Tumgik
#it is far from perfect but it means so much to me it's pathetic
sunset-snowfall · 2 days
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"Beg for It"
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Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji, Choso Kamo x gn Reader (Separate)
Warnings: Sub JJK men, edging, overstimulation, Toji being an asshole (not that bad)
Minors DNI!
Gojo Satoru
He always talks a big game about how he'll be the one fucking you senseless and making you scream It became pretty obvious that he was just a dumb whore for you to use But you didn't think he's be that pathetic! He always has a habit of cumming too quickly before you're able to, so you tried to think of a way to stop that from happening
One second, you had both been side by side on the couch, watching a show on the TV with very little interest on what was happening on the screen. The next, Gojo was gripping your hand, moving to the zip of his trousers like a man possessed. And being completely unable to resist those shining blue eyes, you had just sighed in defeat.
"Ngh, y/n, please!" You couldn't help but wonder exactly how you got yourself into the situation you were in, Gojo Satoru sitting on your lap, back against your chest, guiding his hand up and down on his pretty cock, the tip already leaking precum.
"You really think that's enough to convince me, hm?" You asked with a chuckle, the pace on his cock merciless as you forced him to jerk himself off, never letting off, even when he was whining about the pain in his wrist.
The only time you did stop was when his hips started to stutter and his mouth fell open, pulling his hand away swiftly as soon as he was about to cum. That had happened three times now and the poor thing was close to sobbing, all energy in his body completely gone as he rested against you, head turned slightly so you could see his pretty face flushed red, blue eyes glistening with tears, clinging to his eyelashes.
When you pulled him away for the fourth time, Gojo did actually start to cry pathetically, hips bucking up into nothing as he tried to bring his hand back to his aching cock, burning with the need for release. He turned to look at you the best he could, a pathetic sight, just for you.
"C'mon, Satoru... you know what I told you... if you want to cum that badly, you need to beg for it..." You cooed, moving your hand back to his cock, stroking it gently with a smile, kissing his neck, sucking and biting the pale skin gently.
The feeling of your skin against his flushed cock caused him to gasp and moan loudly, head dropping back against your shoulder. "Please, y/n, please! l've been such a good boy! Please let me cum! I need to!" His voice sounded so pretty as he cried for you, soft moans leaving his parted lips, eyes rolling back from the sheer pleasure of it all.
And as much as you would love to torture him more, you knew that it was quickly becoming too much for him, so you rubbed his thigh gently, whispering a soft "Such a good boy... Go ahead and cum for me..." And his grateful sobs were just so adorable as he was finally able to get the release he needed.
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Geto Suguru
This man did not want to beg you for anything In his eyes, his power was far more superior to you and he owed you nothing, so he didn't have to ask to fuck you! But after you refusing for what felt like hours, he had no choice That doesn't mean he still did everything in his power to resist
"Like fuck l'm gonna beg for you! Get another slave!" Geto had been like this for some time, refusing to even look at you, eyebrows drawn into a frown, making his purple eyes seem even darker. If it wasn't for the tent forming in his trousers, you almost would have believed that he wasn't interested in you.
But of course you had noticed, and that was why you had shamelessly stripped in front of him, your whole body on show for him. However, Geto was stubborn and had simply turned away, but you could have sworn thatyou saw his cute dick twitch when he saw your perfect body.
"Come on, Suguru... I know you want this just as much as I do... I can see your boner, idiot." You shook your head with a laugh as you pointed, lips drawing up into a smile when you saw his hands immediately rush to cover it up, face red with humiliation. How fucking adorable.
Geto looked away with a red face, glaring off to the side. "Stupid whore, you really don't understand who you're talking to, do you?" He growled, eyes almost blazing with anger. In fact, if he wasn't hard right now, and if his face wasn't flushed with embarrassment like a schoolgirl, you may have been intimidated by his tone of voice.
Much to Geto's annoyance, you was extremely stubborn and wasn't going to let him go easily. "Come on, Suguru, you know it doesn't mean anything to me if you fuck me or not, l'll just find someone else... But you need me so badly, don't you? Just admit it.." You tugged down the zip of his trousers, palming his erection through the thin material of his boxers, already slightly damp from precum.
He grunted quietly as soon as you touched him, even if not directly, staring at you with his usual sharp gaze. "Don't fucking touch me!" He tried make his voice harsh and careless, but when you squeezed his pretty cock, he couldn't help the needy whine that left him, hips involuntarily jolting up. Both of you were surprised by the cute noise, and you couldn't help the grin on your face.
"Come on, Suguru... Can't lie now, can you?" You asked with a teasing grin, chuckling at his embarrassed blush. He was so beautiful like that. "You'll only need to ask, and then I'll be yours to use." Your tone was teasing as you looked back at him, surprised by the way he averted his gaze, biting his lip shyly. You never thought he'd actually do it!
But he was already looking at you with an usually soft gaze, lips drawn into a cute pout. "Only because I have to!" He reminded you quickly, and you just nodded with a laugh. "Okay, fine... y/n... Please... Please let me fuck you. I know I was bad, but I'll be good if that means I can be inside you! I need you, baby... need you so fuckin' bad..."
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Nanami Kento
He'd be surprisingly willing to beg for what he wants He's a very respectful man, and if you tell him to do something, he'll do it immediately It does take him a while to be honest about what he really wants, though, but with your comfort, he becomes less shy But he only wants to do things that give you pleasure, such a gentleman
Kento was always doing things that would make you feel good, fucking you whenever you asked, setting the pace that you wanted, never depriving you of kisses and gentle touches, always making sure that you knew how much you were loved. He never asked for anything in return either, always insisting that your pleasure was more important.
And as wonderful as it was, always getting spoiled by him, you wasn't heartless and knew that there must be something else that the poor man wanted. Yes, your pleasure was important, but his was too! He mattered just as much as you did, but he always answered with the same thing.
"Y/n, I just want you to feel good, nothing else matters to me..." Whenever he spoke to anyone else, his tone was always bored and distracted, but when you was there, his expression and tone brightened significantly. If you thought about it, he was no different than a puppy waiting for his master to come home.
You took his hands with a smile. "I know you want me to feel good, Kento... but it makes me feel good when I'm doing the same for you, you know..." You pulled him closer into a gentle kiss, smiling lightly at how he reached up instinctively to cling onto you desperately. For someone with pretty closed body language, he always wanted to have a physical connection with you, always needing to touch you in some way.
When you pulled away, Kento's face was flushed and he was panting softly. Your heart softened as you looked down at him, cupping his cheek gently. "Fucking hell, Kento... You're so pretty..." And when you praised him, the blush on his face darkened slightly, cheeks burning in embarrassment.
You couldn't help but notice the way he was squirming in his seat as well, eyes closed tightly. A quick look downwards showed you exactly what he wanted to see. The poor thing was hard, just from kissing you! What a naughty little thing! But considering the fact that he resembled a puppy, you supposed it wasn't all that surprising. Clearly the poor thing couldn't help it! When he saw that you had noticed, he turned his head away in shame, trying to find a way to apologise, but as soon as he opened his mouth, you rushed to interrupt him.
"Uh-uh, baby boy... this is a perfect opportunity to make my Kento feel good, right? So don't be shy. Tell me exactly what you want..." When he saw that you really meant it, he nodded shyly, mouth opening a few times, but he never said anything. Guessing that it was hard for him, you almost stopped him, about to reassure him that it didn't matter, that he didn't have to, but he spoke before you could get the words out. "Y/n... could you... I- Fuck, I'm sorry... I just need your mouth so desperately... I need to feel your lips around my cock, please!"
Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at how honest be was, but you grinned and lowered yourself to you knees, gaze fixed on his flushed expression and the way his hands shook, uncertain of where to put them. He was truly adorable. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad teaching him how be a little more selfish once in a while.
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Fushiguro Toji
This man wasn't as dominant as he looked, though of course he had his moments But a lot of the time, he wanted that reassurance of not needing to make decisions or having control over a situation Naturally, one thing that didn't change was his entitled attitude, always acting as if you owed him something It look you an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to get past that
"Come on, be a doll and stay still for me, will you?" You cooed as you looked down at the man underneath you. You was riding him, bur considering the fact that you had just came, you asked for just a second to compose yourself. It just so happened that he was also close at the time, and you couldn't help but grin at the look on his face when you stopped moving.
His eyes were dark with annoyance as he glared up at you, rolling his eyes as he completely ignored your words, reaching to the bedside table to grab a cigarette and lighter, a stunned grunt leaving him when you slapped them out of his hand. "What the fuck is your problem?" He growled as gripped your hips, lifting you up by the hips and slamming you back down on his cock, movement rough and forceful, making you moan loudly in a mix of pain and pleasure.
"Toji, fuck! Fuck, slow down!" You groaned, eyebrows drawn into a frown as he moved you up and down mercilessly, only laughing lowly at your struggle to take his size. He had always been like that, a selfish prick who only thought about his own pleasure, not caring about how you felt in the slightest, but fuck, you loved it.
But you'd been told by several people that it would be more satisfying to put the asshole back in his place, even if it was a struggle considering your current predicament. And yet, you'd reserved your strength for the moment that he was about to cum and his grip on your hips loosened slightly. You grabbed his wrists as tightly as you could forcing them up and above his head, holding them in place as you frantically reached for the rope you had hidden under the pillow, tying his arms together.
Toji didn't really have much to protest about, though, when you continued to move your hips, working yourself up and down on your cock, shaking your head in amusement at his confused expression. Of course, that look on his face didn't last long as he came with a grunt, gritting his teeth as his body finally relaxed on the bed. You slowed to a stop, grinning down at him, kissing him gently.
