hanging in the air until his eyes flash back to you. Out of the spot he left you in and scratching at your shoulder. The indent of yunho's bite beginning to scab over. As if you hold the universe, yunhos shocked face makes you look up at him full of questions. His neck bobs as he swallows harshly, turning his head back to the figure just out of sight.

When he's done speaking he walks back into your room, and as soon as he reaches the end of the bed his hand greedily reaches over to smooth his palm against your waist, pulling you into his side with a gentle tug. You groan at the ache in your hips from the shift. Yunho apologetically smiles. Bare face on display from the sun. “Hey, how are you feeling?” he leans his palm against the pillow, half of his body leaning over you whilst he drapes his leg off the bed.

You watch his bare face and plump lips pull into a nervous grin. Needy, so needy. He's so pretty, so bare and so attentive. His hand fiddles with the edge of the shirt he gave you. The caress of his fingers there is so docile, like it's meant to be there. “I'm good” you sigh out, reaching for his waist to hold him. “sore,” you grin shyly. He huffs a laugh, “I know.. d'you need anything?” he lips fall open at the end of his question. You really can't help it, not when yunho is drawing you in and making you feel so special. “A kiss?” You speak clearly, just to him, looking up hopefully through parted lashes. Yunhos grin spreads, red tint rising to his ears. He doesn't have to say anything, his eyes fall over your mouth, folding himself down to plant the smooth taste of his minty toothpaste on your own lips.

He pulls back because of his wide smile, too giddy to keep going. You laugh “stop smiling, I'm trying to kiss you” your hand catches his cheek, awkwardly leaning up into him. “No, you” he snickers, his larger palm reaching your own cheek. He pet's his thumb across your lip, pecking you once again. Then once more. He pulls back before you go in for a third. Teasing you with a cheeky grin. “you have to eat something” he nods, but before he can get up and leave. You're reaching for the pocket of his sweats. Whining, pouting. “Don't go” you huff, laying your head back down on the pillows.

“I'll get hongjoong, okay?” He leans down to pick up your hand, kissing your knuckles. The mention of your captain, your other member- who you still don't know is okay with you calling him your boyfriend- makes you nod. You miss joong, even though he hasn't gone anywhere. He was sleeping. You crave the attention as soon as it's gone with yunho.

Slumped against the bed, you toss to lay on your back, pushing your messy-sweaty hair away. For a few seconds your eyes lazily pull back down, thighs squishing together. The click of your door shutting and the bed dipping has you jolting, coming back from your thoughts. Hongjoong is too occupied shuffling under the blanket to notice your face. And when he does, he's smiling ear to ear at the proximity of you. His hair is a mess, wearing a crochet purple crew neck that's too baggy, a pair of comfy black sweats. Much more dressed and put together than you at the moment. If he smells yunho on you, he must not care. His fingers thread through the back of your hair. Pulling your face into his so he can place giddy kisses all around your cheeks, nose, jaw. Everywhere.

Your lips pull back into a smile, giggling at the way he tickles your face with preppy kisses. His nose scrunches, loving the sound of your laugh. He lays a final deep kiss on your lips, one full of yearning and attention, and everything hongjoong is and more, missing the way you kiss up into him. “I missed you” you simply say when he pulls back. His eyes shift between yours. “I missed you more pretty girl” he sighs, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. Messy brown hair clouding around his eyes. He lays his head down comfortably on the pillow next to you, threading his fingers around your back to pull you closer.

“Did yunho take care of you?” his hand falls over your hip, rubbing patterns with the tip of his pointer finger. You nod, biting your lip. Memories of last night, flood you. Hongjoong hums softly, his soft dark eyes tracing your features. “he's a good alpha, ‘m proud of him.. You’re not too sore?” he smiles, a certain bite to his tone. You do as well, giddiness building in your stomach. “No, not too much” you nod, pushing your neck towards him, presenting your most sensitive spot. Docile, so docile. Hongjoongs lips fall there, kissing soothingly. “You did good ‘mega. Took yunho so well didn't you.” He whispers straight to you. Heavy lipped and nipping by your scent gland. You whimper and just like that you're a puddle in hongjoongs hands. He sits up to slot his hips between your own, pressing his weight down onto you.

“Be quiet for me okay? Can't have you telling everyone what we're doing”

The bulge of hongjoong in his loose pants has you gasping when it grinds over your clothed cunt. He pulls away from your neck after attacking it with suckling kisses and nips that'll turn into hickey's. Admiring his work. He grins. “So pretty” he sits back on his knees, the blanket leaves with him, leaving you unprotected. Your greedy hands reach up to grab him, stop him from staring down at you with his prying eyes, and when he captures them, interlocking your hands between his own to hold close to his chest, he leans forward and you take his plump lips between your own, biting on his bottom lip in appreciation from the plump of it. He sighs into your mouth, his hands parting from yours and digging down into your hips, lifting the hem of yunhos large shirt to trail his hot hands under. They smooth up, and stop just short of your ribcage.

You know the question, consent is the upmost important thing to hongjoong. “Please touch me joong” you tell him before he has the chance. Holding his face close to yours, he smiles, that shit eating grin he always has, the teasing one he uses to perform. Already, you can feel the damp spot in yunhos once clean briefs getting wet. “You want me to touch you where? Huh? Tell me where pretty girl.” he hums, and goodness is it exhausting being teased. You don't even want to say it, too impatient for words. You grab hongjoongs hands off your hip and rib cage, dragging them up and over your breasts just under your shirt. It pools at your collarbone, just under your chin.

“There, touch me there joong” you plead, eyebrows creasing. Hongjoongs hot palms knead into your tits, causing your nipples to pebble up from the friction. Oh so sensitive. Everything must be heightened by now, you want to be touched everywhere. Hongjoongs eyes heavily watch your expressions as he takes your left bud between his fingers and tugs. You yelp as quietly as you can manage, turning your head away. The snicker from joong makes you shy, like he's laughing at you. His head falls down, blowing over the sensitive bud between his right hand, when it pebbles, he takes it into his wet cavern, humming against it and suckling harshly. Not expecting it, your hips jut up from between his knees. Whimpering.

Hongjoong presses himself closer to you, slobbering over your tit and squeezing it with his large palm. He pulls off with a pop and plants kisses along the space around it, looking up at your slacked expression has his shorts tightening even more so. This is what he wanted when he got up that morning, when he figured out the smell of sex was coming from your room and the way yunho cuddled into you as you both napped. The brown haired male takes your other pretty bud into his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue. Your heat hadn't quite hit, it isn't until tomorrow, it's too early to tell though. And the smell of your soiled clothes in the laundry basket tells joong something definitely happened that involved your heat. You scent is addicting, it already had joong jolting into his fist in the bathroom. Too eager waiting for you to get up. He tugs with his teeth, suckling and swishing the pliable fat between his soft hands, your choked sob goes straight to his cock.

He can't take your noises anymore, or the way your hips won't stop wiggling under him. Grazing against his sensitive area unknowingly. He trails wet kisses down your stomach, when he reaches the top of the underwear that hides you away. He looks up for permission. Hongjoongs pretty eyes never fail to make you lose your breath, heaving. Chest glistening, you nod sloppily. An appreciated kiss is laid on your hip bone before he's tugging off yunho's briefs and tossing them to the side of his leg.

Cold air meets you as hongjoong throws your legs over his shoulders. His eyes scan your glistening core, kissing down your knee and thighs, as soon as he gets as close to where you want him. He bites into you, hard. You twitch, and whine, biting down on your tongue. The pulse of the spot has you aching as he kisses the hurt away. The next second his nose is pressing into you as his firm tongue falls out to lap up all the mess between your folds. A shuddered sigh knocks out of you. As he trails up, he takes your clit between his pink lips, sucking hard. Your thighs clench around his head. Bucking away at the overwhelming feeling. You can feel the grin forming on his face.

His palm pushes against your hip to get you to stop moving, tongue jutting out once more to lap your taste up. So sweet, and so dewy on the tip of his tongue. He swirls it around your nerves, groaning softly at the taste. You preen. “You're so wet” he mumbles, bumping his nose against you as he trails down to your hole, he blows a huff of air on it as he takes. Making you clench, “I could just put two in and it wouldn't hurt you're so wet, yeah? Think you could take two for me?” He looks up through his dark eyelashes, Bending your knees over his shoulders. Joongs thumb prods your bundle, catching you off guard from the tug of it as it digs into your clit in lazy swirls. You choke out a soft moan. “Words” he reminds you, nipping the skin by your knee, withholding your eyes in his hazy gaze.

“Yes, I can take two joong, I can do it-” you beg, and hongjoong has a hard time holding back his predatory smile. “Pretty girl, already falling apart, I haven't even done anything” his snicker has you feeling bullied. His head dips back in, his wet muscle coming out once again to replace his thumb, licking you. You're relishing in the slow build up, holding his hand over your hip. Panting out. Joongs finger prods at the tight ring of your entrance, twisting between the flutter of your walls and completely digging into you. You gasp at the first, pushing back against the second prod of hongjoongs ring finger. He hums over your clit, molding his tongue to the bud, his lips wrapping around it.

Hongjoong's getting pussy drunk. He's getting greedy feasting on you, his hips rut into the sheets, sparing him the feeling of the pent up need to release for only a couple of split seconds before he's digging it back down as soon as he hears how sloppy he's making you. At this rate, hongjoong might just cum in his pants, and he wouldn't care. Your pleasure is his pleasure. His fingers dip up, pushing and prodding for the spot that'll have you seeing stars. Memorizing how you react to every twist and pull, he sucks down on you, and huffs for air that has you tensing around his slender fingers. He wants to take his time to savor this. But he knows Yunho will be back with your food as soon as it's ready, Seonghwa said it'll be done in 15 minutes or less.

His fingers piston into the spot that catches your throat, his lips tugging around your bud, suckling and tugging like he's trying to milk you for your orgasm. It's almost there, coiling in your stomach and burning closer and closer. Your eyes are screwed shut, no longer able to stop the blurriness from overwhelmed tears crowding your lash line. Your hips twitch under his palm, digging you down into the mattress so you can't escape his tongue and fingers. As joong comes off you with a squelched pop, he blows air back on the bud. You buck, his thumb comes up to take his place, tight circles digging into your swollen clit.

“There you go,” Hongjoong says as a particularly hard clench squeezes his digits. “Must have been so horny to take yunho last night huh? you're still so tight on my fingers” he curls them as he mentions them. The sloppy noises of his extended fingers hitting around your hole has you hazing in and out of breath. “How'd you get him to fit?” He asks, humming into his words as if this was some normal conversation. You can't even respond. Twitching and pushing up into his particularly hard thrusting fingers that slap and echo in your ears. “Poor girl, needed a cock that bad you let him in without enough prep” he tsks.

Your orgasm builds and is so tantalizingly close, your head lulls to the side, pants and whines. Your hand digs into hongjoongs wrist, holding him as if that'll keep him there. His hand spreads so far across your hips that the slight push down has you feeling his fingers in your stomach. “Yunho told me how desperate you are, how good you were for him, now i know he was right” hongjoongs teasing tone has tears streaming down your face. You know he feels your heartbeat speed up and you clench, but when you meet that crossroad he stops stroking his thumb and has you falling back in a loop. “Not yet” he says this time, sighing into his words.

He pumps them in some more, the pool of your slick trailing down between his fingers and your thighs. There's so much, so much the sheet is wet. Your toes curl at the build up. This time, he continues. “told me you look so pretty when you cum” he whispers heavily, mouth falling open, watching his fingers disappear and reappear from your sopping hole.

“please, joong, please, please” you beg for your release. He pretends to think about it. Building you up again. So, so damn close. A slight moan comes from his throat, pleased at the gumminess of your walls. “Come on pretty girl, let me see” he gives you the go ahead, his teeth digging into his plump lip, his eyes finding your face and watching. That's all it takes for you to shake as you cum, digging down into the sheets with a strangled gasp. Your mouth falling open, legs twitching. Even your toes curl at how hard it hits you. His fingers never stop bullying you until you're shaking and trying to close your thighs. He pulls the out, then takes him in his mouth to clean them off. His eyes fluttered close, as if its some ice cream dripping from a cone that's cold on the taste buds. You're huffing pants loudly. So much so you have to close your mouth and try to breath out of your nose.

Giving you a second, Hongjoong lays a kiss on the top of your knee, then the other. He reaches next to him, and you realize he's grabbing yunhos briefs again. Pulling them back up your legs. The fabric sticks to your center. You pout at the feeling behind close lids. He pulls the blanket back over him like a cape, kissing gently up your stomach before pulling your shirt back over you. Helping you seem more put together. He smiles as if he didn't do anything at all when he pulls you to lay over him. Swiping the drying tears off the side of your eyes. He kisses each side of your cheek where they fell. Lovingly, gently. Much more softer than he was seconds ago. He peppers a kiss down your nose and lands it on your lips. “You didn't get to finish” you pout, he lays his head down next to yours. His lips falling into a small grin. “That one was for you” he takes your fingers between his, kissing each of the tips of them and down your wrist.

“But-” you pout, his eyes pull up into a smile. “so greedy” he laughs, kissing your nose again. Fingers fiddling with yours over his chest. “There's no time for it pretty girl, someone might walk in on us” he hums, grinning so cheerily. Your head falls over his shoulder, embarrassed. His lips lay over your forehead. His right hand coming up to rub against your back. Soothing yunhos creasing shirt down. Although that fuzziness isn't returning. You think you've got atleast another hour thanks to hongjoongs prying hands.

As if on cue. Yunhos head pops in through the door, when he pushes it open, seonghwas right behind him holding a tray. They must be the only ones to know you're awake, because all the sudden, the thumping of the guys rushing into the hallway make you realize you're awake and coherent and they're most likely coming to check up on you.

Hongjoong laughs at the sound as if this is some goofy cartoon, sitting up along with you. Seonghwa dips the platter on the bed, sliding it to you when he takes a criss crossed seat on the end. Smiling gently. “Hi hwa” you greet, wrapping your arms around him over the tray, you can't help it. You plant a kiss on his cheek. He beams, patting your hip and looking back down at the tray to make sure it didn't spill. Pancakes and an array of sausages, fruits. A meal fit for a goddess. Compared to easy snacks and reheatable meals you had for your first heat- this is heaven on your bed. You feel so very greatful. “thank you” you reach for his hand. Squeezing it gently. He smiles, shyly looking down.

You finish the last of your food. Syrup still sticking to the corner of your lips. Joong had gotten up to stop the fighting of yunho and the guys, taking your tray with you. Yunho had stepped back to fight off the rest of the crew, like he was your protective shield whilst you ate, you can still hear wooyoung, mingi, and san whining. Seonghwa took his seat in joongs spot, too far away from you. You have to scoot up over to him for him to get what you're doing. He meets you halfway. Looking you over.

“You don't smell like sex” you cough. Sputtering, covering your mouth with your hand so you're not accidentally spitting on him. Seonghwa laughs, plump lips pulled into a smile over his cheeks. “Hongjoong said give him a few minutes so..” he nodded in thought, pinching his fingers together over his lap. “for some reason i don't think hongjoong can finish that fast,” is your face on fire? You're so very warm with seonghwas casual words.

“I finish that fast” you spurt out. God, are you digging yourself a hole to die in? Seonghwa looks the least bit shocked, if not somewhat happy at your words that have you internally crying from embarrassment. “Then you're well taken care of.” he nods, taking your hand in his. “yeosang’s running a bath for you. Should be ready.” he intertwines your hands in his, fingers spreading over yours. Hwas other thumb reaches to swipe the syrup from the corner of your mouth, popping it into his after to suck off the residue. Oof- as if that's not equally as sexy as hwa is.