"So what's the point of the rope, darling?" He asked with his usual smug smirk, such a calm expression on his face. You'd never done anything like that before, and he just assumed it was an adorable act of defiance and you'd just pout and untie him a minute later. He clearly didn't expect you to take a deep breathe before lifting yourself up and dropping yourself back down on his cock. It didn't matter to you as much considering the fact that you had had longer to recover, but for Toji, who had had less than a minute since he had last cum, the overstimulation stung.
That was when he realised why you tied his hands down, so he couldn't stop you. In that position, he could do nothing to get away from you, completely helpless on the bed. "Come on, baby just give a sec, yeah?" He asked with a groan, the muscles in his arms tensing as he tried to break free, but you just shook your head with a grin. "You don't want me to take a break, so you don't get a fucking break, got it? Not unless you ask really nicely..."
He scoffed at first, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes, but when he really saw that you had no plans on stopping, he was forced to reconsider. The feeling was too much, and while it was one of the best feelings in the world, it felt like he was on the verge of tears, and he would rather die right then than cry in front of you. "Fuck's sake, y/n, slow down!" And when you simply refused, he groaned weakly in protest, voice finally dropping to a soft plea. "Come on, y/n, just be a dear and slow down, please? I promise I'll do whatever you want me to, just give me a minute to recover!"
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Choso Kamo
Choso was always such an adorable little thing, sweet and obedient for you, always so drunk on whatever pleasure you give him But he quickly became a bit of a brat because of how much you spoiled him He stopped asking for what he wanted, just assuming that he was entitled to everything Yet since Choso was usually such a good boy, it wasn't a problem that couldn't be fixed easily.
It didn't matter how matter many times you had fucked Choso or had allowed him to fuck you, he was still so sensitive, whining and crying prettily within the first few minutes, making your heart soften whenever you looked at him. He was also incredibly loud, always moaning and whimpering, drooling over himself like a whore. You couldn't help but adore him, but that meant that you often spoiled him, giving him whatever he wanted.
In your defence, you didn't expect him to become such a brat, always expecting things from you now. And it wasn't as if you minded. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was still a good boy for you, and he still showed you a lot of respect, most of the time. It was only recently that his attitide started to change. Of course, it was nothing too major, just his reluctance to ask for what he wanted, thinking he could just take it.
He was curled up comfortably on your lap, head rested on your shoulder, but he had no interest at all in the book you were reading, groaning in frustration as he rolled off your lap soon after, causing you to shake your head fondly at the sight of him sitting cross-legged on the floor. You just assumed that he was going to get up and find another way to amuse himself and so you looked back down at your book, shaking your head fondly.
That is, until you felt his hands pushing your legs apart and the sight of him kneeling between them. Before you could even speak, he was pawing at your trousers, trying to get them down, basically drooling as he looked up at you, eyes sparkling when he saw you looking down at him.
He didn't, however, expect you to grab him by his pigtails, tugging his head back by his hair, making him cry out from the sudden pain, blinking up at you with pretty tears in his eyes, a pout of "What was that for?" As he looked up at you, bottom lip trembling. It was typical of him to pull the tears whenever he wanted anything since you always gave him what he wanted.
This time, however, you were prepared for the tears as you simply hardened your expression, refusing to give in. "What do you mean, what was that for? Don't be such a stupid brat!" You tugged his hair roughly, grinning at his cute little whimper, only tugging his hair harder as he tried to get away. What did he really think would happen?
"You can't just take what you want, Choso. Stupid little whore..." The words were spilling out of your mouth, and it surprised you that Choso really seemed to enjoy it, face getting redder and redder with each insult, gasping weakly when you dropped the handful of hair again. "You want it that much, beg for it! You can do that for me, can't you?"
He nodded immediately, shifting his position as he looked up at you, hands clasping together, almost in a prayer. "Please, master, please let me feel good! I promise I'll never be a brat again! I'll always be a good boy for you!" His voice was so soft and sweet as he blinked up at you, and he whined pathetically when you didn't immediately give into him. "You don't even have to look at me, just let me make you feel good too!" And really, how could you deny a little whore like him?
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archangeldyke-all · 2 days
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ughhh need more anal w sevika pleaseee
hng...
men and minors dni
sevika's obsessed with your cunt. that's no secret. she loves touching it, tasting it, fucking it, just staring admiringly at it-- she always says her top three favorite things about you are, in this order 'you heart, your laugh, your cunt.'
and from time to time, sevika wants to fuck you with a perfect, unobstructed view of your pussy. which is why she loves anal.
she loves watching your pussy twitch and contract as she fucks your ass, watching it drool down on to her strap.
she especially loves it when you've been pissing her off. she likes that it's enough to get you leaking and whining and begging her to touch you, but never enough to make you cum.
which is why she's been fucking your ass for the past hour, cumming inside you over and over as you cry and beg for her to touch your cunt.
she's got your hands tied to the headboard with her belt, pressing one of your legs open with one hand while her free hand plays with your tits.
"sev, sev, sev--" you cry. you're far past words at this point, you've been on the brink of cumming for forty five minutes. and with each thrust of her hips, you're just reminded of how fucking good she'd feel inside your cunt.
"you're so pretty when you cry for me." she chuckles. "you thought it was so fuckin' funny didn't you?" she grunts. "feelin' me up all night-- driving me fuckin' crazy. how do you like it? huh?" she asks.
you just wail a pathetic cry beneath her. "sevikaaa!"
her sadistic smile drops a bit, sympathy taking over her features as her thrusts slow down. "poor thing." she whispers.
"please, please, sevika, i need you to touch me, please!" you sob. she leans down and kisses you, silencing your cries.
"i guess i have been kinda mean to you, huh?" she asks. you sniff and nod up at her. "cummin' in your ass so many times, neglectin' that pretty pussy. but look how wet you got for me, just from me fuckin' your ass, baby." she coos, gently running a finger down your cunt.
your whole body shivers from her touch and she giggles. "sev--"
"come on, baby, i'll give you what you need." she promises, picking her pace back up as her finger starts rubbing your clit. "cum for me honey--" she can't even finish her sentence before you're screaming and coming apart beneath her. she laughs. "there you go, baby. good fuckin' girl, perfect, baby, i love you so much." she whines, ducking down to kiss your neck as her hips start to shake against yours.
she cums silently, sinking her teeth in your throat. you laugh beneath her, high off your orgasm and euphoric from finally being allowed to cum.
"i love fucking your ass." sevika giggles out eventually. you snort.
"you came like five times, baby, i can tell." you giggle.
"you're the one who sent me pictures of the plug you were wearing in the middle of fucking dinner." she grunts, biting your neck again.
"i never said i don't love it too." you giggle. sevika hums against your throat.
"'s why you're fuckin' perfect for me, baby."
you both burst into laughter at the same time.
taglist!
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rolanslide · 2 years
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I think rottmnt has ruined me a little bit because it's beautifully animated and funny and well storyboarded and well written and astoundingly performed and depicts a flawed but unabashedly loving family of all boys and is surprisingly nuanced and it's a fucking ninja turtles show
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clan-ackerman · 2 months
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-----mdni-----
------18+-----
🩸🩸 BUTTER KNIVES🩸🩸
Human!Alastor x f!reader
blood / size kink / bitting / incorrect usage of knives / virgin reader / fucking in general / ALASTOR IS FILTHY AS HELL / porn with plot
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Your father always disapproved of him. A girl like you should never marry such man.
"A radio host? Pumpkin, you need a man who will be able to look after you when you grow old." Your father had said to you when you had gathered all your courage at dinner table one evening.
"But... I love him father..." You mumbled quietly.
"Love? You're far too young to know what love is. And besides, didn't you see at the ball how all the girls were looking at him? I can bet, that he looks at all the girls the same." Your father continued and dabbing at his moustache with napkin, cleared his throat:
"I must head out. Moon is out tonight and it's perfect for hunting. Lads will be waiting on me by now."
"Stay safe." Your mother kissed your father on cheek and saw him off. You were left sitting alone at the table, staring at your half eaten plate.
"Dont take it so hard, petal." Your mother stood next to you and gently run her hand through your hair.
"A man I respect is keeping me away from the man that my heart yearns for..." You sighed.
"Does father want me to marry someone I do not love? I'd kill myself in such marriage, mother."
"Don't even say such thing. You know your father is only looking out for you. For your future." Your mother said, trying to calm you.
"Alastor is also looking out for me." You narrowed your eyes at mother. With a hard look down at you, your mother advised:
"I think... It would be better if you did not see him anymore. Don't make your father angry, petal."
You looked up at her, not believing what she had just said.
"What..? Mama... How could you say such thing?" Your lip started to tremble. With blurry vision you looked around the table, butter knives shining in dim light. With angry huff you tried to brush your tears away and stood up, chair falling over in process. Your mother took a step back:
"Behave now." Mother said in sharp tone. You took a quick glance at the clock on the mantle piece and then bolted for the door.
"Where are YOU going at such hour?!" Your mother grabbed your hand before you even got two steps away from table.
"Clearly away from here." You spat, not breaking eye contact.
"You will sit back down, finish your dinner and go straight to bed." Your mother stated, her grip on your arm tightening. What she didn't notice, was how your other hand sneaked behind you and blindly reached for the first thing - the glimmering butter knife.
"I will not do such thing. Now. Let. Go." You said through gritted teeth.
"That's it. You insolent daughter." Your mother's hand reached up to grab your hair, but before she could do so - you were pointing the knife at her.
With wide eyes, both of you stared at the knife that was between you two.
"Mother.... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean--"
Your mother looked up at you and in one swift motion slapped you right across your face. With a cry you clutched your cheek and finally escaped the house. Leaving your mother to seeth back at the doorstep.
Quickly running down the front stairs of the house, you bolted across the yard. Ducked through the wooden fence that held your father's horses out of mother's garden, and run bare feet in the field. Trying to put as much distance between her and yourself.
When you finally had reached the other far off side of stockyard, you felt like you could breath again. Not bothering to climb over the fence you sat in the wet dewy grass and leaned against the fence pole. Distinct sounds of hunters gunshots and hound howls echoed in the forest behind.
You looked down at your hands. Right one still clutching the butter knife. From holding it incorrectly in your hand while on the run, you had accidentally nicked your fingers. New tears gathered in your eyes and you let out pathetic whimper.
"Y/n...?" You heard steps approaching on the other side of the fence on the gravel road.
"A-Alastor?" You immediately jumped up. Switching the knife from one clammy hand to other and hiding it behind your back. Now free hand, whipped your nose and cheeks, unknowingly to you - leaving red streaks across your face.
"What has my darling doe crying?" He quickly approached the fence when he picked up on your sniffling.
"Its fine, Alastor. Just had quarrel with my mother." You tried to laugh it off.
"A bloody one, as I see." He eyed you, reaching for your cheek. You tried to step away, but his warm touch was so inviting.
"Show me your hands, love." he said. He wasn't asking.
Swallowing thickly you brought both hands in front of you. Feeling like child in trouble. Trembling, and both bloody by now.
"We were having family dinner. And my father was reminiscing on the previous ball. And asked if I fancied any men there-" Alastor eyed you sharply for a second, unknowingly to you as you kept on rambling:
"-and I said that there was a man that I have had eyes for such long time, that the other men at the ball didn't even interest me. And he asked who. I said it's you. And he said that I should look elsewhere. I stood my ground and told him I love you. And he disapproved. Then mother said I should listen to him. Then she was screaming, saying I should stop seeing you. I got angry. She grabbed me. Tried to pull my hair and I... I just -I just pulled a knife at her... And then... And now I'm here..." You ranted so quickly that now you were out of breath.
With gentle chuckle, Alastor reached for your hand that was holding the knife, his ever seeing eyes, noticing the cuts on your other palm. He slowly frapped your fingers alongside his around the hilt of the butter knife and pulled both of your hands across the fence.
"When in dire straits, slice the sinew to halt movement," he murmured, gently drawing the knife across his chest. "Stab and pivot to temporarily cease motion," he directed, gesturing towards the center of his chest.
"You're wicked, Alastor..." You mumbled looking up at him.
"And you should never shed your blood. Though I am touched by your eagerness in defending your convictions concerning me, I would prefer not to witness your blood spilled, my love."
"Even if blood is such a pretty colour on you." He continued, his eyes flickering across your face. Standing up on the first wooden beam of the fence, he now stood way taller than you. Grabbing your chin he tilted your face one way, then the other.
"Since you say I'm wicked-" he gave you a cheeky smile,
"I might be afraid that your parents are correct. You should stay away from me." He looked away from you and across the field behind you.
"But I love you, Alastor..." You whispered so quietly, afraid that he might not have heard you.
"You have brought a knife in bloody hands tonight. What an odd way of confessing one's love." He bent his head closer to your face.
"What a lovely thing you are." His voice suddenly sounded sultry. It was enough for you to stand on your tippy toes and press your lips against his.
You could feel his smile against your lips. One of his hands sneaking to hold the back of your neck and pulling you closer. When that was not enough, in swift motion his legs swung over the fence and he was right in front of you. His lips never leaving yours.
It felt so right to kiss him. To kiss him felt like finally quelling an obsession. Just to feel the painful withdrawal as soon as his lips traveled to your neck to leave love bites there. Love bites that bloomed the same way as the blood splatters on your light summer dress.
His hands traveled down your back, the butter knife still in his hand. Both of you knew that no one would come down this road at this hour, but there was urgency in your actions. Desperation, almost. Your hands traveled to the front of his shirt, to get rid of the bow tie and open couple of buttons.
"The next move shan't be quite gentlemanly of me, my doe.." he was breathing hard and put the hilt of the knife in his mouth. His tongue briefly tasted your blood on it. Alastor's hands deftly gathered the skirt part of your dress and pushed you against the fence. Then raising the fabric around your hips and bunching it to the side, he grabbed the knife and pinned your dress to the fence.
"Alastor..." Your breath caught in your throat as your lower half was exposed to the cold nights air.
"Too much?" He asked, now stepping closer as his hands worked on his belt.
He clearly did intend to fuck you here. In empty field. Against a fence. In middle of the night.
"No, just perfect, you're perfect..." you breathed, hands looping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.
"Lovely." He whispered and kissed you. His hand reaching down between your legs.
"Ah..." You moaned at the first contact.
"Needy little thing you are..." Alastor sighed against your lips, feeling the wetness between your legs.
It was the first time someone else's hands were touching you down there, besides your own. Feeling was not entirely new, but the anticipation was almost killing you. Your hand around Alastor's neck tightened, pulling him down, so you could hide your face in his shoulder. Breath heavy against his neck.
His fingers deftly slid through your slit.
"How.. many...?" Alastor implied, trying to shift his face away and look at you, making him pull his hand slightly away and his fingers circling back to your clit.
"Ah.." you gasped, not hearing his question and just trying to hide your face again.
"Sweetheart..." Alastor's hand slid from your cunt and instead dug his fingers in - right where your thigh met your pussy. This finally got your attention and your head shot up to look at him. You could almost swear that you could see your own debauched image reflecting in his glasses. He tilted his head down at you, and your reflection was gone and his warm eyes were staring right into your soul.
"How many men you have sle-" before he could ask the question you were shaking your head.
"None. No one." You said. "None has touched me this way," you looked down at his hand between your legs. His pointer finger that was closest to your pussy, slowly slid through your slit once more. Your head fell back and you stared at the sky. Stars were slowly starting to appear in the night sky.
"... except myself." You swallowed. Your head feeling empty of any coherent thought. Alastor's mouth fell open slightly:
"Say the word, and I'll stop, my doe..." He leaned down to your exposed neck, and gently run his nose up and down your pulse point.
Your hand shot down and grabbed his wrist:
"I want you and you alone."
His smile against your neck was almost infectious.
"Well, then... To rephrase..." He planted slow, open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his free hand pulling your dress down your shoulder. He moved his lips against your ear, as if to tell you something that no one else could ever hear:
"...How many of your own fingers have you taken?" you could hear his wicked smile in his voice. And you could feel his hand moving between your legs. His middle finger slowly, almost feather lightly, circled your clit and slid down to your opening. Your breath hitched:
"A-Alastor..."
When you didn't provide him the answer, he quickly pulled his hand out of your underwear and grabbed your hand putting it up between both of you. He pressed his palm against yours and looked at your hands. You did the same. Both of you could see how his fingers shined in the moonlight from your wetness coating them.
"Tell me."
"One."
"How far?"
You were staring at your pressed together hands. He was looking straight at you, watching how your eyes showed the realization of how much bigger his hands were and how longer his fingers were.
"Second knuckle..." You whispered and your eyes met his, over the frames if his glasses.
"Oh, my little doe... I will give you so much more than that..." He chuckled and looked at your hands as his fingers interlinked with yours.
"When I kneel before you, you shall receive all I offer. Diligently." He let go of your hand and took off his glasses.
"Understood?"
You nodded. For such a gentleman, he definitely had such a filthy mouth. You'll soon learn it both ways.
"Hold these for me, will you?" He innocently asked and put his glasses on you, quite lower so you could stare over the round frames. Before you could say anything else, he was on his knees in the dewy grass, both of his hands sliding up your bare legs. His lips gently leaving kisses on your hips as he dragged your panties down your legs. You couldn't look away from him. His soft lips moving from one hip, across your stomach to the other side. His fingers running between your folds, time to time coming up to circle your clit and then tease your entrance by dipping in a fingertip.
"Mark me..." you breathed out as one of your hands slid to his hair.
"That will hurt." He looked up at you.
"You won't hurt me. I trust you, Al..." You said through a moan.
"...where...?" He quietly inquired.
God, please, everywhere.
"Here..." you gently tapped your hip. Alastor smiled, leaned closer, pressed his lips to the top of your hand and then gently bit your fingertip.
"This shall mean you're mine, my love, I hope you are preparing for the consequences that it ensues." He said against your skin as you pulled your hand away.
"I was yours as soon as our eyes locked when I saw you riding horses with the hunters all those years ago..." You moaned as his fingers circled your clit, as if he was encouraging you to finish your though. Next second, you felt his teeth sink into your skin and his middle finger plunging into you.
"Alastor! Ah.." both of your hands flew to his hair, as your hips jerked against his hand.
"Shhh.." Alastor smiled against the blooming love bite. His eyes then locked on how you were taking his finger.
"Good girl." His smiled and looked up at you. His other hand joining to circle your clit.
"Oh Lord..." You moaned. He playfully rolled his eyes at you and leaned his temple against your hip.
"Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." He praised, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He twisted his finger and you let out a high pitch keen.
"Look at me." He straighted a little. Your eyes locked with his. Opening his mouth, he stuck his tongue out. Your eyes grew big, and a flash of warmth traveled down from your chest to your legs. Your pussy involuntary clamping down on his finger. And then his mouth was on you. As soon as his tongue got the first taste of you, his eyes fell shut and he moaned against you, sending vibrations straight through you.
"Ahh...ha...." You moaned loudly, both hands moving to his hair and pulling it. He lapped at your pussy as if he was a starving man. He sucked on your clit and then you felt a second finger stretching you open.
"Please.... Just don't stop..." You moaned, your hips jerking against his mouth. His fingers picked up the speed and your breathing did the same.