“Let's get you cleaned up angel”

A/n; I'm so sorry. (Nu-uh). this is posted as soon as I tag n all that jazz so I can sleep when it goes out ☺️ I spent all night writing this(I'm a whore) and I had to step away a few times to collect myself. Gifs are edits, I turn them into gifs/edit gifs (ily editors!) Comments push my motivation, thank you all,, muwah. P.s would yall be upset if seonghwa had an oppa kink(theres proof I'm p sure help)

Taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg (thank you all! If the tag isn't working, or u changed ur user, please let me know ♥︎)

#ateez ot8 x reader #ot8 x reader #ateez a/b/o au #x reader #ateez x female reader #ateez yeosang #ateez hongjoong #polyamarous #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez yunho #ateez seonghwa #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #a/b/o #ateez ot8 #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #jongho x reader #san x reader #yunho x reader #wooyoung x reader #yeosang x reader #mingi x reader #seonghwa x reader #9th member of ateez #deep down #kpop x reader #seventhcallisto #a/b/o au

[ickadori]

++ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 — 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

↳ Choso is still unfamiliar with the more human way of doing things, but he is trying, so you can’t fault him too much when his actions resemble that of a curse rather than a human. VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

[cws] yandere. stalking. chikan. mild violence. fem reader. i’ve taken creative liberties and made it so that choso can choose when he’s visible to humans thanks to being half-curse, half-human :3 reader is american.

Right and wrong is not something that Choso concerns himself with - he simply does what he pleases.

It’s not in the sense of him thinking that he’s above human laws (he is) and can therefore ignore them, but rather that he’s not familiar with them.

Yuji has told him time and time again about what is and is not acceptable, but it just hasn’t clicked in his head yet. In the rare times that he shows himself to humans, he always finds himself breaking some type of rule, law, or societal norm, as Yuji tells him.

“You can’t walk so close to people, Choso - they’ll think you’re a pervert or something!”

“I don’t care if she smelt good - you can’t sniff her like a dog!”

“Put your dick away! That’s not a bathroom! You can’t piss there!”

“No, Choso! You can’t kill somebody just because the line is too long!”

Humans were bound by so many rules, it was annoying. Choso found himself staying hidden more often than not, choosing to observe the people around him rather than taking more ‘lessons on humanity’ from his younger brother—Yuji was a big help, don’t get him wrong, but Choso didn’t feel right taking lessons from his younger sibling. Choso was the oldest, the one meant to protect and teach his younger brothers (something he had failed to do on two occasions, as he so painfully remembers every day), and if he didn’t know it, then it was his duty to learn it on his own.

The regular people of Japan, the ones who were terribly unfit to defend themselves (it’d be a hassle trying to protect them - he’s glad they’re not his siblings), were incredibly boring. Majority of them only worked and slept, some occasionally getting drunk at some hole-in-the-wall bar before stumbling home and passing out in the living room.

Choso preferred watching the not-so-regular people of Japan, the ones who led a life that Yuji always turned his nose up at, but Choso didn’t think they were so bad. They do what they want, what’s so wrong with that, he always asked. They didn’t let rules shape their actions or let laws turn them into a completely different person - they were simply them, and Choso found it admirable, in a way.

He watched men cloaked in black skulk around alleyways looking for a target to rob, women dressed in skimpy clothing slipping into cars only to slip out a few moments later with blood on their cleavage, teenagers walking into stores with no money yet walking out with pockets stuffed full of snacks and drinks, men in suits exchanging briefcases full of drugs and money, truck drivers transporting living, breathing humans adorned in chains - the dregs of society as so many called them.

He watched them sparingly, only when he grew bored of the mundane lives of everyone else, everyone else except for you, of course.

Choso had been watching you ever since he first began this poor attempt to assimilate into Yuji’s world. You lived a boring, plain, safe life, but he found himself interested nonetheless. You were an office worker, one with a funny accent that he learned was American. You liked to read and occasionally write, and you went on walks in the park on the weekend and took pictures of the scenery. You didn’t drink and you didn’t smoke but all your friends did. You had a library card that you lost on a monthly basis. You had an unhealthy addiction to carbonated drinks. You hated going to the dentist. You avoided stepping on the cracks in sidewalks. You desperately wanted a pet but your lease forbade you from getting one.

These were the boring, mundane details of your life. Nothing exciting, nothing noteworthy, and yet Choso had memorized it all.

You were on your way home from work now, unaware of Choso’s presence behind you. He was close - close enough to breathe in the scent of your signature perfume and take a peek down the top of your button down. Even your bra was boring, a dull gray that covered you fully, and an annoyed pout formed on his face before he turned his attention to the phone in your hand.

You were checking your banking account, likely making sure that you had enough for your daily sweet treat and tea from your favorite shop. It turns out that you don’t have enough, but he already knew that. You didn’t get paid until tomorrow, and you had used the last bit of your money on a recurring subscription that you had forgotten to cancel.

You sigh under your breath before dropping your phone into your purse, and Choso falls into step beside you, the rest of the journey to the train station going by uneventfully, as usual.

~

It’s a new day, and the same routine.

There’s a couple that steps onto the train before the both of you, their hands intertwined and the woman’s head nuzzled against the man's arm. Physical affection was another thing that Choso wasn’t familiar with.

Even if majority of his life hadn’t been spent locked away in a sealed vial, it wasn’t in his nature to be gentle with his hands - they were tools to protect what was dearest to him, and the only way he knew how to do that was to kill whatever threatened what was closest to him.

Although he wasn’t sure if you would appreciate that in this moment - you were squeamish when it came to blood, funnily enough, and he doubted he could kill the man standing behind you without making a mess.

“Tch.” Choso hovers near you, his eyes taking in the scene. You’re on your morning commute to work, dressed in the white button down he watched you press this morning, and a black pencil skirt that stuck to you like glue - it had been amusing watching you shimmy into it, stumbling around your room and cursing as you threw worried glances at the digital clock on your nightstand.

You were dressed identical to every other woman on this train -your hair was even in a similar updo- and yet the man—the pervert as Yuji would have called him—had singled you out in the overcrowded place. He stood behind you, closely, and Choso leaned to peer around your shoulder, lip lifting in annoyance when he sees the man’s crotch pushed against the swell of your ass.

The act itself doesn’t bother him, but rather that you’re the one the man chose to enact it on. He likely wouldn’t have batted an eye had the man chosen one of the other women to feel on, but the sight of someone touching you had never failed to invoke a feeling of intense hatred in Choso.

He didn’t like it, and he made it known when he moved to stand behind the man. He settled a heavy on his shoulder, his energy dark, thick and heavy as it nearly filled all the corners of the train car - an embodiment of the anger swirling in his gut. The man jolts and looks back over his shoulder, seeing nothing but perhaps a murky, dark substance. His hand grips hard, and the crunch that sounds followed by the pained wail doesn’t do much to quell that anger.

He had touched you, someone that Choso was closely coming to regard as important, and there was only one way that could right this wrong, but that would have to wait until the number of people around were low. Too many eyes were never good, and Choso had studied humans enough to know that their first instinct was to run to the police when they saw a body drop before their eyes.

With a shove to the side, the man is thrown halfway across the car, and a cacophony of shouts sound off as he goes tumbling. You spin around, eyebrows pulled together and mouth set in an angry line, and Choso feels that strange human urge to comfort surge forth.

You cast a glare to the man, your hands moving to hitch your bag higher up your shoulder, and you keep your back to the door, likely in an attempt to keep that from happening again…what’s it called again? He’s seen this scenario play out before in one of Yuji’s books that he tries and fails to keep a secret.

Ch…chi…chikan, train molestation.

His brother is a pervert, without a doubt, but he supposes that works in his favor. The magazine had piqued his interest, firstly because Yuji had gone to great lengths to stuff it into the back of his closet underneath a set of his college textbooks, and secondly because it housed a taboo of society, and the taboo is what interested Choso these days.

He had read it in its entirety, and then had tried to witness it himself. He had spent hours hanging around the station, going in and out of cars and maneuvering between bodies to try and catch a glimpse of the depraved act, yet he came up with nothing, until today that is.

And what a letdown that had been.

His mouth pulls down at the sides, and he gives you a slow once over. He starts at neatly done hair, moves down to sculpted brows that frame glossy eyes, then to a nose that he wouldn’t mind feeling against his own, and down to a set of lips that he finds himself thinking about more and more these days.

He goes further down, down to the way your shirt stretches across your breasts, the buttons straining just a bit, and he tilts his head to the side, a new type of feeling now festering in the pit of his stomach.

Your hands clasp together in front of you, the movement forcing your chest to jut out a bit more, and when the train curves around a bend, Choso lets gravity move him closer to you, head angled down. You tense just a bit, and your senses must be a bit better than everyone else’s, or maybe he’s just doing a poor job at concentrating on concealing himself.

You push yourself a bit further into the corner, and he further crowds you into it, a spark of excitement running up his spine — prey. That’s what you remind him of in this moment as you cower in the corner from a threat you can’t see. He wants to sink his teeth into you—no, his hands. He wants to touch you and squeeze you all over, sink his fingers into soft flesh and leave his mark behind.

So he does.

Tentatively, at first.

The tips of his fingers hover near your cheek, casting a shadow that you’re unable to see, and his breathing grows labored when he finally touches you - it’s shocking, literally. You jump as you feel it, and Choso frowns. He hasn’t learned about the grand thing called static, so in his mind, his mind that was locked away and kept rudimentary for so long, this shock upon first contact signified something monumental…something visceral.

You press further against the wall, brows furrowing as your hand moves up to rub at your cheek, and Choso moves down to the slope of your neck, fingers running along the throbbing vein, racing pulse, and then he’s rubbing at your collarbones. You’re warm just like him, but where he’s hard you’re soft - soft, doughy, fragile.

His hands settle on your breasts, one in each palm, and he squeezes. Oh. You frown deeper, your eyes dropping to where his hands are groping, but you don’t see. He’s right up on you now, head angled down and jaw slack as he tests the weight in his hands - they’re a nice size, a good size. Your nipples get hard under his hand, and he rubs against it with his thumb - your bra is so thin.

He thinks back to that book and what he had read in it, images of the debauchery floating to the front of his mind, and his mouth runs dry at the thought of doing those things to you. He had never thought about sexual gratification, much less craved it, but he felt as if he had been subconsciously seeking it out all his life and he had finally found it.

His breath is practically coming out in pants, matching the rapid thumps of his heart. He traps your nipples between his fingers and squeezes. You suck in a sharp breath of air, eyes darting around at the other passengers who don’t pay you much attention - they’re all warily looking at the man still moaning in pain as he sags in a corner and clutches at his shoulder.

Choso squeezes again, and he knows it’ll feel better if he was touching you skin on skin, but he’s certain you wouldn’t take kindly to him scattering your shirt buttons all over the floor of the train and leaving your bra in tatters so he pushes that thought away for later - maybe for when you’re curled under your blankets at night and in a deep, deep sleep.

The maddening ache in his pants would have taken him by surprise a few months ago, but Choso has gotten pretty acquainted with his body with the help of a few snagged medical books and Yuji’s laptop (which was still an enigma to Choso at times).

Both of his hands leave your breasts to instead push at his pants, the baggy material easily slipping down toned, lean thighs until they pool around his booted ankles.

His cock is pale but noticeably darker at the tip, and there’s a long, prominent vein that starts at the center of his shaft and disappears into black, coily pubes. His cock has never been able to stand up properly, weighted down by the sheer size, so it hangs between his thighs, thick and heavy, identical to his desire for you.

He wraps a hand around his turgid length, hissing through his teeth as he does, and pushes closer. You don’t move a muscle, standing stock-still as you try and fail to make sense of all these ‘phantom’ sensations.

If they were able, he’s sure your knuckles would have long since turned white with how hard you’re clutching onto the purse that’s now cradled against your chest. Your thighs shift together, inadvertently making your skirt rise a bit, heels noisily clinking against the platform of the car as you shuffle, and Choso spreads his legs and bends at the knees, a heaving breath leaving him as he slots his cock right through the opening between your thighs that you so graciously left.

The tights clinging to your thighs are smooth and silky, and coupled with the heat of your skin that perforates through, Choso feels himself jerk and twitch at the feeling. It’s leagues better than his hand, and his mind is already spinning at the thought of how you’ll feel on the inside.

His hand comes down heavy against the door beside your head, and you flinch as your head whips to the side to look, eyebrows furrowing when you notice the large handprint on the glass. His other hand curls around the pole to the left of you, hand gripping it so tight that he can feel the steel denting underneath his grip, and he rocks his hips, slowly.

Warm, soft, squishy, the adjectives flit through his mind one after the other, a new one coming with each push of his cock between your thighs. He’s hot all over, skin burning and strands of black plastering themselves to his damp face. His balls are tight, and his left eye twitches when a soft sound escapes your mouth, a look of bewilderment on your face.

He comes, hard. His orgasm locks all his muscles up and makes his teeth snap together so hard they nearly shatter. His eyes roll back, the pole caves in under the pressure of his grip, the window beside your head shatters as his hand goes through it, and he makes a split second decision to show himself in an effort to shield you from the hail of glass.

Choso can nearly see the scream of fright that gets caught in your throat at his sudden appearance, and a grin that lacks remorse twists onto his lips. Your bugged eyes slowly trail down, and the scream finally un-lodges itself when you catch sight of his softening length and the mess it’s left on your clothing.

Choso hides himself once again and steps off at the next station as he fixes his clothing. You stumble off as well, frantically heading towards the security booth as your eyes dart around to catch sight of him.

Soon, he thinks.

He’d let you see him again soon enough.

#choso x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

[scorpioracha]

Dating Yoongi

We've finally got the dating Yoongi headcanons!! I'm sorry it took so long but boy is it lengthy so strap in. this is not proofread and im fucking exhausted so edits to be done eventually. if you enjoy reblog, like and leave a comment. cw: does contain smut and one kys moment

Your meet cute with Yoongi ended up being more of a meet awkward than anything. It was 3am at one of the many random convenience stores in Gangnam and you were exhausted, exhausted and hungry. You were doing a year in Seoul for your major and the timezones were really fucking you up. Puffy sleepy eyes,glasses on and a sleep mask resting on your forehead made quite the picture.

It was also quite the picture when you ran into a rack of honey butter chips and wiped out on the floor.

Full wipeout.

Legs up,gravity turned on its head wiped out.

Thankfully the only thing wounded was your pride, but you kinda wished you knocked yourself out so you couldn’t see the handsome man towering over laughing so hard his eyes practically disappeared and a gummy smile on his face. He had a cup of ice and one of those americano packets balanced in one hand and a helmet dangling in his other.

“...chana?”

“Huh?”you said in a daze. 

“Gwaenchana?”he purred in a low rumble. He looked at your lost expression and sucked in a breath.

“Are you okay?”It was a little clunky and half mumbled but you didn’t want to put this man through any more mental torment so you nodded quickly.

“Ne, na gwaenchana!”you replied and quickly scrambled to your feet, almost falling once again because your ankle decided now was the time to roll. He quickly reached out and steadied you, looking at you with so much bewilderment the whole situation felt comical. He looked at the hand that still rested on your arm and quickly pulled it away, you swear you saw his pale cheeks turn pink.

“Um…”he rumbled, looking at you with weary eyes. “stay”

You nodded with wide eyes as you watched this random man run around the convenience store and come back with a juice box and a random red pouch. He looked at you and held up each one.

“Bae juice”

He held up the red pouch. “Hong sam jelly for sukchwi…one moment”

He pulled out his phone and typed quickly. He held the phone to his ear and hummed.

“For hangover”he said, pointing to the two items again. Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly. You weren’t drunk. He definitely misinterpreted the situation and just smiled, giving you a smile and waving goodbye before disappearing into the night.

And what do you do when a pretty man buys you pear juice and ginseng jelly in a foreign country?

You fucking c o n s u m e it.

And the next morning when you woke up late to your 8:00am lecture, you just blamed the crazy night because wow what the fuck happened.

You spent the rest of your classes thinking about that handsome stranger. Maybe you did hit your head because WHY didn’t you ask for his name or his katalk? You could have done the whole ‘oh handsome young man, I need to pay you back’ kinda schtick but your brain decided to cosplay the very first windows computer and blue screen the minute you looked at him. stupid.

“Stupid” you groaned, trudging back to your dorm. You had been blessed—got accommodations—for a single room so it was just you and your twin sized 

Oh yeah, and your pining. 

Couldn’t forget about your pining.