"I think I'm going to..." Your hold on his hair grew tighter and you were starting to push his mouth harder against your weeping cunt. Alastor grunted, his hand that was constantly squeezing your ass traveled down to his crotch and palmed himself. His pants growing too tight.
Alastor curled his fingers forward and sucked hard on your clit. With a loud cry you came on his fingers and tongue. You yourself could never reach such intense peak. Your toes curled, your knees almost wishing to pull together. You pressed Alastor's head closer to your dripping core, at the moment careless if he could breathe or not.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckkk..." Your eyes rolled back into your skull. For a moment you felt weightless, your hands falling away from his hair, to hold onto to the fence beams that you were leaning against.
Flatly dragging his tongue from your twitching hole up your slit to the clit, he placed chaste kiss on your mound. Alastor leaned back and looked up at you.
When you had gathered at least some wits about you, you looked down at him. His chin and lips were glistening from your cum.
"You taste sweet." He gave you a wink and licked his lips.
"Alastor..." You whispered his name and in swift motion crossed your hands and pulled the dress over your head. Leaving it hanging by the knife. Alastor was caught off guard and sat back, his hands slowly starting to unbutton his vest and then his shirt.
Was Alastor intending to fuck you against the fence or where you intending to ride him in the dewy grass?
In two quick steps you were in front of him and straddling his hips. Your lips immediately seeking out his and hands helping him to unbutton his shirt faster. With a groan he pulled away and grabbing your hand dragged it down his chest to the front of his pants. Unzipping his pants you dipped your hand in his boxers.
"Fuck..." He moaned, his eyes rolling back. You wrapped your hand around his cock and gently freed him from the confines of his pants.
"How is that going to fit...?" You blurted out when you looked down at him and gave him two long strokes.
"... perfectly..." He hissed through his teeth and threw his head back when your thumb swiped across his dripping tip. You switched your hands, and raised now free hand up to your face. Alastor looked at you through lidded eyes. Gently you licked your finger, tasting him on your skin. Seeing you do that, Alastor's hips jerked up into your fist and his eyes fluttered shut.
"Lover." He gritted through clenched teeth. His hands coming to hold your hips. You only smiled at your ability to drive him as insane and he was driving you. You slid your hand down to his base and gently squeezed.
"Cheeky little thing..." Alastor opened his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss by your neck. It was slow but messy. Tongues twisting, saliva smearing against both of your lips.
You got up on your knees and wrapped your hands around Alastor's neck. However, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his cock alongside his own.
"Now, now." He smiled against your lips. "You gotta learn how to take it. Put. It. In." Alastor whispered absolute filth against your lips and moved your hand so that his cock dragged through your soaked folds.
With a shaky breath you dragged his cock through your folds once more. Pausing on your clit and moaning against Alastor's lips.
"Yes... Take your pleasure..." He whispered.
Then moving his cock down, you pushed it's tip against your entrance. And then with a hissfrom your mouth, your hips were flush with his. The unknown feeling between your legs made you bite Alastor's lip. He groaned in your mouth, but didn't pull away if both of you felt the tangy taste of blood.
Alastor was patient with you, and let you decide when and how to move. But once your hips started to twitch against his, Alastor ground hips up into yours. His warm hands moved up to your back and shoulder blades to pull you closer. Your own hands tangled themselves in his dark hair and scratched down his back. By now your moans were echoing the same as the hounds of the hunters.
"Harder.. Al... Please..." You moaned against his cheek, as your hips moved up and down. Your desperate cunt twitching around his cock and making Alastor moan in your ear.
Next moment you were on your back, your legs on his shoulders as he leaned over you. Your eyes locked with his. Both of you as mirrored image to each other. Hair disheveled, foreheads sweaty, short rapid breaths. And then he was fucking you as if this is the last night out here with stars. As if the coming morning you won't stop by the coffee shop where he gets his morning dose of caffeine.
The way his cock so deliciously dragged against your walls - you had nothing in this world to compare it to. Leaking tip of his cock was carving your cunt out with every push back in, and each drag of it made you clench around him. As if to say, that you need him back in and not let him pull out.
You grabbed Alastor's cheeks:
"I'm in love with you...." He said first, as if he had read your thoughts on what you were about to say.
"I love you." You smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss that was broken by your moan as Alastor gave harsh thrust, hitting your cervix. Making you lose your breath momentarily.
"More.. please..." You begged, your cunt twitching around him.
"Fuck..." Alastor moaned, his hips taking on harsher and faster movements. You could swear that you felt him in your guts. Your hand traveled down your stomach and pressed on the outline of his cock. He smirked at you, as if saying that no other cock will ever be this deep, no one ever will pleasure you the same way.
"You're mine..." He groaned. Letting your legs off his shoulders, he pulled your lower lip with his thumb until your mouth opened and he could slide his finger in. Your tongue latched around his digit and sucked hard, making him stutter in his movements as he wondered how to use that mouth of yours in other ways.
With press on your tongue, your mouth opened once more, Alastor pulled his finger out and dived in to kiss you. Your tongues meeting before your lips could. You moaned in his eager mouth as his wet thumb now circled your clit. Your hips raising to meet his thrusts. When your wandering hands were enough for him, he grabbed them and pinned both of them above your head.
"Keep them there..." He said breathlessly and leaned back lifting your hips with his.
He was fucking you like drowning animal would fight for air. And the pleasure was rapidly pulling both of you under. The way your cunt clenched around him more and more frequently, was a sign that you were close. As if not being able to stand not touching him, your hand raised to rest on his stomach, feeling the lean muscles flexing there.
Not wanting to soil you on your first sexual encounter, Alastor was ready to pull out when your legs wrapping around his hips locked him in place. Sliding his hands up your legs and then sides, he leaned over you.
Your orgasm approached you unknowingly, as such intense feeling you have never felt before.
"I got you. Just let go." Alastor said against your chest as his forehead rested against your collarbone. With a moan that stole all your breath - you came. Alastor's name tumbling out of your lips like the sweetest honey. Your body arched off the ground and pressed against Alastor. Not knowing what to do with your hands as all nerve ends felt like going haywire, you opt to grab Alastor's hips and, as if your legs being locked around him wasn't enough, you pulled him against you.
Corrupting such sweet doe as yourself felt so rewarding. He could almost feel your orgasm on his tongue. Perhaps that was just taste of your cunt that kept lingering on his tongue. His own hips stuttered and with deep groan he came deep inside you, his teeth latching on the side of your left breast, leaving another love bite to remind you of this night of debaucheries.
For a moment neither of you moved. Still ongoing gunfires of hunters and howls of hounds could be heard echoing, meaning that hunt was still on. And you could return home without your father seeing you here.
Alastor wrapped one hand around your back and gently laid you back on ground.
"I must beg your pardon. A lady such as yourself ought never to be deflowered in such a place for the first time." He said quietly against your soft breasts that were still raising and falling in short breaths.
"Oh, hush. I enjoyed myself very much so." You took a deep breath trying to steady your breathing. Alastor looked at you and you smiled at him. Gently running your hands through his hair in order to tame it.
Steadying himself on his hands, Alastor pulled out and couldn't help but to stare at your cunt that was already leaking his cum. Catching him staring, ought to teas him a little bit. Bending your legs you spread them open. Gaining Alastor's attention, you trailed one hand down your body and dipped your fingertips in your folds. Shyly looking to the side you spread your folds, making more cum leak out. Alastor was watching your hand like it was a prey.
"Darling-" Alastor warned as his lashes fluttered. He leaned to kiss your knee instead. Fighting so hard not to take your overstimulated body the second time.
"We should talk in the morning." Alastor got up with a sigh, tucked himself away and walked over to the fence to retrieve your dress.
You quietly got dressed, not questioning anything. You weren't sure what we're you to say in such moment. While you were getting dressed you couldn't help but stare as Alastor was putting on his shirt. His skin on the back scratched by your nails. Or how the fingers you had cut had smeared blood all over his body.
"Shall I escort you home?" Alastor turned to you.
"No. It's late, we both should be getting home and to bed. And besides, I know this field like back of my hand." You shook your head.
"Alright." Alastor tilted his head to the side and smiled. He walked up to you and gently took off his glasses from you.
"Not a scratch. Good girl." He praised you, leaning down to your eye level. Your cheeks immediately flushed red and you quickly pressed your lips against his.
As he watched you walk back home, you couldn't help the smile that was on your lips. The faithful butter knife clutched carefully in your hands, will be neatly stored in your vanity as a reminder.
Meanwhile Alastor was sitting on the fence, watching you walk away, with skip in your step. Once you were far enough, he hauled himself over the fance, back on the road. What you had not seen at the very beginning, was that Alastor had come with knive of his own. Quite menacing butcher knife, that he had wedged in the nearby tree.
You were almost home. You had just ducked through the fence and walked quietly across the yard when, one, so much differently sounding gunshot, made you turn back around and stare at the field where you had come from....
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Part 2?
2K notes · View notes
mono-dot-jpeg · 6 months
Text
boy failures for u - i. yoichi, s. nagi, s. ryusei, b. meguru
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summary; in which some boys just love you so much, they simply can't function
genre/extra tags; scenarios, fluff, comedy, projecting my love for dog energy boys, they're so pathetic /pos, bachira is clumsy, ryusei is an embarrassingly horny dude (can confirm, he gets no bitches, absolutely ZERO play!!), nagi... is perfect as he is, yoichi,,,, is just socially awkward around people he has a crush on
[gender neutral reader]
a/n; look at me being fancy this one panel banner, slay. tbh i couldn't think of a good three photos to use for it so i tried this which is kind of nice. anyways i had a sudden thought hit me and it must be done. and what better anime to write for than the one where everyone has unexplainable gay tension between each other. i swear im as caught up as possible i think and i swear the gay tension is like,, crazy.