You needed a drink. A good drink,some good food and some cartoons to get your mind off this random man. Within minutes you had a bottle of soju and a hefty platter of tteokbokki on the way. Maybe you’d go out for bingsu sometime this week with the girls from your lecture. They were sweet and treated you just like anyone else despite the racial and cultural differences, doting on you as their new maknae and always making sure you ate between classes. It was nice to be looked out for so thoroughly, especially when you were so far away from home. You pulled your phone out to text them when you got a notification that your delivery driver was already on the way.

Huh. they were already earning themself a tip. You stood eagerly by the door waiting and even though you were watching the app like a hawk, you jumped when the doorbell rang and scrambled to open it.

“Gamsahab-”you looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes. “...-nida”

“Soju?”he raises his brow in a way that says ‘again?’. You felt your face grow hot and shook your head rapidly. He just smirked and handed over your takeout bags.

Once again you fucked up,blanked and forgot to ask for his name.

 Damn pretty boy with his pretty eyes and his stupid smile.

It was months before you had seen him again. 

Time heals all wounds and you began to move on. You hung out more with your friends, went to karaoke,saw the sights of Seoul and slowly but surely felt yourself moving on.

It was on a rainy day in May where you found yourself at your usual convenience store. The weather went from sunny skies to torrential downpour within minutes and you had just gotten your hair done. You were looking for an umbrella but found yourself in the snack aisle. 

Blame it on the wind.

What you didn’t expect to find in the snack aisle were seven men bickering. 

You kinda just stood like 🧍🏾‍♀️ until one of them finally turned and god he was stunning 

“Yah, Yoongi-yah!! Move and let this lady through!”

The ‘Yoongi’ in question quickly scooted out of the way, mumbling about how they were all in the way. 

That mumble…

“Yoongi..”you whispered before you could even stop yourself. His gaze snapped up and for once you caught him off guard. His eyes flitted over you rapidly and his mouth opened and shut like a nutcracker.

“Soju girl,”he whispered. Then the moment was lost.

"na iroumi aniya(that’s not my name)” you huffed in annoyance. You know there was an honorific you were supposed to use somewhere in that sentence but your point still stood.

“You speak Korean”another boy said and god he was tall.

“Yes I speak Korean”you said, tilting your head up at him.

“Hyung, you said soju girl couldn’t speak Korean!”a voice laughs. You squint your eyes at this Yoongi who seemingly wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He stared at you like he had seen a ghost actually which wasn’t making things much better. The tall boy sighed and took a step forward, bowing even. 

“I apologize for my hyung,”he said solemnly. “He’s usually not this dumb. I’m Kim Namjoon and these are my bandmates. What’s your name?”

You smiled and returned the bow, happy to finally have some familiarity, both language and warmth.

“I’m y/n”you said. “I think me and your hyung have some catching up to do”

Yes, to say it was a meet awkward was the nicest way to put it.

It was a fucking train wreck of events if you were being completely honest.

You had exchanged info with Namjoon seeing as he spoke the most English and was the only one who didn’t 👁️👄👁️ at you which was nice and had quickly become good friends with one another.

Seeing that their leader liked you, the rest of the boys quickly followed suit and you suddenly had a much bigger friend group than you could even imagine.

Yoongi had become a lot more reserved in a way that was off putting to say the least. You’d only ever spoken to him twice before but there was something off.

you’d asked Namjoon about it during one of your study/music/kill each other from frustration sections and he just shrugged mumbling something about ‘hyung being busy’ 

you rolled your eyes and grabbed your stuff to find out yourself. That’s what you get for asking a dumbass.

Yoongi had been exactly where you’d expect him to be, crammed into one of the practice rooms with his headphones and laptop.

“Yoongi,” you said, tapping on his shoulder. He spun around in a startle and looked at you with a relieved sigh.

“Oh god”he breathed out, “I thought you were one of the maknae begging for food”

You couldn’t help but to smile, all the prior annoyance melting out of your pores and back to the depths of hell where they belonged. Talking to Yoongi was easy, that is when he was still talking to you.

“How do you know I'm not begging for food?”you smirked, taking a seat on the lumpy couch.

“Well, are you?”he asked, raising a brow. You shook your head and leaned back into the couch.

“You’re off the hook”you said, “but I do have a question” “Which is?” “Why have you been avoiding me lately?”

The room grew silent enough you could hear a pin drop. Cornered was the only way you could describe Yoongi. His shoulders scrunched up and he seemed to fold in on himself.

“No reason,”he said plainly.

Your eyes narrowed.

“So you have been avoiding me?”

His eyes widened.

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”you asked. Your patience was wearing thin and your heart was racing something ugly.

“I was trying to give you space”

“Space for what? I didn’t ask for space!”you snapped.

“Space for you and Namjoon!”he snapped back, folding his arms over his chest.

“Me and Namjoon?”you gagged. “The last thing me and Namjoon need is space, please collect your dongsaeng cause he won’t leave me alone!”

“Well he’s your boyfriend!”Yoongi threw back.

Huh.

“Huh?!”You shrieked. 

“It doesn’t take a genius to find out,”Yoongi continued, rolling his eyes. “So you can drop the naive act”

“Naive act—Yoongi, you think I'm dating Namjoon?”you asked. You felt like you were going to be sick. Namjoon wasn’t bad by any means, he was just so older brother coded it was disgusting.

“I don't think, I know,”he said. “You guys spend all your time together,you go on dates,you take naps together; it’s obvious”

“Well since you’re such a genius”You said, “How come you couldn’t tell that i’m in love with you?”

Huh.

“Huh?”he said, spinning around in his chair to fully face you. You ran a hand over your face and honest to god laughed.

“Idiots”you said in disbelief. “You’re all idiots”

“Hey-”

“I've been pining over you for months and this whole time you think i’ve been dating Namjoon”you said, shaking your head.

“You’ve been what?”Yoongi said. 

“Crushing on you”you emphasized, “You idiot”

“i..I don’t know what to say,”he said. You sighed and fully leaned back against the chair, feeling all the blood rush to your head from your bold confession. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“You can let me down gently for starters”you chuckled humorlessly.

“Let you down—what are you talking about?”he asked.

“Just reject me already!”You exclaimed, waving your hands frantically. You felt like a madwoman.

“Why would I reject you?”his eyebrows furrowed.

You were going to be sick.

“I’m going to be sick”you laughed, running your hands over your face and god were you crying?

“Why are you crying?”he rumbled softly, leaning in and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You just laughed harder, but that ended up turning into a sob because you were so tired. You weren’t expecting a fairytale but this wasn’t the turn you thought today would take. You felt yourself being pulled closer and you knew you should pull away, you knew better. It was all too much and he would just hurt you, but his hoodie smelled like coffee. His hoodie smelled like coffee and his hands were warm as they wrapped around you. You always wondered if he ran hot or cold, but he was neither; Yoongi was pleasantly warm. His hand had somehow wriggled between the two of you and rested on your cheek, rubbing the streaks where your tears trailed. His breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm and for a moment you felt weighless.

“What a mess, huh?”he mumbled, tracing his thumb over your temple. “I went and made all these assumptions…because I was afraid to say I love you”

“You love me?”you whispered. 

“Mm”he rumbled in affirmation. “You didn’t know?”

“No”you said, keeping your voice low, scared if you spoke too loud, the moment would disappear.

“I thought I was being obvious,”he said.

“I thought I was being obvious,”you said. You pulled your head back to look at Yoongi and that gummy smile was on full display.

“We’re both idiots”

Actually dating Yoongi went much smoother than the confession process.

In the early days, the two of you spent a lot of time in the genius studio doing parallel play, you’d work on your assignments and he would work on music. 

Obviously with many interruptions from the maknae line + hoseok, occasionally being prodded by Seokjin and Namjoon to eat,drink and get fresh air

Y’all needed to touch grass and they were sick of it

Being so close to the band in their early days formed an immeasurable bond between you all

But it also lead to a lot of sacrifices on your part that you weren’t prepared to make. 

There was the obvious like no posting about the boys on social media,nda’s up the wazoo,etc. This was all expected and you were willing to do so.

What you weren’t prepared for was how cruel the kmedia could truly be. You weren’t from here, you were a foreigner and that already put a target on your back. The fact that you weren’t thin or pale didn’t help one bit either. 

Thankfully, the boys and Yoongi reassured you in private. Namjoon did damage control and argued with the company to do more on your behalf, while Jimin and the maknae stood by your side like bodyguards wherever you went in silent solidarity. You were never alone. Jin dropped you off at university in the morning, along with Jungkook. Scolding the two of you to have a good day and to eat something that wasn’t chips. Naturally, Jungkook would bring you back once your classes were done and continued to gripe that even though he was older than you, he was still stuck in highschool.

You still hold this over his head to this date.

So thankfully, you had support. Support that if you didn’t have you weren’t sure where you would be honestly. It really felt like you all had become a little family, and being so far from home that was something you desperately needed.

Once the group got larger and was in a more stable position you better believe they all stopped holding their tongues, especially Yoongi. He could be a little hard to read at times but you were not expecting him to be getting himself into full on twitter wars on a burner account over you 💀

“Yoongi stop telling people to kill themselves”

“No”

Being in love with Yoongi felt easy, it was natural. He continued to take care of you in little ways whether it was packing your lunch,giving you transit fare or rubbing your temples when you were tired and falling asleep on him.

Our mans is definitely about that acts of service life. He loves quietly.

Pda made him want to die just a little inside but he wasn’t opposed to holding your hand. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide anyways, you guys were already public. 

He wasn’t the jealous type and although he’d never admit it, he loved how much you and the boys love each other. He’s got a bunch of pictures on his phone of you just in the dorms being domestic. You spent more time there than you did in your own dorm room.

 So although he doesn’t say it often, he shows it with every part of his being. The way his eyes sparkle when he sees you in the morning, his proud smile in your graduation photos. It also made his heart flutter that you got his dry humor and you dished it right back to him, smack in the middle of the maknae line teasing him and Jin about being old.

And when you learned Daegu Satoori from Taehyung to surprise him? Namjoon had to hold him back from proposing on the spot. And to think he ever thought you and Namjoon were dating.

Yoongi bits ✨tid bits about you and yoongi ✨

Yes Yoongi genuinely thought you were drunk and he wasn’t flirting(he got that nuerodivergent rizz)

When Yoongi told you the mint hair wasn’t real and washed it out you cried 🧍🏾‍♀️

You guys have two apartments together, one near Hybe and one in Daegu. You both prefer the apartment in Daegu because that means Holly gets to stay with you guys.

Everytime a new design for shooky it mysteriously appears in the apartment.

You guys have two cats per your request(a white one named sugar and a black one named gloss) the things Yoongi does for love

You guys have been happily engaged for the past year and he proposed in the most unromantic way possible 

NSFW

Baby, Yoongi is a switch with a capital S

Now I have never met a non kinky neurodivergent person and Yoongi is no exception. He enjoys a good power dynamic and has definitely explored kink in the past with previous partners so he’s experienced.

 But Yoongi does occasionally just like to fuck, no rules no dynamics. Just vanilla sex

He’s a lot softer than his image and he honestly likes the separation between the two for his own sanity. The fans think he’s this no nonsense hardass, but he’d much rather praise and reward you than dole out punishments.

He’s a softie at heart and finds a bit of bratty behavior to be cute so you can definitely get away with a lot. Not to say he’s a complete pushover but he definitely will let a good amount of back talk slide before he puts you in your place. It's almost infuriating how calm he is if you’re the type that brats in hopes of a punishment. He’ll just look at you and laugh about how cute you’re being before returning back to whatever he was doing.

It’s pretty hard to tick him off but also not impossible, the easiest way to get him to snap is to mess with him in the studio; especially if he has a deadline coming up. That's how you end up on your knees crammed under his desk not even allowed to suck his dick but just sit there and keep it warm while he works. The condescending mumbles and coos he lets out while stroking your head is enough to send you careening straight into subspace. “Just needed something in your mouth, huh?”he’d purr and gently drag his nails across your scalp

Tongue technology. We all know about it, but you get to experience this first hand at your beck and call. Yoongi is the first one to admit you’re spoiled and when you’re not being a brat, all you have to do is ask and he’ll be in between your legs. He could and has spent hours down there teasing your folds and giving you orgasm after orgasm until you can’t take it anymore.

Somnophilia. This is a kink that goes both ways for you guys but honestly he finds it really hot when you take what you need from him. Waking up groggy in the middle of the night to you fucking yourself on his cock is one of the quickest ways to get Yoongi whining and gripping the sheets. Bonus points if you tie his hands up or cuff them to the bed posts.

He’s not really a fan of quickies and prefers to take his time, but he’s not opposed to shoving you into a closet and getting you off on his fingers if you’re getting needy. He just wants to take care of his girl.

Speaking of his hands, they end up around your throat and in your mouth quite often. Whether you’re sucking or gagging on them, Yoongi makes good on this little fixation and makes sure you get your fill.

He’s down to being pegged. Somebody had to say it guys,🗣️ Yoongi wants something up his ass ‼️

Whether you have him bent over a table or you’re tied up and he’s riding you, Yoongi does enjoy penetration and he’s not ashamed of it. He likes how dazed and pliant you get when he’s bouncing on your strap all flushed and pink and whining. it’s a rush to his head and sends him over the edge faster than he can get a hand on himself.

He’s a fan of cozy aftercare and pillow talk. After you’ve both cleaned up and the bed is moderately clean, he’s off in the kitchen getting snacks and water so you two can cuddle and recap what you liked and disliked. He gets really affectionate after he cums so it usually dissolves into him mumbling praises and kissing all over your face before falling asleep.

All in all Yoongi is the best boy.

#yoongi headcanons #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #Yoongi smut #bts headcanons #bts hard thoughts #bts hard hours #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #bts min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #yoongi drabble #min yoongi

[russellsppttemplates]

Omg I’m a little bit tipsy just now but could we have like tipsy reader and sober dad driver at a party and the kids are loving it cause mums letting them get McDonald’s in the way home

Note: being tipsy is the best way to be drunk (I hope that makes sense without making me look weird), and especially when it's beer tipsy! 👀

Cw: reader is tipsy!

"Off you go, darling, I'll make sure the kids are strapped in!", George said as he made sure you were buckled in and safely inside the car with your belongings.

The party was for one of your good friends and you had a blast. Whether it was the constant drinks being offered, the fact that George said he'd drive you and the kids home or the fact that, after having three babies, your metabolism changed, you found yourself a little bit tipsy. So far, the kids just thought you were extra funny as they missed you grabbing some water for the way.

"McDonald's is open 24 hours, isn't it?", you mused as George turned the blinker on, "I think is is, darling, do you want it?", he asked.

"I knew there was a reason why I married you", you smiled as you turned around to you could face the kids, "do you want some McDonald's, my loves?", you asked as they cheered.

"Really? We are going to McDonald's right now?", Olivia was the first to question it as Arthur hit her thigh, whispering "she said we would, don't make her change her mind", he hissed.

"Yes, what do you want in your happy meals?", you asked around, everyone suggesting all the foods they'd like to have, "you need to be careful with your tummies because we do have to go to bed when we get home", you warned.

"You should be careful, too, Y/N", George said softly, "you were never a light weight and I doubt you'd like to become one over the toilet tonight", you husband giggled as you smiled at him.

As George pulled up to the drive-through, claiming "this group is not ready to be seen in public" after you tried to recall the orders of all the kids to tell George as if he wasn't listening like you were, you waited patiently for the line to move, "it's amazing how fast they make the food, it would take me longer to make pasta and that's the quickest thing I can cook", you pursed your lips, "you're the best, George, right, loves? Daddy is the best, right?", you asked.

Will let out a squeal, "the best, but you are too, mummy!", he smiled cheekily.

"It's going to be so good!", Arthur clapped, "and we can share the nuggets", he suggested.

"Sounds lovely, buddy", you smiled at them through the rear view mirror.

Letting kids have McDonald's way into the night grants you extra mummy points as it seems.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#george russell blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[gremlingottoosilly]

Your ride is here (dark!Ghoap x fem!Reader)

CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation I really really adore @ohbo-ohno and @ceilidho for their amazing takes on writing dark fics with Ghoap and fem!Readers Word count: 3794 AO3

You were already way too drunk when you got out of the bar. It was an annoyingly loud party, too many people you never even knew – you thought that it would be nice since it’s a nice bar and not some weird tech music club, but it didn’t really matter in the end. You were still wasted, head spinning around and headache already forming with bile in your throat every time you opened your eyes. Your phone is dead, your brain is barely working, and the only thing you wish to do right now is to curl down in a small ball and cry. 

You barely managed to call for an Uber before your phone blinked one last time and turned off – and judging by the fact that the somewhat kinda, big-ish car was the only one in the dim alleyway, you assumed it was your ride. Hopefully, you’ll get home as soon as possible, get a shower, clear your stomach from alcohol slowly brewing into nausea, and fall asleep. 

You’re far too drunk to notice that the driver didn’t even ask for your name when you got inside. 

— H…hey there. You’re my driver, yea? 

You force the words out of your mouth as you slowly duck your head into the car and settle on the backseat before the guy even says anything. He is pretty, somewhat – a weird fucking haircut for sure, but has a roguish charm of a boy you might meet at the nearest gas station shop. You’re way too buzzed to think of him in any romantic way, but he is nice to look at, and you’re staring to the point of being inappropriate. 

He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up – probably just alcohol working its way up your system. But he looks nice and probably would feel nice in bed, too – he clearly forgot about shaving for a few days, and you almost think about the way it would feel on your face. Or between your legs. Or just right on your…

— Aye, it’s me. 

You can see his cheeks getting flushed as he stares back at you. The situation becomes slightly more weird with each passing moment, but he taps on his phone, probably searching for a map. You turn your head to look at the blurry image – not like you have any knowledge of the area, transferring here for your big girl job and trying to make your way in the city that couldn’t care less about you or your feelings. 

You press your cheek against the car seat, leaning over to help him. 

— It’s on…yeah, um, Maple 37-12. I think I might have typed the address incorrectly on the app. 

— Thank ye, lassie. 

He quickly turns on the map to head over to your house, and you smile, happy about your management skills even as you’re still drunk as hell. You allow your head to fall on the backseat headrest again, closing your eyes just for a second. It’s a long ride home, and you already regret every decision that made you go to this fucking party. 

The driver is chatty. 

Really fucking chatty. 

— So, where do you work? Ye shouldn’t be up in that hour. 

You grumble something in the answer, not wanting to speak too much. Your brain isn’t built for this kind of pressure right now. 

— Yer boyfriend goin’ to pick ye up? 

You slightly wince at the words, another reminder of how utterly alone you were. Of course, if you had a boyfriend or even some close, responsible friends, you would ask them to help you with a ride home – you never trusted public transport at this hour, and uber is often varies between a last resort and a stranger danger on wheels. 

— Don’t have any. 

Your brain is far too drunk to even comprehend why you didn’t just lie that a mysterious boyfriend will meet you. Somehow, the expression of the driver – he called himself Johnny with such a beautiful boyish smile that it made your toes curl – made you feel dizzy and light in the head. God, you don’t want to act like a high school sweetheart, but all of those drinks made you feel lonely. 

— No way. A wee bonnie like ye shouldnae be alone. 

You lick your lips, trying not to sound too miserable. You’re failing. 

— I’m focusing on my career. 

He actually laughs at that, and you feel even more embarrassed. 

— Career? How does that work out for ye? 

You just grumble at the answer, not wanting to bury yourself even deeper. Truth be told, it’s not what you expected when moving to a new city – you don’t know anyone, don’t have any friends here, your life has started from a blank point, and there is really nothing for you to do besides trying to connect with some uptight work buddies in a grimy bar. 

Driver says something else – just general questions, something about the weather. Silly jokes that make you snort and reconsider your sense of humor – he is really nice for a cab driver, and you kinda want to just listen to him talk over and over again. You kinda just want to close your eyes and sleep, but you suddenly realize that you need to charge your phone in order to check the payment – you don’t think you have enough cash in your purse, and you don’t want to make the driver’s life even more miserable. He must be low on money to work at this hour, and you kinda feel bad enough to leave him a big tip after all of this, especially if you would end up throwing up all over his nice, big car. It's suited for some brutal man from war movies, not an Uber driver. 

— Hey, sorry. Can I charge my phone for a bit? 

He smiles even more, getting you the required cable – you plug your phone finally, for the first time in the past few minutes, seeing your home screen again. God, this is late hours – you never got home at this time before. 

The car takes an unexpected turn, and you swing your head to look at the window – you don’t recognize the area. Of course, the road was dark, and you lived far away, but even with your blurry mind and hazy memories of the street you moved to,  you knew this wasn’t right. The driver is nice and all, but you feel like he made a mistake by relying only on Google Maps. You hope he made a genuine mistake, at least. 

— Um, sir? 

— Aye, lassie? 

He looks so innocent it immediately drops you off guard. You lean closer to him, a phone still in your hand – you were trying to refresh the Uber app quite a few times already, but it somehow never showed you the price you were supposed to pay for the trip – and try to sound as chill as possible. No use in making a scene, you both are tired, and he probably wants to get done with you as soon as possible. 

— I think you took a wrong turn. My street should be on the right side. 

— Didnae think I did. 

— What do you mean? My home isn’t…

The app blinks, and you look at it, trying to concentrate on the obscenely bright screen, punishing your eyes for simply having those. You lick your lips, blood running cold. 

You stare at the “Your driver will be here in 5 minutes”. With a description of a car that couldn’t be more different than the car you were in. 

With the driver, whose name wasn’t even remotely “Johnny”. 

***

Soap wasn’t intending to bring a girl home. What he intends is to find a nice chip place near the bar he and Simon used to go to together and then bring something home to eat because, of course, Lt came home before him, and his cooking skills are almost as bad as his jokes. Simon is a mad dog that will probably eat anything provided and isn’t against chewing on his shoes in case of an emergency, but he doesn’t want him to do this off-deployment. 

Johnny literally just wanted to buy some grub, get it home warm, and take off drinking beer and watching some mindless shit on the TV. Preferably with Simon by his side because their relationship cannot be defined by any labels, and he as a nice fucking ass. 

Well, turns out random drunk girls who slammed into his car just when he got the takeout bag securely on the front seat have nice asses too. And Soap can’t think of the last time he had his dick smothered by a woman’s lips and not his fist or, somehow, Simon’s hand. 

You’re pretty, drunk, and kinda dumb – just like he loves them. Silly girl, really, what did you expect when your phone is dead and you have no other means of contacting safety. He saw you approaching the car, not even looking at his plate – you probably wouldn’t remember when he would dump you in the morning. Not that he would, of course, pretty dumb girls like you should be protected, and his job is, well, protection itself –  he can drag you to his and Ghost’s apartment like a trophy in his teeth. 

He licks his lips, enjoying the expression of fear slowly creeping on your face. You’re so drowsy, so adorable, he can’t help but smile widely when you’re panicking. You try to open the door, but, of course, it’s child-locked. Fitting for someone who behaves like one. 

The last time he tried to convince a girl to have a threesome with him and Simon, she preferred to just watch them awkwardly jerk each other off. The last time he tried to convince a guy for a threesome with him and Simon, Johnny spent the whole night in the corner, blue-balled and lonely, as the twink preferred to suck Lt until he’d cum like two times in a row. 

Johnny knows that if he wants a chance for something other than a sloppy seconds, he will have to accept a quick car fuck, possible kidnapping, and forging marriage documents for a pretty girl he just locked in his car because why the hell not, why can’t a handsome Scotsman just kidnap a drunk girl who mistook him for an Uber driver. 

He stops the car in a more or less secluded area – poor bird, you’re still trying to bump your way out of the door with your shoulder, only risking dislocating it. The car was a fucking tank in disguise, the only thing that could survive Ghost’s driving skills – there is no way you would be able to get it to open without the owner wanting you to. Soap licks his lips, turning to you. Hell bells, you look divine. 

Tears in your eyes, panicked expression, hands curling into fists as you’re trying to get out of your personal nightmare, no matter how drunk you are. Poor baby, he really feels bad for you – you’re so sweet, so trusting, there is no way he was the first guy to ever try to harm you like this. Sergeant might like to think of himself as being more or less in touch with normal people, but when he sees a pretty girl in trouble, he wants nothing more but to become her trouble. 

He opens the car just for a second from the driver’s seat – he needs to get to you, after all, just looking at you, trapped in the backseat, won’t be enough for the throbbing erection he has in his pants. You try to fight him as he heavily lingers on you, almost crushing you under his weight. Car isn’t nearly big enough for someone like him to comfortably sit in normal position on top of you, so Johnny uses one hand to drag you back, deeper into the seat, and the other hand – to unbuckle his belt, proving to be fucking beautiful with his fingers. 

You look so pretty, he can’t help but snap a few pictures for the group chat – dumb idea at first, as he thought, but now he can’t wait for the Captain to see what a pretty catch he has on his arms. The last mission was pretty rough, and they all deserve a pretty thing to cover themselves in fear and tremble under them after they fuck her, one after one. Might even bring you to Captain’s house, show you what a good girl you can be for your daddy if given a chance. 

Soap smirks as he drags his hard cock out of his pants. Your eyes are wide in shock – he might not be the biggest of the group, Lt has the crown rightfully and deservingly, but it doesn’t mean that the Scot is small. Thicker than average, leaking pre-cum already – has been since you first got into the car, all cute and disoriented. He had to waste quite a few minutes driving you as far from civilization as possible without alarming your pretty, dazed head about anything – now he can reap his prize. A part of it, anyway. 

You cry and squirm, trying to fight him off when he pushes his hand into your hair and tugs angrily – you’re simply too fucking weak to be a reasonable challenge, so Johnny only laughs when he can put your fight with a single press on your windpipe. You cough, struggling again – soon enough, you learn to just stop and allow him to lead. Good girl, can be trained so well – you’d make a good soldier if you weren’t so pretty and so vulnerable. 

— Don’t make me break yer nose, lassie. Open up, aye? 

He smiles, too warm for the situation – you don’t understand what you did to deserve this, his hand presses your throat in a tight embrace, and you can’t do anything but squirm and try somehow to use your legs to fight – but oh, you’re far too drunk to do this. You whimper, and your head spins and aches with each hiccup, leaving your lips. Such a pathetic sight to see, you could almost feel bile in your throat as he pressed his cock closer to your lips, smearing bitter liquid all over your closed mouth. 

— Pl…please, don’t do this, don’t… what do you want? Money? I will give you money, or my phone, or…

He groans, the waiting time for this pretty girl is far too long already. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you’re too soft for this – a thought of slapping your face lingers in his mind, but ruining your pretty cheeks won’t be efficient in this case. Johnny tugs on your hair, hoping it will be enough to set you straight – he doesn’t want you to pass out from pain, after all. Already too merciful with just using your throat and now that tight ass hiding underneath your dress. 

Your words are slurred, hazed, your tongue can’t move quite right enough – still too drunk, and lack of fresh air only makes you go dumber by each second. Soap only lets go of you when he is sure you’re far too gone to try and bite him – still, he pushes his two hands in your mouth, opening you wide as you gag and cough. 

— Don’t worry yer pretty head ‘bout it. Just take me, and then we’ll go home. 

He will ride you home, make you ride him, and make you some really nice breakfast later. He will carefully wipe away the damp makeup from your face – poor girl, you’re crying too much and ruined all of your hard work on this skin – and send some pretty pictures to the group. But, hey, he can snap a couple right now. 

With one hand still in your mouth, he awkwardly moves his hips so his cock can point right against your lips – and presses down, making you gag more and more as he slowly but surely pushes his cock inside of your tight, warm mouth. God, this is the heavens – he can’t remember the last time he had such an amazing blowjob from such a cutie. Gaz would fucking love you. 

You’re so pretty from this angle, coughing on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks – Johnny tells you to smile for the camera and snaps a couple of pictures. Group chat was an amazing idea, after all – he can’t wait to share some more cute videos once you’ve settled it. The feeling of your warm mouth on his cock is absolutely divine – you’re tight, probably inexperienced, and he relishes in the fact he might be the biggest cock you ever took in your pretty lips. 

You try your hardest to pull away, but he keeps you close, a hand tugs on your hair again, making you cry harder. Soap is so sorry, bonnie, he will make it up to you later – will eat your pretty cunt sloppily, maybe mess with your ass a bit, making sure you’re all wet and open for the members of his team and their members. He snorts at the thought. smiling as you’re still fighting the urge to puke. 

— Like this, aye? Don’t fuckin’ try to bite me, I don’t want to prick yer teeth off. 

Threat lingers in your panicked mind as he drags his hips back before slamming in your mouth again, his balls slapping your chin with an obscene sound. The drool is leaking down your lips, creating a mess on the car seat – it’s not a problem, really, he will clean it later. Maybe would have to change the fabric of the seating for something less damp if he plans to fuck you in the car more. And oh, aren’t they all planning to do this? 

His phone rings when he was least expecting it – skull emoji on the display. No name, no photo – of course. He must have predicted that Lt would like some of the fun beforehand. Well, Soap isn’t the one to hoard every trophy to himself – even if he really wants to be the first with a pretty girl. 

He loves his team – and they will love you as much. 

He picks up with a smug grin on his face, staring at the screen. His moans become louder, grunts that make your cheeks burn as you just know he is faking it for more theatrics – pressing his phone between his cheek and a shoulder, leaving his friend to listen to his pleasure. Licking his lips as Ghost groans, a familiar sound of an unbuckled belt clanging somewhere in the background. You sob, trying to trash out of his hold again – he only presses you deeper, your nose flattening against his pubic bone. 

— Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, Jonny? Simon sounds tired, angry, jealous even – his sergeant smiles wider, slowly removing the phone from under his cheek and going into video call instead – showing your pretty face, all smothered with pre-cum, ruined makeup, and tears. You look so pretty, so perfect, he moves his hips more to remind you to suck on his cock and not just stare at him like a pretty kitten. He loves you like this, of course, but his dick twitches without proper movement, and Johnny was never the one for patience. Only for bombs, maybe. 

Well, you’re a freaking bombshell, aren’t ye. 

— Sorry, Lt. Dumb thing thought I was her ride. 

The other man snorts. They both laugh – a cruel sound, taunting your ears. You whine and cry, feeling the cock in your mouth pulsating. You try to turn away from the camera, but it’s impossible with a hand still pressing down on your head – you can only close your eyes, poor attempt at saving your dignity. God, you feel absolutely trashed. Soap adores that defeated look in your eyes. 

— And you aren’t? 

— Still a better driver than you, sir. But no, not this time. Can give her a ride, though. 

You hate their laughing, hate the way he is gently caressing your head like you’re a threatened animal and not a living, breathing being. He is being soft with you, like he isn’t forcing his way into your mouth – like he isn’t showing your fucked face to his friend. You hate the way your pussy burns, wet from humiliation, and the soft retirement you’re receiving. Bastard isn’t even thinking of your pleasure, and maybe that’s good. You don’t want to like it. 

— Goin’ bring her home? 

— Aye. Would look bloody adorable on our bed. 

They both snort while your blood runs cold. You hoped, you prayed he would let you go after this – traumatized, but mostly alive and well. You have a job, you have a life, and you can’t be fucking “taken home” to some bastard’s bed while he is using you like a sex toy. You try to squeeze your teeth on his dick, maybe do at least something to make him let you go – but Soap strikes your cheek with unknown anger, making you squirm in his grasp. You sob. 

— Don’t break her yet, Johnny. 

— Sorry. Dumb thing tried to bite me. 

— Doesn’t know any better. Gaz had a special muzzle for dumb girls. 

— Too tight for my dick. 

— Bloody hell, Mactavish. Don’t get too cocky. 

— Never intended to, sir. 

He pushes his dick deeper into your mouth. Your cheek burns from the slap, you can almost feel the bruise forming – and the bastard just tugs on your hair, filling your throat with sticky, disgusting cum. You drink it all, no use in trying to choke yourself on his seed when you’re already set in his hold. 