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isagi yoichi is endearing. he's so bad at being normal around you. his face flushed a cute red, and his words barely managing to leave his mouth as you talk to him so sweetly. he doesn't know how to handle a crush. and it's so cute to tease him because he just doesn't know how to respond properly.
the times where he does manage to gain enough confidence to talk a conversation with you, he's never taking the lead in any of them. he's talking [somewhat] normally to you, answering your questions and [attempting] to reply to your thoughts and responses. of course, just don't flirt with him too hard. there's like a 50 percent chance he will understand it or not.
he can't even admire you correctly. when he attempts to give you a compliment, he's saying all the wrong words and apologizing profusely like he offended your entire bloodline. he's so utterly enchanted by you, he wonders if you're an angel sent just for him.
"you're so nice, y/n." "huh?" "i-i mean you're really cute! wait- i didn't mean that! fuck- not that i don't think you look cute! you're really a great person, you know?! sorry! i'm just gonna go back to practice...!"
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nagi seishiro is so lazy that you can't help but watch over him. you understand why reo adores him (a little too much). he's a boy with pretty privilege and talent. he talks to you with such honesty that he unintentionally flirts with you. he doesn't know a lot of things well, but even he's had his fair share with understanding liking people (but that's only with the random dating sims he's tried).
when he manages to get on his feet, whether it's for a soccer match or you, he's stuck by you like a cute koala. he whines about everything being "too much of a hassle." but he finds himself walking around looking for you, no matter how far you are. he whines to you about how he had to get up to find you, and he's cuddling close to you. his mouth turned into his signature X shape as he pouts at you, annoyed that you just had to be away from him for more than a minute.
he tries so hard to be around you but at the cost of his laziness, he mutters to you about how much easier it would be if you just stay with him all the time like his purple-haired companion or his cactus pet. he fell for you first, but he makes it so easy for you to fall harder.
"why do you always have to do stuff?" "it's my job, sei." "you should just stay with me all the time. you take care of me so well."
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shidou ryuusei is annoyingly desperate for you. if isagi was endearing, shidou was insolent. he speaks before he thinks. he has no shame in chasing after you. it's quite a feat that you haven't even shooed him away as much as sae has. you sort of find a friend in sae because of that. he always rolls his eyes when you mention him. he wonders why you keep being around the blonde jock, and you tell him, "who doesn't love a pathetic man?"
when he talks to you, he just can't read a room with you in it. he's the type of guy to say "this shot is for you." and it hits the goal post and then to his face. of course he'd never actually miss in a real match but i can guarantee that it would happen during a practice match. he unintentionally humiliates himself every time he tries to be cool. if sae is there, it's even worse. he's trying to bump up the flirting up to a 200 and failing miserably to woo either of you.
he's like those tweets where it's like, "how did i pull them? easy. i just went, PLEASEPLEAPLSEPWPLEAPLELA-". without fail, he basically tries to re-enact that but he doesn't even pull you because you'd much rather wait for him to actually be a decent man and grow the rest of his brain. though it doesn't seem he'll learn his lesson anytime soon.
"did i ever tell you how hot you look right now?" "yes. you have. multiple times. today." "please go out with me." "no."
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bachira meguru is confusing. he's clingy, blunt, teasing, a little stupid but has the spirit, and an absolute cutie. he's passionate about what he likes. and surprise, surprise, he likes you. he's an infodumper but you don't mind at all. but sometimes those talks take a hard left into just telling you how much he likes you. you better hope you're strong because he will be jumping on you for a hug.
when he's just buzzing with excitement, he can't help but scramble by your side to cling onto you in any way that you will allow him to. he's not as boy failure as the others on this list because even when he fails to capture your heart, he's still succeeding in his book. he loves when you give him any sliver of attention. that's probably his thing as a boy failure. he is a hyper and needy dog who's too big to cuddle with but doesn't care. and you can't say no because then they just stare at you with those big eyes until you cave.
he's the type of guy to be confused when people ask if you're dating him and you say no. "what do you mean we're not dating? i thought this was the dating." he's never actually confessed, but he considers his "s-tier affection" to be confession enough. but he's kind of coward whether he realizes it or not. he's scared to actually say that he wants to be yours, but that's like an angsty story for another time, SO SHUT.
"what if we kissed? like right now?" "but we're not dating, meguru." "we're not? we should." "i'll think about it." "no think! just do!"
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noiryinn · 27 days
Text
game over!
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pairing(s): nagi seishiro x male reader
summary: when a game of fortnite leads to sex
warnings: amab!reader, top!reader, bottom!nagi, anal sex, crying, begging, riding, belly bulge, edging, overstimulation, reader is kinda mean, slut shaming, (minors + fem aligned dni, all characters aged up)
word count: 1.1k
a/n: first smut, enjoy! (kinda rushed and bad)
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you were watching your boyfriend play his video games, as always. it annoyed you a bit, but you saw how happy he was playing them so you never said anything.
“hey, nagi?” you called out to him while laying on his bed. “yeah?” he replied, not even glancing away from his monitor. you really didn’t know what to say, you just called his name to he would pay some attention to you. your sex life has been kinda dry, so you just said the first thing that came to mind.
“if you win that game i’ll give you a blowjob,” you blurted out before quickly regretting it. you couldn’t take it back though, since he turned his head to look at you, “yeah?” nagi seemed to be challenging you. “and if i lose?” he asked. well, you didn’t think this far ahead so you just blurted something out again, “you have to ride me.”
honestly, it didn’t seem like a fair deal, but he took it anyway. “fine, deal.” you blinked in surprise, you never expected him to actually take it, knowing how much he hates doing the work himself. nagi was a pillow princess, there was no doubt. every time he laid there and looked pretty. a part of you really want this, maybe as pay back for the numerous amount of times he always payed attention to games and not you.
spoiler alert, he didn’t win the game.
“f-fuck! [name]!” the white haired boy whined in a pathetically high pitched voice. his eyes glossed over in pleasure as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “please— ah…no- no more…” he begged. his moves were sloppy and uncoordinated, drool dribbled down his chin. his face was puffy and it was clear as day that he was wildly embarrassed.
“oh, seishiro…you’re getting sloppy, don’t tell me this is your limit? poor baby, is it nap time already?” you mocked him lightly. you couldn’t help laugh how he became such a overstimulated mess in just a few minutes. a small frown played on his face, “i’m not— agh…done yet!” nagi managed to slip out. “good. then prove it.” you condescendingly smirked at him, now it was your turn to sit and enjoy the show.
you fully took in the sight of your boyfriend. his ears and face flushed a mad red. he looked like he was nearing his limit, but didn’t want to admit it yet. the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping and moans. you loved the sound of squelching when he sank onto your dick. there was even a outline of where it was on his stomach.
with a huff, he messily picked up his pace, drooling all over himself as he made pitiful attempts to keep up the pace. “is that all you can do?” you sneered, “shut up! i can— ngh…do more!” he made a weak jab to insult you back, but really he could barely think at all.
nagi was so perfect. the way he handled your dick, moaned, his facial expressions, you loved it. his pride made him refuse to admit that he was at his breaking point. you wanted to toy with him a bit, so you put your hands on either side of his hips and pushed him down onto your dick. his toes curled and his back arched in the most erotic way possible as he let out a lewd moan.
nagi’s head threw back and he tried to cover his mouth to stifle his moan when your dick hit his prostate in just the right area. you could feel his cute little hole clench around you. he was swearing up a storm under his breath, breathless ‘fucks’ and ‘shit’ rolled out his mouth as he kept babbling.
“i wanna…come ughh— please” he whined and begged as warm tears of pleasure rolling down his cheeks. “awh, already? but i was just starting to have some fun…” you pouted, “but hold it in, will ya?” you asked him. “i can’t, mnghh…[name] you’re being mean!” he said weakly. “you can’t what? use your words…” you looked at him in his eyes.
he stared at you back with that same frown on his face, it looked like he was choking back words. you waited for him to speak, wondering what he had to say. “i can’t…ride you anymore— ah!” you slammed him down on your dick again, “you’re too big…nghh…” nagi kept rambling on, “you’re— so mean…just fuck me already…please…?” he gave you a pleading look and you sighed. “looks like poor baby can’t ride me anymore. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here” you teased him one last time before switching the position you two were in.
nagi laid on the bed, his face having a fucked out expression, both of his legs wrapped around your waist. you barely gave him a moment to recollect his thoughts when you sharply thrusted into him, knocking the wind out of nagi’s lungs. you pounded deeply into his hole. the sound of his moans sounding almost pornographic.
nagi could barely think, let alone form words. all he could do was just lay there and moan. “you are such a whore for dick, seishiro.” you smirked, he made a desperate attempt to shake his head no, but he was too fucked out to actually do anything. “what a little slut, bet you lost that game on purpose huh?” you whispered in his ear. his only response was a little whimper.
you were surprised when nagi tightened his legs around you, rutting against you for any sort of friction, for you to go deeper. you smiled at this and leaned in to kiss him deeply. he lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. when you two let go to breathe, he whispered something softly in your ear, “mm…[name] i love you…so please, don’t go easy on me, okay…?” in that moment, what kept you from holding back (barely anything), just shattered in that moment.
“[name]~ my back hurts” nagi grumbled. you chuckled softly at that, “you were the one who wanted me to go hard, seishiro. don’t make a fuss.” he just responded with a petulant look. you two were on the bed looking at each other, sweaty and breathless. even when nagi was a mess he was beautiful. “you were being mean too…” he complained. “sorry, i couldn’t help it when you were being such a brat…” you remarked.