— How is her mouth? 

— Fuckin’ heaven, Lt. 

— I noticed. You finished fast, even for you, Johnny. 

— I’ll try better next time. Maybe get our dollie off after. 

— Selfish, Mactavish. 

— We all deserve to be selfish. 

Soap has the fucking audacity to wipe your mouth after you finish drinking it all, pushing the remaining cum and drool back on your tongue. He gently patted on your head, then made a small apology for being too rough. Was never his intention. 

— Sorry, bonnie. Don’t try to fight again, aye? You’re too tired to answer, and he just cradles your head against his chest. You whimper and cry, pleading senselessly for him to leave you – he only snaps even more photos of your tear-stained face. God, he can’t wait to bring you home. You’ll look heavenly as a fucktoy for the whole team. 

— L..let me…

— Naw, lassie. Shut up and let me take you where you belong. You’ll love it, promise. 

He kisses your forehead before moving to the front seat again. 

You clutch to the seat in silence, bitter taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue. 

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #yandere ghost #yandere soap #yandere #ghoap x reader #tw: noncon #tw: dark content

[peachdues]

Phantasmagoria (Part I)

Tell Me to Stop (Sanemi’s Version)

Sanemi x F!Reader, Modern AU

A/N: it's time. This one is very personal to me, and I've drawn a lot upon my own life/experiences to write this. I hope it lives up to expectations, but in case it doesn't, remember there is still a part two and a part three (so more smut/angst/feelings).

Massive TW: grief, loss of parent to cancer, canon character death (in non-canon way), drug and alcohol abuse, anger, unhealthy coping mechanisms galore.

CW: 10.5k words; explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex/oral (F!receiving), mildly dubious consent (Reader doesn't tell Sanemi it's her first time, and there's a question whether he would've done it); both Sanemi and Reader are under the influence. Creampie, lots of cursing, angst.

For the playlist, listen here.

Without further ado!

Speak in tongues / I don't even recognize your face / mirror on the wall / tell me all the ways to stay away

phan·tas·ma·go·ri·a – an exhibition of optical effects and illusions; a constantly shifting complex succession of things seen or imagined.

Once upon a time, as a little girl, she’d believed love was pretty; she imagined it would be soft, pink, and shiny and make her feel warm and pretty in return.

As an adult, she’d come to realize that love wasn’t pretty at all; it was cold, lonely, and painful.

Love was dull and harsh and all-consuming.

Love was black.

For Y/N, loving Sanemi Shinazugawa was like falling into one of the black holes she’d learned about in science class as a child. It was infinite and empty and there was no space for anything but the all-consuming void that promised to rip her apart and condemn her to oblivion.

This love had taken her naïve, romantic heart to chew up and spit back out, leaving her only with a misshapen lump held together by the leftover sinew of her hopes and dreams.

Y/N believed her love for Sanemi would be the death of her. It was a poison that had seeped into her veins and was slowly rotting her from the inside out. She knew it was stupid to love someone who would not and could not love her back, but she hadn’t yet figured out a way to stop.

And since she could not stop loving him, she could only resign herself to its toxicity until it killed her for good.

—————————————————————————

Summer had ended, and Y/N was dreading having to return to Ubayashiki University. Dreading it because she’d spent the entirety of the summer back in her – their – hometown, caring for her ailing mother, and that isolation had meant she didn’t have to wake up every day with a pit in her stomach at the thought of running into him. But then her mother had finally succumbed to her illness a week prior, and Y/N was now forced to carry on in the world as though hers had not just been blown apart.

Looking back, Genya’s death had marked the end for a lot of things, including the once-irreverent trio that had been Y/N, Kyojuro, and Sanemi.

They had been friends – the best of friends, really, since pre-school, in large part because of their parents. Kyojuro, as warm and as vibrant as the sun, had been their grounding force, always wise beyond his years but quick to laugh. Then there was Sanemi, and though he could be prone to his episodes of anger, he was a staunch, loyal defender of his friends and would do anything if it meant making them smile. Last, there had been Y/N, and she’d been so happy to just love her boys and be loved by them. She’d always felt invincible with them by her side, ready to take on the world, together.

And for a while, they did.

Their friendship withstood even the toughest of trials. It lasted through the death of Kyojuro’s mother and the subsequent decline of his father, so unable to cope that he could not function without the bitter sting of alcohol to soothe the pain of Rukka’s absence. Their friendship had even endured the deaths of both Sanemi’s and Genya’s parents at the hands of a drunk driver, the shrapnel from the crash permanently scarring both of the boys’ faces, though Sanemi had born the worst of it.

But because they’d had one another, they’d made it through. Y/N’s own mother, though a single parent, took in both Shinazugawa boys until the state placed them in a home, though that rarely stopped Sanemi from frequenting Y/N’s house after school. Even Kyojuro grew to be a constant fixture around her house, drawn to the warmth and love her mother showed both boys as if they were her own.

And then they all grew up, and they were set to begin their first year of university at Ubaya-U come the fall. The three of them had been eager to set out into the world, to grab at any and all opportunities that arose, and for each of them to become great in their own right.

But not two weeks into the fall semester, Sanemi received the phone call that had brought his world crashing down around him. Genya, his beloved, cherished younger brother, had been shot dead outside of their foster home, killed by some kid in retaliation for some fight Genya hadn’t picked.

Y/N hadn’t been with him when he received the news, instead only getting a text from Kyojuro to getthefuckoverhereNOW. She’d bolted from her class and ran to the boys’ dorm across campus. She’d found Sanemi, curled into a ball on the floor beneath a hole he’d punched into the drywall, sobbing, and she hadn’t known what else to do but hold him along with Kyojuro while her own tears threatened to blind her.

Hours later, when Sanemi realized he would have to return to their hometown to make final arrangements, he’d asked Y/N to accompany him to the train station. Kyojuro would have gone as well, but he’d been unable to call off from work, and so the three had planned for Y/N to return with him the next day, as she was the only one between the three of them with a car on campus.

Of course, Y/N agreed to drive Sanemi to the train station, because she couldn’t possibly imagine leaving him alone. He’d looked so lost, so broken, and she would’ve done anything, anything at all, to lessen the weight on his shoulders.

Because she loved him, and she’d loved him for years, and love meant giving everything you had, everything you were to the other, especially in times of need. So she agreed, and though he’d been unable to speak, Sanemi had rested his head on her shoulder in silent gratitude.

She’d not known that, in her efforts to love and support him at his lowest, she would doom their group’s entire dynamic.

In retrospect, she shouldn’t have said anything. It was the wrong time, the wrong way to tell him what was in her heart, and she’d known that; but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She’d been unable to stop the way her heart clenched as she walked him towards the platform at Amane Station, his head hung low and his eyes rimmed red from hours of crying. It hurt her to see him in such pain, hurt so badly that she’d been desperate to alleviate it in any way she could. She’d thought it would have been enough to hug him, to give him a reassuring squeeze and a promise that she and Kyo would be back home the following morning and that he wouldn’t be alone.

But then, before she could stop them, those cursed words had fallen from her lips and ruined her, ruined everything.

I love you, Sanemi. With all my heart.

As soon as she’d heard herself say it, she’d known she’d fucked up. She knew, as Sanemi stiffened in her embrace and pulled away from her, that she’d indelibly altered things between them, and that she could never take those words back. And she’d known, the moment she saw the cold, bewildered look in his eyes, so angry it made her stomach drop, that he neither returned nor wanted her love.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” He snapped, stepping back from her, creating a chasm between them that could not be bridged.

His train had finally arrived, and he’d stormed away from her, turned his back to her, and refused to look back as he boarded the car. She’d stayed behind, standing there amidst a throng of travelers and their families, for a long while, tears slipping hot and fast down her cheeks until the salt burned permanent tracks into her skin.

It hadn’t mattered that Kyojuro had called her later, Sanemi having filled him in on what happened, what she’d done, to tell her not to worry; that Sanemi had just been frustrated and overwhelmed, and that all would be well between them after the funeral.

Kyojuro lied. Sanemi hadn’t so much as looked her way the entire time she and Kyo were with him during his brother’s funeral and had refused to even acknowledge her small greeting. Y/N understood he was going through the worst pain imaginable, and she’d known he was angry because she’d dumped her feelings on him when he’d been in no place to receive them, but his rejection still fucking hurt.

Worse than his rejection had been his total ignorance of her, his obstinate refusal to so much as acknowledge her existence. Y/N hadn’t been able to understand how he could be so angry with her to not even treat her like a person, to pretend as though they hadn’t been friends – best friends – since they were in diapers.

Y/N had wanted to give him space, however, and wanted herself to stop loving him so things could one day go back to how they’d been, so she started to distance herself from Sanemi, believing she would still have Kyojuro, her sun, to lean on if she needed it.

But she’d been wrong, so very wrong. Because Kyojuro had defended Sanemi with a not-so-gentle reminder that ‘he’s dealing with a lot right now,’ which only fractured her heart even more because Kyojuro had taken a side and it hadn’t been hers.

Thus, Y/N was left to love them both at a distance, and she was forced to watch them carry on their friendship without her, even though they’d all come to Ubaya-U together and even though her exile from the group meant that Y/N had no friends at all.

So, her first semester at university, the semester she’d dreamed would be life-changing and exciting, became a cacophony of sobs smothered into her pillow at night so her roommate wouldn’t hear her winking out like a dying star. And she had no friends, because her best friend didn’t think she was his, and she couldn’t stop loving a boy who didn’t want to love her back.

—————————————————————————

Her mom got sick in the spring of her first year. Initially, it had been a good prognosis. Y/N somehow managed to balance her busy, pre-law class load with her mother’s care, fluidly alternating between office hours and hospital appointments. But no friends meant she’d had no one to talk to, no one to lean on in those moments when her legs gave out and sobs wracked her body because she’d been so fucking scared of losing her mom. But she’d been kept busy enough to be able to squash that loneliness down and ignore it like her boys had ignored her, and so, she’d pushed through.

By the time summer had come, however, things had grown exponentially worse. Several nights ended in Y/N having to call an ambulance to rush to her home, because her mom had fallen and Y/N wasn’t strong enough to lift her by herself, and there hadn’t been anyone else she could call.

There had been a few times – maybe two or three – when she’d passed Kyojuro on the street, home briefly to check on his little brother, and the fiery blonde would make a face like he wanted to say something like he wanted to talk to her or care about her, but Y/N would turn and run before he had the chance.

She never saw Sanemi, though that hadn’t surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to be able to stomach being back home so soon after Genya.

Her mother’s condition yo-yoed throughout the summer and into the early fall of her second year of university. Just when it finally seemed as though things were looking up for her mother, when she was just days from her last treatment, she died.

No one had been there to hold her – to comfort her – when Y/N began wailing as her mother’s chest rose for the last time and did not go back down.

Her mother had died, and Y/N had been left utterly and completely alone.

Her mother’s funeral had taken place on a sunny October day, the autumn air cool and crisp as an apple. She’d stood beside her mother’s casket as stranger after stranger passed, offering their condolences and personal anecdotes of her mother’s kindness.

Not once had she seen a familiar face. Not once had either of her boys made an appearance, not even for the woman who had loved them as her own.

She’d returned to campus a few days later, and because the universe had decided she’d not suffered nearly enough for some unknown crime, she ran into him. By the cruelest twist of fate, Sanemi decided to cross the street opposite her at the same time, and what was left of her heart skipped several beats.

For all her efforts to put distance between them, she still loved him, and it was a realization so bitter she thought she would start dry heaving right there on the pavement. She tried to duck her head, to avoid catching his attention, but the crosswalk light changed, and he was suddenly walking towards her, and she couldn’t help but chance a glance up.

Lilac eyes collided with her own, and Y/N thought the world was about to open beneath her and swallow her whole.

His gaze lingered for a touch longer than normal for a stranger, and Y/N feared he’d be able to see the scars from her tears on her face or see how her heart still bore the tattoo of his name. But then he blinked, and she took the chance to vanish among the throng of students, dashing back to her dorm before the tears could spill down her cheeks once more.

She barely made it to her room before her legs gave out from under her, her sobs choking from her throat.

She wished her mother had taken her with her.

—————————————————————————

It was fitting that Y/N met the personification of spring at the start of the spring semester.

Her name was Mitsuri, and Y/N sat next to her in her 8:00 AM class. The girl was so bubbly and bright that it was difficult, even for the drab Y/N to resist striking up a conversation with her. Mitsuri was a streak of color that bloomed across Y/N’s eternal gray sky, with her exotic pink and green hair and permanent blush. It took only a few weeks, but Mitsuri and Y/N became the best of friends, and Y/N could not get over how good it felt to have one of those again.

Mitsuri and Y/N began to do everything together, and bit by bit, Y/N felt herself smiling more, laughing as her friend flirted with every him, her, and them who crossed their path. They figured out they shared nearly every class together, and when they weren’t furiously taking notes during their lectures, they were studying together in small corners around campus, dreaming of what was to come after exams and graduation in a year and a half.

Her pink-haired friend helped Y/N feel confident again, like a person. Mitsuri helped bring Y/N back out of the shell she’d so carefully crafted in the wake of her abandonment, and she began to feel a little lighter, a little more buoyant thanks to the happy, beautiful girl at her side.

That wasn’t to say Mitsuri didn’t have her own demons – she very much did. At night, Mitsuri and Y/N push their beds together in the latter’s dorm (Y/N’s first roommate had long since moved out). There, huddled together under the mess of blankets and pillows, they would whisper the names of their heartache with one another – Sanemi and Obanai – and they comforted each other, wiping their tears away with soft promises that as long as they had one another, they would be okay.

By March, Mitsuri convinced Y/N to go clubbing with her. Y/N was hesitant until she looked in the mirror after her friend had spent the evening primping her and turning her into a woman Y/N scarcely recognized in the mirror. Her friend had dressed her in a short, emerald green dress that hugged every curve just right, a teasing slit going high up on her left thigh. Y/N’s hair had been slicked back into a high ponytail that swung tantalizingly between her shoulder blades. Her cleavage was a bit more exposed in the pinkette’s dress than Y/N was accustomed to, but damn if she didn’t look downright sumptuous.

Y/N was determined to let loose, to not think about the black stain on her heart that was him, and so she greedily accepted Mitsuri’s hand as the two braved the chilly, early spring air. Mitsuri pulled her through the doors of the club -- the Kizuki Moon Lounge -- and for the first time in a year and a half, she felt alive.

Beneath the strobe of multi-colored lights, amidst the pulsing bass of the techno-music threatening to rupture her eardrums, Y/N had found herself anew; no longer was she the sad, morose girl who barely existed. Under Mitsuri’s care, Y/N transformed into a raving princess, who owned the sticky floor of the Kizuki’s club each time she and her friend traipsed onto it in their too-high heels, wearing too-short dresses and clutching too-strong drinks in their greedy hands.

In April, Mitsuri introduced her to Shinobu, a wisp of a pharmacology student who was every bit as beautiful as she was terrifying, though Y/N could not exactly place why the petite girl could scare off any ill-intentioned man that tried to swagger over to them, given her ever-present, sugary-sweet smile.

She also met three girls – Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma – who were beautiful and fun-loving and rounded out the newly-formed friend group with their fire-and-ice personalities.

First, there was Hinatsuru – quieter, but still capable of throwing it back and having a grand old time, especially once her drink of choice (rum and Coke) had the opportunity to work its way through her blood. A pretty blush was always the telltale sign that Hina was ready to jump up on a table and captivate anyone who had the pleasure of watching her dance.

Next, there was Makio, brash and bold, but fiercely loyal. Some asshole had made the mistake of snapping the thong-like top of Mitsuri’s skirt once and found his head shoved down on the table, his arm pulled back in a self-defense maneuver as the dark-haired beauty threatened to wrench the man’s offending arm from its socket.

Finally, there was Suma, who often clung to the other two like a lost child, but once she gained her confidence, would flirt with absolutely anything and everything that moved, with a sultry giggle and a bat of her pretty eyes. Within only twenty minutes of knowing her, Suma had convinced Y/N to make out with her, the beautiful girl tasting like cotton candy and summertime as their tongues lazily danced together beneath the throb of the club lights.