“ugh…that was such a hassle…i don’t know why we did it…” nagi mumbled while sinking into the bed. “you agreed to the bet!” you groaned, rolling your eyes at his complaint. for an athlete, he was sure unmotivated. “can you wash me? i feel gross…” he asked with puppy-dog eyes. it wasn’t unusual for him to ask you to do things like that. “okay, okay. i’ll carry you.” you sighed, unable to resist his adorable look. though it was a bit of work, you didn't mind doing it for nagi.
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solarwoniii · 5 months
Text
꒰ PULCHRITUDINOUS ! ꒱ -- yang jungwon - ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚
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(dividers from here and here!)
✿ wc; 0.9k
✿ pairing; devil ! jungwon x fem ! angel ! reader
✿ genre; smut. absolute FILTH minors do not interact
✿ contains; supernatural themes (devil won angel reader), won is v teasing but soft dom, reader is extremely subby, pet names (angel, darling, kitten, ect.), sir kink, dumbification, degradation, dacryphilia, A LOT of corruption kink (reader is vv innocent) praise, squirting, creampie, slight breeding kink.
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"that's it angel. you always do so well for me." jungwon's delicate, sadistic voice made your ears ring as you looked up at him. a sweet hiss pushing through his fangs as his length pushed painfully into you, inch-by-inch until you were filled to the hilt.
you couldn't believe it. you were making a deal with the devil.
"w-wonnie, i-"
"sir."
you gulped, as his fingers ran through your hair, "sir." you corrected yourself, biting your bottom lip as he slowly slid himself out of you, before thrusting back in again.
"tell me, kitten."
you whined as he leaned in, teeth closing around your earlobe as he gently bit down on it, "i-i just..." you squeezed your eyes shut, tears pricking at them from the stretch when he continued to move in and out of you, as you gripped onto his shoulder, "s-someone's gonna find us..!"
"will they?" he smiled at you, "well. that's too bad for you, darling."
"h-huh?" you blinked, "for me..? what about you?"
jungwon chuckled at you.
"oh, you're adorable, angel. do i really need to spell it out for you?" he said, before whispering into your ear, "everyone already knows me. a big, mean, scary monster, with the tendency to ruin pretty little things like you." he smirked, poking the end of your nose with his fingertip as he said the last word, "but you... you're just that. a pretty little thing. you've built yourself quite the reputation, haven't you? y/n l/n... a sugary-sweet, innocent, intelligent, pulchritudinous girl. what would someone think if they walked in and saw this perfect girl getting ruined all over devil cock like this?"
you let out a broken moan as he picked up the pace, tears racing down your cheeks. he cooed at you, "awh, don't cry kitten. it'll all be our little secret, hmm? i promise i won't tell a soul about how dirty you really are." his eyes flashed a bright shade of yellow as he leaned down to kiss your chest, finding your hardened nipple with his mouth and swirling his tongue around it before biting down on the sensitive bud. he fed off of the pleasureful whine he got out of you from it, "so sensitive. pretty baby's only this dumb and pathetic for me, aren't you?"
tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded your head desperately. it was as if he sent you into another dimension as he filled you up with such graceful impurity.
he was right. only you were truly at risk here. if anyone walked in on this, your entire reputation would be destroyed.
but you were too far gone to be worried about that, as your third orgasm of the night began to build up in your stomach. your fingers held tightly onto the sleeve of his leather jacket. jungwon smirked, his tongue protruding through his cheek as his sharp fangs reflected the moonlight from the window outside the window.
"gonna cum?" he asked you, his voice shaky and whispery as he leaned into your ear, asking you the vile and disgusting question without missing a beat.
your breath hitched in your throat, unable to respond to him other than with a long, whimpery string of moans, a tiny little 'yes sir' knotted to the end, which you only managed to cry out after much struggling.
he laughed darkly, licking a stripe up along the side of your ear as he gripped tightly onto your hips with his sharp claws, lifting you to a degree and pulling you onto his shaft as he met your hips halfway, "good. i'm gonna fill you up so good, yeah? you want that?"
you gasped and shuddered at this new angle, the tears now rolling down your cheeks as fast as raindrops on a window pane in a heavy rainstorm. you could feel so much more now, the way his bulbous head rubbed against your cervix when the base of his length reached the end made you feel foggy in the head, as you only nodded your head vigorously, "y-yes sir! please w-want you..!" you babbled drunkenly, intoxicated by his devilish intrusion.
jungwon smirked at your tearful desperation, "how dirty of you..." he whispered teasingly, "you want my devil babies in your pretty little angel pussy? hm?"
you weren't even really sure of the extent of what he was saying anymore, only gasp and nodding your head, feeling your opening clamp tightly down onto him, the stretch now even more satisfying as you felt your eyes roll back, your body arching off of the desk. "m' g-gonna..!"
he chuckled beneath his breath as he watched the knot snap before him, your entire body shaking as you gushed around him, making a real mess of the classroom desk, your words breaking into torn and fragmented moans and whimpers. you could feel your heartbeat thundering through your body, thighs dripping with essence as you gasped for air, eyelids heavy as he continued to chase his high, connecting his lips to yours in a messy kiss.
he let out a soft groan against your lips as he stilled his movements, his warm, pearlescent release filling you to the hilt as your eyelashes fluttered and your breath began to slow to a more fluid pace.
the both of you took a moment to calm down, before you opened your mouth to say something, but jungwon only grinned at you, hushing you gently.
"shh... i'll take care of you, sweet angel."
✿ taglist; @hunbun07 @metalchick529 @chewryy @iraa567 @jwchn @bunhoons !
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cheesiedomino · 3 months
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Second Chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧
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synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?
genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T
now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey
[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]
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“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.
As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.
Life really can be cruel at times.
“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”
One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.
You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.
“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”
God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.
“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”
“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.
It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.
“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.
“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.
“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.
It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.
“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.
You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.
“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”
You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.
It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.
Must be nice..
Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.
Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?
What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.
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It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.
‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.
Minho 🐈:
Hey is this still ___’s number?
You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.
Yes… who’s this?
After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?
Your phone dings again.
Minho 🐈:
Srsly -_-
Did you really delete my number??
Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.
Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P
Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.
Minho 🐈:
Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)
No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!
Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.
You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.
Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”
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Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.
You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?
“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.
It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.
You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.
Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.
He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.
You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.
“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”
Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.
“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.
“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”
You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”
They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.
“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.
Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.
He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.
“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.
“Of course dear, anything for you.”
Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(
Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’
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Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.
The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.
You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.
His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.
You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.
“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.
Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.
“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.
He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.
After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.
“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.
“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.
You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.
“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”
Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”
“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”
Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.
“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.
“Hm?”
“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.
You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.
Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.
[End <3].
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nouvxllev · 3 months
Text
after party
Pairing: G!p!Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: in which you both left a party in pure silence just seconds after tara pulled you away from flirting too much with a girl.
Words: 4.5k
Warnings: pure and heavy smut like every scene is a sex scene. oh and its angry sex
a/n: i wanna consider this as the special valentines fic because the main one im writing right now im totally so damn stumped on. so heres one to atleast keep up with my stories
masterlist.
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You were too fucked out of your mind to even process anything. All you took note of was that your girlfriend looks pretty fucking hot when she's jealous.
Your breath was caught in your throat as Tara's hands pressed you firmly against the wall, a forceful thud and your back meeting the hard surface, your bodies pressed together as your hands tried to push her away but your efforts were in vain when you were met with her abs concealed beneath her shirt. Tara's lips claimed yours without a second of hesitation, letting her mouth slip inside as she explored every inch of you.
A gasp that turned into a moan escaped your lips as Tara's hands slid eagerly under your thighs, you could feel a smirk between kisses, her touch warm under your skin as she effortlessly lifted you up against the wall, all while you allowed your tongue surrender as she took control over you. You could feel her fingers slipping under your shorts, caressing every inch of your skin with her thumb, tracing the delicate curves of your ass before squeezing it sent shivers down your spine.
Her lips on yours and her hot breath mingled with your own was its own fix. Too intoxicating, yet so addictive, you couldn't get enough even if it killed you. Your hands go nowhere but to instinctively wrap them around her head, fingers possessively at the nape of her neck, letting your head tilt to create the perfect angle for Tara to deepen her assault inside your mouth.
It wasn't romantic, it wasn't delicate, it wasn't passionate. It was raw, filthy, messy, and sloppy. But who were you to care if you got to see Tara so eager to fuck the shit out of you?
She pulled away, her breathing becoming strained as a string of saliva unraveling themselves as your lips were far apart from hers, an aching sensation that you never wanted to happen. "Why were you flirting with her? In front of me?" Tara breathed out, her voice filled with desperation and want, husky but fuck did it make you clench around nothing.
"I wasn't—god," Your pathetic words turned into a moan when you felt Tara push her body against yours with force. You could feel her hard erection rub against your clothed clit, driving you wild, your hips bucking involuntarily to seek more friction than a simple bump of its head as you struggled to explain, "I didn't mean to."
Her nails dug into the soft and sweaty flesh of your ass, making you wince as she spoke, "You were practically fucking yourself onto her." Tara's words were harsh, but it made your cunt throb with wetness more than ever, clenching around nothing yet again. It took all of your self-control to not pull down everything she had and ride her dick until the insides of your pussy remembered her shape.
"I didn't… I didn't mean to, Tara, please," you stammered. You could feel saliva dripping from your mouth as your abused lips hung open, wanting nothing more than to let Tara inside. Or better yet, letting her cock drill into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat.