With her new group of girlfriends, Y/N began to lose herself to the alluring beck and call of Ubayashiki’s local rave scene, her nights quickly becoming defined by sticky drinks and jeweled makeup, and the skimpy outfits Mitsuri always shoved her into. But she could not find it in her heart to care, because for once, her mind was on something else that didn’t involve the smell of pine, or lavender eyes, or the feeling of a home that no longer existed.

But even though the sour drinks made her feel so warm and vibrant while she danced, there were still moments when clarity hit and she missed them.

She missed the way Kyojuro’s strong arm would drape around her shoulders, heavy and warm, and how his embrace always felt like home, his deep laugh infectious.

She missed the way Sanemi would pretend to hug her unwillingly but would leave his hands lingering on her back or her waist once she moved to pull away, a small smirk tugging on the corners of his tantalizing mouth. She missed the smell of his cologne, woodsy and clean, as he would lean in close to her face to tease her until she blushed.

She missed them so much that the sharp sting of alcohol eventually stopped dulling the pulsing ache in the cavity where her heart once beat. No matter how many shots, no matter how many sticky acid drinks she tossed back, that gnawing in her chest would not cease.

Then, one night, Shinobu pressed a small, lilac pill into her hand, and everything changed.

Initially, Y/N was apprehensive, because the pill perfectly matched the hue of the eyes of the person she wanted to forget most. But Shinobu promised her that this pill she’d created in a lab for school – Wisteria – will have her feeling like a kid on Christmas, and that promise, coupled with a flutter of Shinobu’s pretty eyelashes made Y/N cave.

At first, she felt nothing, no impact beyond the slight buzz provided by the round of shots she’d done upon first arriving at the Kizuki. But then, as Mitsuri twirled her beneath the flashing lights of pink and yellow, Y/N’s world exploded with a vibrance she’d neither seen nor felt in nearly two years. Everything, all at once, became magical; effervescent; infinite.

The Wisteria seeped into her veins and made her feel like Christmas lights had been implanted under her skin. Y/N felt shiny and beautiful and sparkly under the combined effect of Shinobu’s magical concoction and the balancing burn of her tequila, and with her new group of girlfriends flanking her side as they bumped to and ground against one another to the beat of the music, Y/N felt almost like she did when it was just her and her boys. Only now, Y/N felt even better, because, with her girls, she could ignore the way the black in her heart was slowly beginning to fester, even if that meant Y/N was beginning to feel more and more numb with each passing rendezvous at the club.

Because that numbness meant that at least she couldn’t feel the acrid bite of her unrequited love for him, and that was what she wanted all along, right?

—————————————————————————

(May)

Of course, Y/N should’ve known she couldn’t stay light and resplendent and numb in her neon and black light paradise forever. Because unfortunately, despite the large student body at Ubaya-U, her new friend group just has to intermingle with them.

Really, it was all Shinobu’s fault. Towards the end of the semester, Shinobu began dating a quiet, withdrawn boy named Giyuu, who happened to be good friends with the man that Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma all have a thing for – Tengen.

Tengen was a recent graduate of Ubaya-U, and an even more recent hire at the local police department, his imposing size and discerning ears a coveted asset amongst the group of detectives who’d scouted him out. Having someone affiliated with the local police be part of their group ended up being a huge advantage to them, however, given the general inclination for people to look the other way whenever Shinobu began dealing her Wisteria in the secluded corners of the Kizuki’s lounge.

What was not an advantage, however, were Tengen’s friends, because Tengen, apparently, had become best fucking friends with Kyojuro, and by default, him.

Y/N stood awkwardly between Mitsuri and Shinobu as the latter presented her group of girlfriends to the new, rag-tag medley of boys that now included the very two Y/N had gone to great lengths to avoid. She tried to ignore the burning weight of both boys’ stares as Y/N finally introduced herself to Shinobu’s new boy toy. Only when she could not possibly avoid them any longer, not without raising questions, did Y/N finally allow herself to turn to them.

“Y/N!” Kyojuro looked so surprised to see her and yet, so overjoyed that it didn’t feel fair.

Y/N could tell by the jerky way the blonde’s arms twitched towards her that he’d been about to envelop her in one of his signature bear hugs, but he’d hesitated, apparently uncertain whether he was still permitted to do so.

Ultimately, Kyojuro’s elation at seeing her once again won over his doubt, and he pulled her in tightly against his chest, his arms squeezing her with a security she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. For the briefest moment, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as she allowed herself to thaw, ever so slightly, in the fierce warmth of her friend’s embrace.

It was a mistake; the moment she’d allowed herself to relax, she’d felt the damning prickle of tears behind her eyelids, and an uncomfortable lump had begun to take form in her throat. So with more reluctance than Y/N wanted to acknowledge she felt, she stepped away from Kyojuro, hoping that the dim lights of the club concealed the mist clouding her eyes.

Unfortunately, the end of Y/N’s reunion with her former, fiery friend meant there were no more obstacles, no more distractions, between her and the white-haired, scar-speckled man who gazed at her with an intensity that, to her annoyance, still made her want to squirm.

And as his eyes bore into her, she chanted over and over in her mind for him not to say it, to not let her name fall from his lips, because she could not bear to hear it. It would’ve been easier, so much easier, if he simply pretended like she didn’t exist, because then she could go on pretending like she wasn’t walking around without a heart; like he hadn’t been carrying it with him even all these months later.

His eyes did not match the smirk he had as he said her name, but it still took everything Y/N had not to fold right there.

But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t let him know that he still held any power over her, and so she merely raised an eyebrow at him and smirked back, challenging him.

“Sanemi.”

—————————————————————————

“’Sanemi’ is your name when I’m mad at you,” Y/N warned him, tapping his knuckles with the spoon she used to stir the cake batter. “Otherwise, you’re just ‘Nemi.’”

Sanemi smirked at her, sticking his finger back into the bowl to swipe another glob of cake batter as Y/N mixed Kyojuro’s birthday cake together. “And what about when I’m being annoying?”

Y/N flicked a bit of batter at him, nailing him perfectly on his nose with the chocolate mixture. “Asshole seems the most appropriate.” She squatted down to pull a baking pan out from below her mother’s stove. “Did you remember to get the candles?”

The grocery bag crinkled as her white-haired best friend shook it, the box of candles within jostling. “Sixty-one candles for the sixty-one-year-old man,” Sanemi said proudly.

“Haha,” Y/N mocked, though she swiped the bag from his hand to check to ensure he’d actually bought sixteen and not, as he claimed, sixty-one candles. “I’m impressed. It seems you are capable of following directions.”

Sanemi leaned across the counter and peered up into her face, that damn smirk of his widening as he saw the faint blush creep across her cheeks. “I always follow your directions, Y/N.” He said lowly, raising a finger to wipe a speck of cake batter from her cheek.

“Hardly,” Y/N scoffed, using the need to get Kyojuro’s cake in the oven as an excuse to turn away from him and hide her warming face. “I think you prefer malicious compliance.”

“You wound me!” Sanemi protested, splaying across her mother’s counter in mock-injury. “When have I ever not followed your instructions with a smile on my face?”

Y/N turned back to him with a teasing grin. “’Nemi, since when do you ever smile?”

—————————————————————————

Shinobu’s eyes flickered back and forth between them, a smile forming on her face even as Mitsuri tugged pleadingly at her hand. “Do you two know each other?”

Sanemi said “yes” at the same time Y/N said “no,” and the former’s head snapped to Y/N’s face, who fought to keep her features neutral and cool. “Not anymore, anyways.” She clarified though she refused to acknowledge the way Sanemi flinched in response.

Shinobu looked between them again, her smile fading to something more pensive. Kyojuro only continued to watch Y/N, his expression sad and so very out of place in this castle of infinite pleasure and fun, and Y/N found herself desperate to escape it – to escape them.

Suma, the gods’ gift to the universe, interrupted the tense moment with her arrival, and she produced a small baggie of those lilac pills that promised Y/N’s escape. Y/N could feel both Kyojuro and Sanemi gawking at her as Suma pulled her in close, the little lilac pill already dissolving on her tongue, and kissed her, as they’d done so many times before.

When the raven-haired girl pulled away with a giggle on her lips, Y/N looked back to her former friends and held her tongue out, Suma’s pill now almost completely dissolved in her mouth, and she winked at them. Let them realize that their Y/N was long-gone, buried alongside the mother whose death they refused to acknowledge.

Suma offered the newcomers a pill each, and Y/N was surprised that both accepted. Kyojuro hesitated more than the ivory-haired man next to him, who held Y/N’s eyes as he placed the little tablet on his own wicked tongue, an answer to her earlier challenge. Y/N grimaced at the idea that Sanemi was willing to play along in this little game, willing to impose upon her paradise if it meant torturing her a little more.

So Y/N tossed her hair over her shoulders and turned her back to him, letting Suma and then Makio, tug her back into the crush of people on the dance floor to twirl and grind to the music, as both boys stared after her and she let herself be lost to them once more.

—————————————————————————

He found her the following Friday, as she waited against the bar for her drink.

“And where have you been hidin’ all this time?” Y/N fought the shiver that threatened to lick up her spine at the sound of that cursed, gravelly voice that had always made her weak at the knees.

But Y/N hadn’t spent the last twenty months learning how to keep off of Sanemi Shinazugawa’s radar for nothing, hadn’t learned to keep her grief and rage and pain locked deep inside the empty cavern of her chest, just to crumble under the intensity of that lilac stare.

Y/N threw her head back to swallow the shot of tequila the bartender had placed in front of her before turning to face him. Sanemi looked every bit the simpering, cocky asshole she’d always known him to be, leaning up against the sticky wood of the bar, one fist resting idly under his cheek as he watched her.

She met his gaze evenly, shoulders loose with a relaxedness that she didn’t feel. “I’ve been right here,” she replied smoothly.

Sanemi shook his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at her. “Nah, you haven’t,” he downed his own shot of vodka before returning his eyes to her, looking her over in consideration. “Though, I guess it would’ve been hard to know it was you anyways.”

Y/N bristled at the comment but kept her voice light. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Sanemi watched her carefully for a moment, though his eyebrows furrowed, as though he was struggling to choose his words. “I just wouldn’t have expected to see you in a place like this.” He decided, after a moment, a frown tugging at the corners of his sinful mouth.

It was Y/N’s turn to smirk. “That would assume you knew me at all to begin with,” she challenged, motioning to the bartender for another shot.

Something tightened in Sanemi’s eyes as he held her gaze, and it clenched the knot of unease that had balled in her stomach. “I did, once.”

Y/N kept her face impassive. “Maybe, as a girl.” She accepted her second shot from the bartender and brought it to her lips, biting down on a wince as the sharp burn of the cheap liquid slid down her throat. “But not as a woman.”

Though she did not show it, his words struck a wound deep within her that she’d not realized still festered; because, as hard as she tried to pretend that the man beside her was a mere stranger, his words reminded her of the harsh truth.

She was still in love with him; had been, ever since she’d learned what love meant.

A shadow flashed across his face before disappearing, that insufferable smirk sliding onto his face once more. “I guess you’re right; a girl doesn’t wear a dress like that.” Sanemi purred.

Y/N fluttered her eyelashes at him, a foreign boldness taking over her mind even as the echo of her heart begged her to flee. “Do you like what you see, Sanemi?”

Her former friend’s answering grin was wolfish. “I’ve always liked what I’ve seen of you, Y/N,” he grabbed her last shot from her hand, ignoring the protest in her eyes as he tipped the tequila back easily down his throat. “You just always seem to disappear before I have a chance to properly appreciate you.”

Y/N knew she should run away from him, and fast, but her hand betrayed her as it reached up to brush a bit of confetti from his hair that lingered from earlier. She nearly hummed in satisfaction at the way Sanemi’s breath hitched in his throat as she drew close, her fingers just barely grazing the skin of his forehead.

“Guess you’ll have to catch me.” Was her only response, before Y/N departed for the dance floor and her friends once more.

Sanemi’s eyes remained locked on her the entire night.

————————————————————————

The days blurred into weeks, as Y/N and Sanemi’s new relationship took form.

The convergence of their friend groups was inevitable, though Y/N resented it; but now, they all went out as a unit, rather than as two separate groups which just so happened to run into one another, and it annoyed Y/N to no end.

More annoying was the fact that Sanemi seemed as willing to partake in the sacred ritual of taking Shinobu’s precious Wisteria with them, though he seemed to do it less out of a desire to feel like the flashing strobe lights of the club and more so because he wanted to get on Y/N’s nerves.

“Drugs are bad for your health, y’know,” that damnable gravelly voice snapped her attention away from the Wisteria that sat in Shinobu’s palm.

Sanemi’s shoulder bumped into hers as he came to stand beside her in a darkened corner of the Kizuki’s seating lounge, out of sight from prying eyes as Shinobu dispersed her latest batch of tiny purple pills, a smirk on his lips and a challenge in his eyes.

Y/N scoffed, reaching to take the small offering from her friend’s hand. “And so is that vodka you keep slugging back.” Y/N’s fingers were about to close around the Wisteria when Sanemi plucked it from the dark-haired girl’s hand, a cry of indignation squeaking past Y/N’s lips.

Sanemi held the pill teasingly in front of her mouth as Y/N glowered up at him. “Open up,” he ordered, pinching her key to paradise between his thumb and index finger.

Eyes locked with his, Y/N slowly let her lips part and held out her tongue. Sanemi leaned forward, taking her jaw in his free hand as he placed the small tablet on her tongue with the other.

 “Good girl,” he murmured, eyes lowering to her mouth as he watched her, hungrily.

As she accepted the Wisteria from him, Y/N let her tongue flick out and graze against his skin, dragging it lightly up the calloused edge of his index finger before she closed her mouth, letting the tablet dissolve on her tongue. Sanemi exhaled harshly through his nose, his hand gripping her chin possessively as he stared down at her mouth, and Y/N thought for a moment that he was about to give in right there and kiss her.

At the last moment, Kyojuro clapped him on the shoulder as he returned from the bar, and the spell was broken. Y/N blushed slightly as she turned back to Shinobu who made no secret of her raised eyebrow at the exchange between the two former friends.

Later, as she broke away from her friends dancing on the floor, she’d noticed Sanemi for once, was not looking at her, but at the hand he’d used to slip her the Wisteria, an unreadable heat in his eyes.

————————————————————————-

Sanemi liked to watch her while she danced.

At first, it had been unsettling to feel a pair of eyes boring into her back as she bumped and ground against Mitsuri or Suma, head tossed back as she let Shinobu’s pills work their magic, but she’d grown accustomed to it. Now, she craved the knowledge that he was thoroughly transfixed by her, because that meant at the very least, she was filling his thoughts while they were out almost as much as he filled hers every moment of the day, despite her efforts to numb him out of her life.

She’d confided her secret joy in Mitsuri, who’d conspiratorially promised her they would do anything and everything to drive the lilac-eyed man wild with desperation so that he might feel an ounce of the pining he’d shackled Y/N to feeling every time he so much as looked her way.

One night, a gaggle of them had gathered over in one of the Kizuki’s seated lounge areas as Shinobu pressed her Wisteria into their greedy, waiting palms. Sanemi’s eyes were locked on Y/N, as they usually were, as she’d exchanged a knowing glance with her pink-haired best friend and placed her pill beneath the heavy glass of her discarded drink and ground the violet pill into magic dust.

Eyes on Sanemi, Y/N delicately cupped the powder in one hand and brought her free fingers to the low bodice of her corseted top, tugging lightly on the strings to loosen it, inching it down lower to reveal the tops of the twin swells of her breasts, though stopping before she could be accused of exposing herself in public. She then turned her attention back to Mitsuri, her pink-and-green friend watching her with a sugary deviousness that made her stomach bubble with excitement.

Wordlessly, Y/N leaned back on the table, to the cheers and cat-calls of her friends, and she sprinkled some of the violet dust along the exposed top of her cleavage. Mitsuri leaned over her body, all vanilla perfume and pink hair tickling Y/N’s delicate skin as her friend held one nostril closed and inhaled every speck of the amethyst powder with the other. Y/N’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she let out a wanton moan beneath the black lights of the Kizuki, as her best friend kissed her collarbone in thanks.

Sanemi had gruffly excused himself for the bathroom and did not return for another five minutes. In his absence, Mitsuri had slyly let Y/N know that his eyes hadn’t once left her face throughout the entire vulgar exchange, much to her secret delight.

Y/N knew she was dancing closer and closer to the fire.

She knew that Sanemi wasn’t far from snapping, from losing whatever restraint he thought he had when it came to her, as she deliberately pressed each one of his buttons every time their group ventured out.

The next time he came close to breaking was when he saw another put his hands on her.

A hand gripped her ass, and Y/N turned and saw a man with long white hair and odd-colored eyes give her a wink. He was attractive, that was certain, but there was something predatory in his eyes that made her feel gross, so she moved closer to her circle of friends, keeping an eye over her shoulder.

Eventually, the strange man wandered off, and Y/N felt as though she could relax once more as she swung her hips to the beat thumping over the stereo strongly enough to make the dance floor vibrate. Shinobu held out a hand that Y/N eagerly grabbed, her friend twirling her as she laughed, carefree and alive beneath the resplendent rainbow of lights.

The song slowed to something more sensual, and Y/N was about to take her cue and move toward the bar when a hand grazed her upper arm.

Though it had been nearly two years since she’d last felt his touch, Y/N knew only one person capable of bestowing such a warm and gentle caress, even in spite of his hardened appearance.

Sanemi, to her eternal surprise, had made an appearance on the dance floor – his first if she remembered correctly.

His eyebrow was raised in question at her, and Y/N couldn’t help but appreciate he was asking permission to dance with her, rather than just sidling up and grinding on her like any other man would.

Sanemi looked so god damn handsome in that printed short-sleeve shirt. His sleeves had been cuffed to further show off his considerable biceps, and he’d left the top three buttons open, revealing his scarred but downright divinely toned chest. As he leaned in slightly, waiting for her permission, Y/N caught a whiff of his cologne, and it smelled like home.

Fuck it, she thought, her lips curving up into a siren’s smile as he stepped closer to her, bringing one large hand up to hold her waist as they began rocking to the beat of the music. Their foreheads were nearly touching as their bodies pressed closer and closer together, Y/N’s hips completely flush against his as they danced. Their noses brushed, and Y/N realized how dangerously close their lips had come.

Sanemi brought his other hand up to press against the small of her back, the one on her waist tightening slightly. Y/N looped one arm around his neck, her other hand coming to rest against his chest as they ground, Sanemi setting the pace perfectly in time with the beat.

Through her eyelashes, Y/N could see Sanemi’s amethyst gaze drop to her lips.

She knew she should pull away; she knew if she let him close the distance between their lips, she would also be closing the distance she’d spent so much time carefully crafting between her, and him, and even Kyojuro.

But Y/N also knew she couldn’t pull away, either; she’d waited, for so damn long, to know what his lips would feel like, and she was drunk and a little high, so the inhibitions that would normally have sent her running had long since been overshadowed by her unbounded want for him.

She felt his breath against her lips, and she closed her eyes.

Before she could finally achieve her lifelong dream of kissing Sanemi Shinazugawa, the music changed from the slow, sensual beat that they had been grinding to, to something louder, faster, and more exciting.

A scream grew louder as Mitsuri returned from heaving her guts up in the bathroom, and grabbed Y/N’s wrist, wrenching her from Sanemi’s grip and hauling her deeper into the dance floor to rave alongside her.

By the time Y/N was able to emerge from the surging crush of people dancing and raving, Sanemi was already back at the bar, leaning against it with his beer in hand, watching her.

She’d half expected him to look angry, but he only raised his drink at her, in toast.

The smirk that tugged on the corners of his mouth was full of promise.

—————————————————————————

Y/N supposed it was inevitable that this game of cat-and-mouse they’d been playing would end, and end like this.

She’d known where the night was heading the moment she showed up at the club in Mitsuri’s emerald green dress – the one she’d worn her very first time there in that strobe light palace – and saw his eyes darken from lilac to eggplant. Y/N felt the blazing heat of his stare in her bones even as she danced with her girls, could feel his magnetic pull as he watched her like a predator eyeing its next meal.

The more sober part of her was nervous, knew that she was about to cross a line she couldn’t walk back from. She knew that what was about to happen – giving her first time to Sanemi – would do nothing but exacerbate the poisonous love in her heart, but that part of her was so small, so feeble against the fire she felt in her blood as she approached the bar where he stood.

She pretended not to notice that he watched every move she made as she leaned over the ledge to order another shot. Only after the bartender placed the little glass in front of her, only after she tipped her head back and let the acid liquid slide down her throat, did she turn to meet his punishing gaze.

“You really should try joining in on the fun, Sanemi,” she kept her voice at a normal volume, forcing him to lean in slightly to hear her over the pulsing beat of the club music. She resisted the urge to close her eyes as the familiar whiff of his cologne hit her nose, the smell of a home and of a time before he ripped her heart out and stomped it to dust.

Sanemi smirked, and her stomach dipped at just how beautiful he looked, standing there below the pulsing glow of the lights. “I’m havin’ fun watching from here.” His lips were close enough to her ear that she shivered, gooseflesh erupting over her bare arms.

She wouldn’t let him know how much he still got to her, but she also couldn’t resist teasing him a little further, curious to see how far she could push him until he broke. She lifted her hand to pat the part of his chest he’d left exposed, his skin burning under her touch, as she made to pass him.

Sanemi snapped.

He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and tugged her closer to him, knocking Y/N’s breath from her as he whirled her around and pressed her up against the dirty club wall to kiss her like she’d never been kissed before. He pinned the hand she’d had on his chest against the wall, over her head, while the other burned its imprint onto her waist. His kiss was demanding and hard, but Y/N was addicted to him. She brought her free hand to his neck, digging her nails in slightly to the sensitive skin to elicit a growl from him as he nipped her bottom lip.

Sanemi released the arm he’d pinned to the greasy club wall to hold the side of her face, tilting her head to he could deepen their kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth to dance with her own. Y/N couldn’t control her body as she pressed into him, desperate to feel him against her, to feel him fill every empty part of her until she felt whole again. She knew she was dooming herself further, knew she was only setting herself up to fall harder than she already had, but she couldn’t stop because it was Sanemi, and she loved him.

She felt his growing hardness against her thigh, and she couldn’t stop her hips from grinding against him, heat pooling in her belly. Sanemi moaned into her mouth as her hips undulated against his, and Y/N felt herself go molten at the sound. She wanted to make him do it again and again, but Sanemi tore his mouth from hers before she could.

His chest was heaving, and his eyes were wild and dark as he looked at her. His eyes fell on her reddened, kiss-swollen mouth, and even in the dim light of the club, Y/N could see his pupils explode. He grabbed her hand, and suddenly he was tugging her through the crowded dance floor, through the groups of people near the exit, until they were outside, the night air cool on their overheated skin.

Together, they stumbled down dark, empty streets, though Y/N could not find it in herself to feel afraid, because Sanemi was there, and while he may not have cared about her enough to love her, he was still a gentleman who wouldn’t let her be hurt by anyone but him. They walked as she laughed because he kept stopping and pulling on her hand to kiss her again and again, as though he too, could not get enough of her.

Y/N didn’t know where they were going, but eventually, they arrived at an apartment complex, and it dawned on her that he’d brought her to his home. His lips were on hers the whole walk to his door, never breaking even as he fumbled for his keys. Sanemi finally unlocked the door and pushed her inside his dark apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

Sanemi’s hands shot for her waist as he crushed her against him, his tongue licking the roof of her mouth. Y/N was sweaty and slightly sticky from the club, but the way Sanemi held her to him made her feel so god damn pretty like he’d been set adrift in a starless sea and she was his only lifeline. Sanemi’s hands moved from her waist to cup her ass, kneading her flesh as he moaned into her mouth again. His hands slid lower, grabbing her thighs to lift her up so her legs could wrap around his waist.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmurs, her head tilted back as Sanemi’s lips laid claim to her neck, his hips pressing her harshly against the entryway wall of his apartment.

The snow-haired man groaned, his hands fondling the soft curve of her ass beneath her dress. “Then tell me to stop,” he whispered, his breath hot as his tongue teasingly traced across her collarbone.

Y/N whimpered as she tightened her legs around his hips, locking him closer to her. If he stopped then, she thought she would fall completely apart.

“Tch, just as I thought,” his teeth nipped harshly against her throat as Sanemi pulled back to look into her eyes. “You can’t.”

Sanemi set her down, but he did not pull away, instead kneeling before her to run his large, warm hands up the length of her calves before bringing them around to the back of her knees. He tapped each leg one at a time, signaling her to lift it slightly. With a jolt, Y/N was completely suspended in the air with both legs over his shoulders, as he buried his face into her cunt.

He did not even bother removing the flimsy, lacy thong she’d worn under her dress, choosing instead to bypass it entirely as his tongue dragged right up her slit. Y/N’s head smacked into the wall behind her as she moaned, and she couldn’t tell whether it was the Wisteria or Sanemi that had her seeing fractals of light behind her eyes. She found that she didn’t much care either way, however, because what Sanemi was doing to her felt fucking incredible.

Her fingers fisted in his hair as Sanemi fucked her with his tongue, his teeth grazing across her clit in time with his thrusts into her. He was groaning lewdly as he feasted upon her, eyes lifting every so often to meet hers, to ensure she was enjoying it as much as he was.

“I knew you’d taste fucking sweet,” he muttered as he broke for air, fingers digging firmly into her ass as he hauled her back onto his mouth. His tongue darted in and out of her folds, lapping up every drop of her essence that he coaxed out of her, before he dove right back into her entrance, forcing her to ride his tongue as she writhed above him. Y/N desperately sought to grab onto anything for purchase, so that she could grind harder against his face, but Sanemi had her pinned in the middle of the wall, rendering her helpless to let him tear her first orgasm from her, followed by another, and then another, never once lifting his mouth off her tender core.

Eventually, Sanemi decided he’d had enough, and he moved to carry her to his bedroom. Just after he tossed her onto his plush mattress, there was a moment before he pounced on her when Y/N could really look at him. The only source of light was from the full moon outside, casting everything in Sanemi’s bedroom in its silvery glow. The moonlight illuminated the soft platinum of his hair, made his lavender irises melt into precious gems of amethyst as he raked his eyes over her panting, blushing form. His gaze darkened at the sight of her dress strap, hanging off her shoulder, before dropping to the hem that has ridden up her legs.

Y/N barely had time to take another breath before he was on her again, almost ripping the fabric from her in his haste to get it off, to expose her.

“This fucking dress,” he growled in her ear, finally tugging the zipper all the way down and shoving it down her legs, chucking the flimsy material behind him.

She was almost bare to him, but he was still clothed, far too clothed. Y/N sat up and ripped his shirt, the buttons popping all over the bed while he smirked down at her. She couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed, however, because then his skin was touching hers, and it felt like heaven even if Y/N knew she was only descending deeper into hell.

Sanemi graced her lips with one more bruising kiss before beginning his descent down her body, and Y/N felt electrified under his touch.

His hot mouth first came to her bare breasts. “Fuck,” he whispered as he let his tongue trace the first of her mounds, swirling around her hardened nipple before letting his teeth nip gently at her. Y/N squirmed under his ministrations, the sensation foreign to her and yet somehow, it felt wholly right, that the first person to explore her body this way would be him.

Not that she would tell him, of course; she didn’t want him to hold back, she needed him to fuck her as though there was no tomorrow. If he knew it was her first time, he would slow, or perhaps insist on stopping altogether, given that they were both high, and she couldn’t have that.

Sanemi pressed his hips down against hers, pinning her against the mattress and stilling her movements as he took his time lavishing her breasts, covering her in small marks that he soothes with sweet kisses that were enough to get her utterly drunk on him. Y/N let out a high-pitched whine as she felt Sanemi grind against the mattress as he sucked on her other breast, his abdomen pressing deliciously against her aching cunt still covered by the lace of her thong, as she desperately swiveled her hips, eager for him to relieve her once more.  

Her desperation spurred his movement, as he detached himself from her breast with a low groan, resuming his descent down her body, pausing only to suck and nip at her stomach, before settling between her legs once more. Sanemi’s lips met the band of her thong and he growled, deep and guttural as he pressed his nose against her, inhaling deeply and letting his tongue flick out once more to lap at her wetness over the rough lace obscuring her from view.

Y/N was nearly sobbing from overstimulation, Sanemi having already ensured she’d finished on his tongue three times in the hallway. Now, she needed him to fill her, and quick, or else she thought she would combust.

“Sanemi,” she whined, and his eyes flicked back up to hers, dark with want. “Please, I need you.”

Her words had an instantaneous effect on the heaving man between her legs, because suddenly his body was covering her own, his weight pressing down on her, and his pants were gone, and he was slamming into her with a force that left her screaming and writhing against his soft sheets.

“Shit!” Sanemi snarled in her ear as his cock plunged into her dripping heat, so tight and so unaccustomed to the thick length now bullying in and out of her with abandon. “You’re so – ah – fuckin’ perfect.”

Y/N was sobbing on his mattress, but not from any discomfort. The combination of Sanemi’s body mixing with the Wisteria had utterly blurred out any pain or unease she felt at the intrusion of his rigid length into her core, and instead, Y/N felt herself shatter into a million pieces, only to be fucked back together again by Sanemi, who kept one bruising hand on her hip while the other ensnared itself in her hair as he thrust wildly in and out of her.

But she was not close enough for him. The silver-haired god above her pulled her legs over his forearms and braced his hands on her inner thighs to spread her wide as he pounded into her, leaning down into her face to make her blush, just like he used to do. Only now, instead of teasing her, he was whispering filth that had her turning scarlet and begging for more.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, his hips snapping in and out of her with a ferocity that left her breathless. "You've no idea –”

The speed with which he drilled into her propelled them up his bed, but Sanemi moved an arm to come between her head and the wrought iron of his bedframe, protecting her.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he snarled, sitting back on his knees as he began to bounce her against his groin, her breasts jolting with every forceful snap of his hips.

“Sanemi,” Y/N moaned, her back arching off his luxurious sheets as her legs tightened around his hips. Under his breath, Sanemi swore.

“Again,” he croaked, the sticky pap pap of his hips slapping against hers filling his room with the sweet music of their dance. “Say it again.”

Y/N could hardly process his demand over the sensual drag of his cock in and out of her needy walls, Sanemi’s movements chasing every breath from her and replacing it with him, as though there were some parts of her that remained untainted by him.

“Again,” Sanemi insisted, his groin pressing against hers as he ground against her, his rough base swirling over her aching clit demandingly, causing her legs to spasm around his hips.

“S-Sanemi!” Y/N howled as he lifted himself from the mattress by his knees, taking her hips with him as he suspended her half in mid-air and pounded relentlessly into her, rendering her incapable of making any other sound that wasn’t a devotional to him.

Through bleary eyes, Y/N looked to see Sanemi’s own gaze fixed on the way her mouth was frozen in a perfect “o” as he pulled moan after sigh from her throat with his hips, his fingers digging into the plush of her ass as he bounced her up and down his aching member again and again. Y/N arched her back even more, allowing him to hit deeper within her and she felt an unfamiliar pressure begin to build in her stomach.

It was similar to what she felt out in Sanemi’s hallway, beneath his tongue, but this time was different. Every push and drag of his cock into her syrupy wetness had her feeling electric like the lights of the Kizuki club were being strung beneath her skin and plugged in, and she was slowly becoming a beacon of light for the man chasing his own release above her. Her eyes rolled back into her head as that coil wound tightly, Sanemi’s name falling from her mouth like a plea as she begged him to let her fall apart in his arms.

Above her, Sanemi fared no better, as his hips began to jerk and press into her without the steady rhythym he’d so carefully built, a cacophony of snarls and moans pouring from his mouth along with the filth he muttered against her skin as he sucked harshly at her neck.