Her eyes bore into yours, making you feel like prey under her hands. It was rare to see Tara like this, and fuck it turned you on. "You liked her hands on you, didn't you? You even got her number." The sound of her voice terrified you, but it never overcame the excitement that shot through your spine, shivering as she tried to bring you closer to her, her mouth opened to take yours but you were never granted that.
"No—" You tried to find a voice when all you can do is whine, whimper, and moan whenever her throbbing cock was rubbing against your pussy and the tightening grip she had on your ass. "I don't want her, please," you whined, "I want you. Only you."
"Really, y/n?" Tara's breath caressed your skin, "Then let me fuck you against my bed so everyone in this apartment can hear how fucking good you take my cock. That alright with you, baby?" She purred, her grip on your ass tightening further as she guided both of you toward the bedroom. Her head leaned in, tracing lazy kisses along your jawline. It was crazy to think someone so small could have this much strength.
You nodded feverishly, a small mhm coming out, afraid that your words would just come out as a pathetic whine. Your hands remained on her shoulders as you allowed Tara to manhandle you toward the bed. The ache between your legs, combined with the throbbing need within your pussy, pleaded for her touch even more, wanting nothing but to let her dick plow into your dripping pussy until you couldn't take it.
Tara wasted no time in throwing you against the bed, your back landing on the mattress with a loud thud while her body was on top of yours, her cock pressed so fucking close against your pussy, the subtle friction making your hips buck in a desperate motion. Her hands went down your chest, tugging at the fabric that was the only barrier between her and your body.
"You know, she would've ripped it apart and fucked me so good right now."
You could tell that was the last straw for Tara.
In a heartbeat, Tara abandoned any hint of gentleness she had with you, ripping your blouse open with such force she almost tore it apart, eliciting a rather embarrassing wince from you.
The piece of unwanted fabric desperately clung near the edges of your shoulders, barely holding on as you felt her hands drop to your chest. Her fingers traced the curves of your body, the simple touch making your pussy throb with want yet again, reaching up to your breasts and then to your mouth, her thumb parting your lips as she ducked down to slip her tongue into yours.
Your hands flew to Tara's shorts, fingers frantically pulling the hem down along with her boxers, letting them slide down to Tara's hips as her throbbing cock sprang out, slapping against the fabric of her shirt. She was big. Probably the first and last monstrous cock you'd ever take.
"Tara…" you gasped, her name escaping your lips in a breathy moan as Tara pulled away. Her hands immediately found their way to your waist as her fingers worked to pull your own shorts down, mindlessly discarding them around somewhere, your wet cunt being exposed to the cold air and Tara's gaze.
"God, y/n, you're soaked," she whispered as she wrapped her fingers around her cock, stroking it up and down. Your slick gushing out on her mattress was one of the things that made her erection throb so damn painfully. She guided the head, coaxed with her own pre-cum, to your slick folds, parting them slowly. "Wanna fuck you so deep and let you forget about her entire existence," she breathrd out, her eyes watched yours in a haze with your mouth hung open.
"Tara fucking Carpenter, if you don't—FUCK!"
You cried out as you felt Tara shove her cock deep inside your tight pussy without warning, the sudden invasion making your folds stretch so damn good to accommodate her throbbing length, the pain mixed with pleasure making your head spin and your toes curl.
Tara's hands gripped your hips firmly, her perfectly manicured nails digging into your skin to hold your body steady as she relentlessly kept sinking her huge cock into your heat.
Your body shuddered, making the perfect arch for Tara to penetrate your pussy even further as she leaned down, Tara, wait, you're too big, oh shit...!" You moaned, letting her bite and kiss every inch of her skin as you welcomed her, marking you as her own as if her dick wasn't claiming you right this second.
Tara continued fucking into you, ignoring how painful it was to be inside of you yet so satisfying seeing her dick disappearing and reappearing, your wet slick going nowhere but being used as a lube for her thick and girthy cock.
Her name continuously escaped your lips along with a moan, "...shit! Right there Tara, oh fuck!" You gasped, giving her the most pornographic moan she ever heard, the lewd repeated claps of your ass meeting her hips while she rammed her shaft inside you with disgruntled breaths and grunts.
"Take it, baby," she whispered, her voice husky as her hands slid under your thighs that instinctively encircled her body, "I know you can." She slowed her pace down, grabbing your legs and folding them onto your body then returned to her merciless pace, "Such a perfect mess for me." She grunted, her hips desperately rutting into your sex.
You moaned uncontrollably throughout her room, "So... so full, holy fuck," You groaned, throwing your head back in pure ecstasy, your fists clenching, your eyes rolling back and your toes curling beneath her as you writhed under her touch, wanting more even if your pussy was already stuffed to the brim with Tara.
Your arms reached out to her, fingers gripping her shoulders all while your body shook and squirmed underneath her, "Fuck me. Fuck me so hard, please, Tara!" You begged, tears starting to trickle down your eyes while immense pleasure washed over you, your voice reverberating as she dicked you down.
Tara's half-lidded eyes locked in with yours, pure lust evident in her eyes. No longer staring at your puffy folds, her mouth hung open, grunts escaping her soft lips with every forceful thrust.
"You want this, don't you?" Her mouth poured out words with every harsh thrust she gave you. Your mind couldn't work properly, let alone form any coherent sentences other than incoherent mumbling and needy whimpers of her name. "To make me fuck you senseless with my cock until your brain couldn't think of anything other than my dick."
It was clear she knew the answer, she just needed to hear it from you.
Your breath hitched, staring at Tara as if you'd pass out by how stretched you were under her, your throat unable to form words as it was caught between pathetic gasps and moans, your walls fluttering around her dick like it was your sole purpose to be her cock-warming slut and manhandled so good by her.
You couldn't focus on anything other than Tara. Tara, Tara, Tara, oh how her cock felt so good buried inside of you, how it kept hitting your cervix with every thrust, and how it was so fucking painful yet it sent shivers down your spine that made your back arch so naturally.
"Answer me," she rasped, her hands releasing the harsh grip on your thighs that were bound to leave a mark and letting them trail up your body until they reached your throat, her fingers wrapping around it with their possessive grip, her nails slightly grazing your skin that were already adorned with hickeys. "Don't tell me you're too drunk on my cock to think of anything else."
You couldn't handle it anymore, your airways constricting with each tightening grip Tara had on your throat. "Yes!" you screamed, "I need your dick so much, so badly, Tara, my God—!" You choked out, your muscles tensing as you felt a knot forming in your stomach, your cunt clenching around her cock
"So close, so close, soclosesoclose, 'm close, Tara, f-fuck!" you whimpered, your hands reaching over her shoulders, nails clawing against her chiseled back, leaving red marks along her body that were bound to scar.
You couldn't miss the subtle wince that went across Tara's face under your harsh touch. Even if you were so damn close to cumming around her dick, the relentless slam of her hips onto your skin taking a toll on your sense of awareness, you still took notice of the muted groan of pain leaving her lips amidst the struggling grunts and low moans she breathed out. Yet you could feel the undeniable twitch from her cock buried deep inside you out of pleasure.
"Why were you flirting with her?"
Tara cocked her head to the side, her voice still raspy and her breaths were hot and heavy. The pace of her thrusts slowed as she began to give deliberate and agonizing strokes with her dick as she toyed with you, her hips slowly thrusting inside of you so excruciatingly slow to the point you'd be better off at riding her cock until your cunt spasms so hard you couldn't cum anymore.
"I wasn't…" you panted desperately, the slow and deliberate movement of Tara's hips driving you insane. "I wasn't flirting… with… oh, fuck..!" You let out a guttural moan as you felt Tara pull out, almost to her tip, and slammed her cock back in your cervix with such force.
You threw your head back, eyes rolling while your mouth hung open to deliver a loud moan that echoed throughout, your back arching in response to her plowing her length inside of you once more.
Tara continued her relentless assault, though if not slower, your hands frantically going to your face, grabbing a handful of your hair as you subtly hid your face away from hers. Biting the flesh of your arm to hide the rather embarrassing and pathetic moans you kept producing.
"Who?" She leaned down, her hot yet soft lips giving you wet kisses all along your jaw as your muffled moans filled the room and her ears, "Who, baby?" she pressed all while your muffled whimpers filled the room, her hands going to your face and pulling your arms out of way. Her voice was soft, unlike the way she fucked you into insanity, acting as if she was the most innocent girl in the room.
"I don’t know.. I don’t know!" You sobbed, actual tears running down your face as Tara kept her tormenting pace. You couldn't think of anything anymore, let alone other people who are not Tara. Sentences just flowed out of you as if Tara controlled every inch of your brain. Your cunt soaked her dick with your wetness, the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust.
"Please," you desperately pleaded, the words escaping with more neediness than you intended it to be. "Just, oh my god, let me cum!" You cried out as your body shook under her, ready for release, but you knew she wasn't going to give you that when she pulled out, a loud wince escaping your lips.
It took all your self-control not to pull her back with such force that her cock would immediately hit your cervix and you'd rut all over her until she was satisfied with you.
"Wha... Tara what the fuck!?"
You whined as you looked down, her dick still standing proudly at 7 inches with its thick girth, resting on her stomach, still hard and erect. So why the fuck did she pull out when you could've been on the verge of having the most jaw-dropping orgasm of your life.
The knot in your stomach eased slightly as Tara grabbed a handful of your hair, her head leaning down, "Here's what we're going to do, baby," she whispered against your lips, your need to slip your tongue into hers was just a fleeting thought.
Her dick twitched over your thigh, and you knew you looked like the hottest mess Tara had ever laid her eyes on, and the knowledge that your face looked like a fucked-up, cock-drunk, slut for Tara made your pussy throb.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard against that glass window," she continued, her voice low and husky as you looked over, "until all of New York hears how you're such a pathetic and filthy whore for my dick." She raised her free hand to cup your cheeks, caressing the soft and red skin you had from sobbing your heart out. "Then you're going to thank me for letting you cum on my cock while screaming my name."