Sanemi readjusted his stance above her, his thighs pressing hers down into the mattress, and Y/N lost control.

“N-Nemi!” Y/N gasped as the unfamiliar coil in her belly suddenly unwound. She was far too overcome by her pleasure to recognize she’d accidentally used her old, affectionate nickname for him as she reached her peak.

But the slip did not go unnoticed by the snow-haired man rutting into her from above, as the moment the nickname fell from her lips in her haze, Sanemi’s own release followed, his seed barreling into her hot and fast as a pleasured cry of her name tore from his throat.

Sanemi’s hips rolled into hers for what felt like hours as he poured every ounce of himself into her greedy, demanding core, Y/N taking every drip of his cum. It felt exquisite, to have the man she’d so desperately loved for so long be reduced to such a mess by her body, and Y/N savored the way his warmth filled her, as though it were possible of bestowing life back upon her even though it was he who’d chased it away to begin with.

He collapsed atop her, finally spent and satisfied, an arm winding around her waist as he sleepily pressed a kiss into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Sanemi rolled to his back, pulling her with him, and locking her against his chest as though they were lovers. But the combination of the night’s activities with the dwindling effects of the Wisteria had exhausted him, and it was not long before his chest began rising and falling in a steady pattern of sleep.

Y/N giggled quietly to herself, marveling over the fact that her tolerance for Shinobu’s Wisteria was apparently much higher than his. Under the moonlight, she found her dress puddled in a corner of his room and shrugged it back on, gathering her heels in one hand and locating her bag with the other. She turned back and looked at the sleeping face of the man who still held her heart and smiled slightly, before closing his bedroom door gently and taking off into the summer night.

There was a new ache between her legs, no doubt the product of having her virginity taken in such an enthusiastic way by the man she’d left sleeping in his apartment, though he was none the wiser. Y/N felt oddly satisfied, as though she’d achieved some lifelong goal, as the summer air caressed her face. As she stumbled down the night-warmed pavement back to her apartment, Y/N laughed, her chest feeling light and empty for the first time in a long while.

Want more angst? Smut? Pain? Stick around for part two and see shit literally hit the fan.

Likes, reblogs, tags, and comments are always appreciated!!

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #demon slayer smut #kny smut #sanemi x reader #sanemi x y/n #shinazugawa sanemi #kny sanemi #kny sanemi smut #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #hashira #hashira smut #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi smut #sanemi x you #demon slayer fic

[dollyhao]

loser!ellie x bully!reader

summary: you and ellie go to a party where ellie gets jealous and shows you just how obsessed she is with you.

cw: drunk jealous ellie, clingy ellie, cunnilingus (r!receiving)

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

this is bullshit. you invited/threatened ellie to go this party with you just for you to run off with your friends. she’s leaned against a wall drinking and watching you dance with one of your guy friends. he’s got his hands on your hips and your smiling and laughing. ellie knows it’s dumb to be jealous because your gay asf but she knows exactly what he’s thinking because she’s thinking the same thing, you look way too sexy in that skin tight purple dress that SHE bought you.

ellie downs the rest of her drink going to go get more. you see ellie walk off and excuse yourself to follow her. you don’t understand why tf she hasn’t come up to ask you to dance yet. you wore the dress she bought you and you even wore those brown wedges that make you taller than her (because yk she likes when you tower over her sometimes)

you find ellie downing some more henny, “ellie wtf are you doing,” you saying snatching the cup from her. she looks at you with a cute angry expression, “none of your business. don’t act like you care about what tf i’m doin.” she says reaching her cup back. you hold it out of her reach. “you need some air or something because your words are getting a little reckless. come on,” you put her cup down and grab her arm pulling her out of the frat house that the party was taking place in.

you pull your phone out ordering you two an uber back to your dorm. you turn back to ellie to find her staring at you with what seems like aw. “what” you say with false attitude looking down smoothing out your dress so she can’t tell that your flustered. “you look so pretty in your dress” she says pulling you close, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your chest looking up at you like you put the stars in the sky.

“damn your a clingy drunk” you say rolling your eyes making no moves to get her off you. she gives you a lazy smile and you swear you can see hearts in her eyes. your phone pings saying that your uber was here. you turn around finding the car dragging ellie over to it. you open the door pushing her into the car climbing in after her. ellie is on you, kissing on your neck, massaging the inside of your thigh.

“ellie wait until we get home.” you voice a little shaky. “i don’t wanna wait.” she says licking a strip of your neck. you look up to see the male driver looking through rear view mirror. you push ellie off all the way signaling to the driver. ellie calms down not wanting some rando to hear the cute sounds you make for her. she spends the rest of your ride with her hand on your upper thigh.

you climb out the car and walking towards your dorm with ellie following like a little puppy. you open the door to your dorm kicking your shoes off immediately. ellie closes the door turning around and grabbing you by your neck kissing you slow and messy, all tongue and spit being exchanged between you two. ellie slots her knee between your thighs letting you buck your hips on her thigh. in this position ellie is able to grind against your thigh too.

your shocked ellie has never taken such initiative like this before. ellie is kissing down your neck and kneading your ass. “did it feel good when he was touching you?” she whispers into the crock of your neck. you shake your head frantically throwing your head back, “never. ” ellie drops to her knees pulling your dress up. she pulls your underwear down to ya ankles tossing them somewhere. she puts your leg over her shoulder. giving you small kitten licks, she moans at the taste of you.

“ellie..more” you tangle your hands in her hair. ellie’s tongue is prodding at your entrance, her nose bumping at your clit. you moan out looking down at her, her head is hidden under your dress. you pull your dress over and see her already looking up at you. ellie sucks at your clit fucking you with two fingers while her other hand trails down to her clothed pussy.

she puts her hand in her pants fucking herself on her fingers. “ellie i’m gonna cum” you throw ur head back pulling on her hair, hard. ellie moans fucking you faster, grinding on her hand completely turned on by the sound of your mewls. you come in ellie’s mouth panting because where tf does she learn this shit. once you catch your breath you shove ellie back with your foot that’s over her shoulder. ellie stumbles completely dazed with her hand still in her pants, cumming on her fingers looking you right in your eye.

“i can’t believe you were fingering your self while fucking me,” you look at her astonished, “that’s pathetic ellie” you say giggling grabbing her hand pulling her to your bed. so you two can get ready for bed.

you and ellie are lying in bed, her head on your boobs while your rubbing her hair. your scrolling through instagram stoping on one of your friends post seeing you laughing and ellie sulking in the background. you let out a giggle, “your too fucking cute sometimes ellie. i don’t want anyone but you.”

you thought she was sleep when you said this, but ellie heard the whole thing letting a dopey smile spread on her face.

#wlw #lesbian #the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #loser ellie

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Drunk words are just sober thoughts. ꒱

Pairing :: JJ Maybanks x Fem!Reader

Synopsis :: You and JJ are best friends. Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that's what you thought.

Includings :: CW for EMETOPHOBIA (puking and talk/mention of it), best friends to lovers, mutual pinning, jealous!JJ, drinking, almost violence, pogue!reader, drunken confessions, hangovers, mostly fluff, kisses.

An :: Finally got into Outerbanks so I'm obvi taking requests!

You and JJ had been best friends for as long as anybody could remember despite how the two of you were kind of opposites.

JJ was a wild card, there was no telling what he would do in any given moment. He was rambunctious and impulsive. It seemed that no matter where he went trouble liked to follow.

You were the perfect balance to that, you were careful and logical. If there ever was an issue you were quick to think of a way to get him out of trouble or to at least keep him out of it as long as you could.

The two of you were a perfect duo, balancing the other one out. And you weren't total opposites all the time. You sometimes gave in to his stupid ideas and he sometimes followed your advice when brewing up a particularly horrible idea.

The two of you were also the most well known duo in the OBX. You were almost always together. Wherever one of you were, the other one couldn't be too far away.

So everybody was a little, if not a lot confused when JJ arrived at the Boneyard for another party that John B was hosting and you weren't at his side or on his back.

Pope's brows furrowed as the blonde grabbed a beer from one of the coolers, popping it open as he took a seat next to him. "Where's [Y/n]? I thought she'd be trailing behind you as soon as you got here or vice versa."

"She had to take somebody's shift." He replied, his tone having a bit of bitterness to it before he took a couple of sips from the bottle.

"And why do you seemed more pissed than you should be about it?"

"It's with Chris."

Pope nodded, it seemed that almost everyone was aware of JJ's true feelings towards you except for you. It was ironic and honestly funny if it didn't seem to cause JJ so much distress.

"Chris again, huh?" And JJ had rolled his eyes, setting the now empty bottle aside. "Yeah, Chris again. It's like witchcraft how they always work the same shifts. Even surprise ones."

Pope shrugged his shoulders as he watched the boy grab another drink. "She's probably not into him man, I wouldn't stress it. And if she was, don't you think she would say something about now?"

JJ only shrugged as he downed the second bottle of beer.

When you finally did arrive to the party you had Chris attached at your hip and JJ was on his fifth bottle of beer. A mixture of events that was bound to end in disaster.

JJ's nose scrunched up as he looked at you and Chris exiting from your car, his lips turning into a scowl as he watched the ginger rush around the car to help you out from the driver's side.

"Great. She brought him with, he should know he's not wanted here." JJ murmured to Pope and John B who were trying to coax him out of grabbing another drink. Pope muttered. "Everyone's allowed to be here technically..."

JJ rolled his eyes again as Kie made her way over to the two. Kie grabbed a water bottle that was deep down in the cooler, buried under a couple of beers. She twisted the cap and looked over to the blonde. "What's wrong with him?"

"His girl came here with her coworker and now he's all jealous." John B said and JJ narrowed his eyes at him. "Not my girl." He muttered which caused the group to roll their eyes.

"Well you better fix your face because here they come."

JJ almost crushed the can in his hand as he saw you walking over with Chris, holding on to his arm as you brought him over to your four friends. And you were giggling, just what could be so damn funny?

"Look who finally decided to join us and with a plus one." John B hummed, holding out a bottle/can of [f/drink]. You smiled, humming out a 'thank you'.

"Oh right, this is Chris. Chris this is John B, Kie, Pope and JJ!" You introduced with a wide smile on your face, trying to ignore how JJ seemed to to be glaring into Chris's soul.

If looks could kill the ginger would be six feet under.

Nonetheless Chris gave a smile as he waved to everybody. "It's nice to finally put a face to all these stories [Y/n] tells. Especially you, she talks about you the most." He said, gesturing to JJ.

"Oh really?" JJ hummed, a smile on his face that seemed to mock the one that Chris had. "Good things, I hope."

"If having a killer right hook is a good thing, totally." The ginger chuckled and JJ got up and nodded his head with a small chuckle. "Yeah. That's me. You wanna see it in action?"

Chris's brows furrowed and before he could fully understand the question you had grabbed JJ's right hand which was balled in a fist and gave a strained smile to the boy.

"I'm gonna take JJ home, he's had a bit too much to drink tonight. He doesn't think straight and ends up making extremely dumb choices." Your tone grew harsh at the last two words, sending a glare to JJ as your grip tightened around the his wrist.

Chris nodded, brows furrowing a bit. "Oh, okay! Are you coming back?"

"Probably not..unless you need a ride back home?" You offered.

"No, it's fine. Stay safe and uh..it was really nice meeting you JJ!"

"A pleasure." The blonde hissed as you dragged him away to your car.

You opened the car door, pushing him into the car's passenger side as you reached over his chest to put on his seatbelt which he mumbled something under his breath about them being stupid.

You ignored his mumbling, sitting in the driver's side as you drove away from the Boneyard. You took your time, not wanting to drive fast and upset the boy's stomach but just in case you kept the window down.

"I don't like Chris."

JJ finally spoke after the entire ride of silence until you pulled up to your home and helped him get out of your car. You were lucky your parents had been out for the night so JJ could stay over just until he was sober and his soon to be hangover hit.

"And why is that? He hasn't done anything to you." You retorted as you helped him up the stairs, walking as slow as possible since he almost fell face first when you attempted to rush up them.

He was about to argue as he leaned against the banister but his breath was coming out in short huffs and he was holding his stomach. Your eyes widened as you rushed him to the bathroom.

You quickly flipped on the light he rushed to hang his head over the toilet bowl.

You grabbed the few strands of his sunkissed blonde locks, holding his hair back as he emptied most of what he had drank out into the toilet.

You would have cringed, wanting to puke yourself but since this wasn't first time you had taken care of JJ when he got drunk like this you had basically grown use to it.

You patted his back with your free hand as his head leaned back over the toilet to throw up again. "Mhm... there you go." You hummed.

When it seemed that he was finally finished you wiped his mouth with a warm face towel and got him a pair of clothes to change into, one of the many pairs he kept at your house since you insisted it would come in handy.

And per usual, you were right.

He had changed into a random graphic tee and a pair of sweatpants, tucked into your sheets with your soft covers thrown over him and the fan on it's highest setting since he complained about his skin burning.

You left, shortly coming back with a bucket next to the foot of the bed just in case he had anymore to puke out in the middle of the night.

You left the room again to grab him a cup of water and aspirin. JJ mumbled something incoherently as you handed him the aspirin and he quickly swallowed them then downed them with the water.

He pulled the cup away from his lips but you shot him a glare.

"The whole thing, JJ." He groaned again and reluctantly drank the rest. He set the empty cup by the counter, getting back comfy under the the covers.

"I hate him, y'know."

"Who?"

"Chris."

"Oh we're back to this." You hummed, moving a few strands of his hair from his face and he nodded as he leaned into your touch.

"Why don't you like him? Tonight was the first night you even met him." You questioned with a small frown and JJ didn't seem to care as he huffed.

"Don't care. He's trying to take you away from me. Did you see his hands all over you?"

"It's time to go to bed now." You said, ignoring his complaint. You could talk about this when he was in a much better headspace. As you tried to pull your hand away from his hair but he grabbed your wrist in attempts to keep you there.

"Wait! Please don't go.."

"I'll just be downstairs on the couch like any other night." You reassured, confused at his sudden clinginess. He shook his head again.

"Please. I don't wanna be alone right now. I..I love you. That's why I really hate Chris or any guy you talk about honestly." He continued.

"Jealousy is so gross, wish there was some sort of medicine for it..." Word vomit. Much more easier to stomach than actual vomit but you new it was just him drunkenly rambling although this was the first he confessed he loved you.

"JJ. You're drunk. You don't love me, you're just saying whatever right now. We'll talk about this in the morning, if you even remember." You pulled your hand from his, putting the covers back over his body.

"When I'm sober and say it, will you believe it?"

"Mhm. Sure. See you in the morning." You muttered, obviously not paying attention to anything else that was leaving his lips as you left your room.

|★|

JJ groaned as he woke up, rubbing his head before he ran his fingers through his hair to get the stands out of his face. His head was pounding as his eyes squinted from the sun peaking through the blinds.

The smell of something cooking filled his nostrils as he scratched the back of his head and tried to remember the events of last night.

Then everything hit him like a freight train as he sprinted to the kitchen.

He saw you standing in front of the oven and making pancakes, his favorite hangover remedy food. You looked over your shoulder and smiled.

"Well good morning, sleeping beauty! Asprin's on the table. You can take them after-"

"I love you."

There was a moment of silence as he got closer to you and he spoke a little louder.

"I love you, [Y/n]. I meant it last night and I really mean it now." He restated, only putting a few inches of space between the two of you.

"So you were serious?" You asked and he nodded his head so fast you were sure it could've fallen off.

"Yes! C'mon! You said you would believe when I'm sober! Do you not feel the same? Because if you don't I'd like for you to save me the em-"

You grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him closer to you as you pressed your lips against his and his eyes widened in slight surprise before he leaned into the kiss to reciprocate it. You smiled against his lips before pulling away.

"I love you too JJ." You placed another kiss on his cheek before muttering; "Now go take a shower, you smell like fucking a morgue."

"Yes, ma'am." He chirped, giving you a two finger salute as he walked back up the stairs towards the bathroom.

#obx #obx fic #obx x reader #outer banks #outerbanks x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n