If you weren't crazy then, then you were definitely going crazy now. You looked at Tara, doe eyes and all.
"Do you hear me, y/n?" She demanded, and you dumbly nodded in response.
"Mmh, yeah, yes please," you whimpered, your voice so desperate and needy as you dropped to your knees, gazing up at Tara who was already standing up, your hands almost reaching to wrap around her cock if not for her hand slapping it away. It was unfair she was half-clothed while you looked like you got railed every second. "I'll do what you want, anything, just let me cum, Tara…"
"There's that good girl I know." Tara purred, her simple approval and praise making you wet as ever. Her hands found your shoulders, turning you around to face away from her as you obeyed her silent orders.
You gave her the best possible view of your back, a perfect arch as your head was off to the side, all while offering her a glimpse of your exposed pussy.
You could feel her hands trailing down your back as your head faced forward, your eyes dropping down to the mattress. With a firm grip, she grabbed both of your wrists, tying them together with her hand while her other arm traveled back to your shoulder.
With your hands bound behind you, Tara led you towards the window, forcefully pressing your face against the cold and hard surface, the windowpane flushed on your skin. You could see every apartment that surrounded Tara's, lights turned on and some turned off, some maybe even watching the both of you.
You wouldn't be lying if you said it turned you on so much.
Tara's body was pressed onto yours, gasping for solid air as you felt the hard length of her clock sliding against your ass, its slow movement teased every inch of your body as the pleasure shot up from your spine.
"You won't mind if I use your phone, right?" She asked while you wondered how the hell she even got your phone in the first place in this position. But you didn't mind.
You weren't above filming a little video for her, especially when it came to something like sex. In fact, you have a dedicated folder solely for those kinds of videos, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a video of Tara screaming your name replaying in your head over and over as you fucked yourself to it.
And so, you nodded.
Oh, how you wished you hadn't.
Or rather, you wished you didn't immediately add the girls number in your contacts so quickly.
"Fucking hell," Tara murmured to herself which didn't go unnoticed by you. As well as the sounds of Tara dialing a number onto your phone.
Glancing over your shoulders, you found Tara standing right behind you. Her hand gripped her throbbing cock, teasing your slick folds while her gaze remained fixated on the ringing phone in her other hand.
"Tara, what are you—" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, Tara shoved her cock deep inside you with a force that left you more than breathless, penetrating your pussy so good that left you gasping for air as you cried out her name.
"Oh, God! Tara—Shit, Tara!" You screamed, your head throwing back as your fingers gripped the wall, "feels s' good, f-fuck!," you cursed, a perfect arch making its way to your spine while Tara fucked your juices back inside of you.
Her cock fit perfectly inside you, almost as if it was already molded to the shape of her dick precisely. Every vein, and every twitch of her shaft inside of you felt so familiar. Her balls repeatedly slapped your clit by her relentless pace, driving you to the brink of insanity by the touch alone. Every pleasure you felt shot down onto your cunt, hot and so fucking intoxicating.
You wanted to push her away, to catch a breath and your abused folds catch a breath, yet bring her deeper into your body, wanting and craving her more and more.
It felt so good to the point you didn't notice the 'hello, y/n?' that came from your phone.
"Hold it." Tara commanded of you, her body leaning down to yours, bringing your phone closer to your ear.
You looked at her, wide-eyed. Your lips and mind tempted to moan out her name as she kept pounding her cock inside of you if not for the abrupt phone call. "Tara…" you whimpered, "Tara, I-I can't—" your voice barely audible before her hand covered your mouth, muffling your moans when she gave you a hard thrust.
The pleasure she's giving you by simply moving and her still dick filling you up send shivers down your spine, yet the voice coming from your phone won't stop talking.
You took over Tara's hand from the phone, putting it up to your ear as you spoke quietly. "Yeah—sorry, he—hey!" You stammered, attempting to even get a coherent thought over your clouded mind while Tara continued assaulting your puffy pussy, "who, oh fuck, is this?"
"I'm the girl at the party, Cady! You do remember, right?"
You don't, really. It's all a blur.
You gasped, your head turning to the side as you tried to muffle your noises as quietly as possible, "yeah, yeah, I remember. Why—why, are you calling?"
The girl on the line laughed, chuckling even, "you called me. I didn't expect getting a call so easily after that conversation."
Please stop talking, you wanted to say.
You could feel Tara's jealousy and anger through the way her hands gripped your waist, her other hand delivering a sharp slap to your ass.
"I… I probably was—I was drunk," you stuttered, struggling to find the right words as your head ducked down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call," you breathed out, biting your lip to prevent a single whimper coming out of you.
"Well, you did," she replied, her tone teasing, laughing even more, "But I'm glad you did. We can pick up where we left off, if you know what I mean," You knew there was a sultry tone to her voice, probably even winking across the phone. "Is there someone in your room? I thought I heard something crash."
Tara leaned down, her grip on your hips tighter than ever, planting wet and sloppy along your shoulders to your ear, "You wanna tell them how good I'm fucking you, baby?" She whispered huskily, innocently kissing your cheeks as if she wasn't teasing you with another person on the other line.
"Wanna tell her how fucking good it feels to have my cock buried deep inside you?" She thrusted, her arms going to your shoulders and pushing your body deeper inside of her, "Tell her how you're begging for more, how you couldn't get enough of my dick?"
You were so glad you moved the phone just an inch away.
"I, oh my God, uhm, Tara—Tara!" You screamed out, a broken moan escaping your lips, hiding it by the fact you were mentioning her name, "yeah, Tara's here. Carpenter. She's, well, joining me for a simple exercise," you managed to reply, your voice shaky.
"Didn't know you guys were close."
"Yeah, we...uh, got closer recently," you stammered while Tara continued her relentless assault on your tight cunt, her cock plunging deep inside you, "we—oh shit—she lives with me so, yeah!"
You could hear Tara laugh at the half-assed excuse, probably the most common ones in the book.
Cady laughed through the phone once more, "I didn't mean to interrupt anything by picking up the phone, did I?"
"Cady, it's… It's fine," you managed to gasp, your voice strained with pleasure as Tara's relentless thrusts kept pounding into you harder and faster if it was even possible. "Oh, fuck!" You couldn't help but moan loudly, yet accidentally, the phone still pressed to your ear, as Tara leaned down once more and took over the phone, bringing it close to her ear as she let you grip the walls with such immense tightness.
"I'm sure y/n will forget you in a matter of seconds after this," she purred, "especially when she's getting fucked so good by me." She turned the phone around, enabling video on, letting Cady see your ass bouncing along her cock, her dick disappearing deep inside you and your back arching in pure ecstasy, "I almost pity you on how you'll never feel the never-ending pleasure of her pussy clenching around you."
She hung up before a single scream shouted from the phone, throwing it on the bed, "'m gonna cum, Tara. Baby, I'm gonna cum, Shit, shit,shitshitshitshitshit!"
Your body tensed, a knot forming in your lower abdomen as you cried out her name like a prayer, begging for a desperate release of being denied just moments ago. You could feel her hands gripping your hips even tighter, her grunts and little moans escaping her lips only drove you more into an orgasm,
Your moans filled the room, mixing with Tara's own gasps and the sound of skin slapping against skin, your wetness coating her dick. "Cum on me baby," she whispered, her fingers running across your hair as she threw your head back, "don't forget to do what I said."
"Tara! Oh, fuck, that feels so good!" Your walls clenched around her cock, your body trembling while you felt Tara's own climax shoot ropes of cum deep inside of you as she held you close, her arms wrapped around you as she came, "thank you..." You murmured, crying out, "thank you, baby, fuck your cock still feels so good inside me..."
The intense grip you had on the glass faltered, your legs giving way as you collapsed against the window, your body still shaking and your pussy tightening against Tara's twitching cock while you waited for her to empty her load inside of you, her hips still bucking while she caressed your skin, leaving a trail of kisses and words of affection down your neck.
"I love you..." she whispered against your skin, "you're gorgeous," she kissed, "such a good girl, y/n."
You nodded weakly, a smile covering your lips as you slid down the glass wall as Tara gently turned you around, planting a tender kiss on your lips.
"My pretty girl," Tara called out, softness in her voice while she tucking a loose strand behind your ear and wiping the tears away, "you did so well."
Tara cupped your cheek, all too evident that you were tired and exhausted, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin as she stared into your eyes. It was all too beautiful for Tara.
You started to wrap your arms on her shoulders, pulling her close while she laughs"I'll carry you to the bathroom, mkay? I'll draw you a bath and we can cuddle there."
You were too tired out to say or think of anything, so you opted with a nod.
Tara chuckled softly in your response, scooping you up in her oddly strong arms as she carried you to the bathroom, her touch now soft and comforting instead of harsh and cruel.
You didn't think the afterparty would turn out like this, but you were grateful it did.
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aftermath bonus:
Y: "are you still mad at me?" T: *shrug* "lost it within the three seconds we started making out" Y: "what the fuck tara?!"
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a/n: tara is the size of two apples tall (give or take), every possible bone in her body is fractured, probably losing blood by the minute, her shoesize is probably smaller than a rats AND the girl has asthma. it almost felt wrong writing her like this. off topic but i wished tumblr had a like comment thing for people like me that for some reason is too scared and shy to reply to you guys. I REALLY APPRECIATE THE COMMENTS, TRULY!! THEY MAKE MY DAY SM BETTER
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aperrywilliams · 11 months
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Under the Rain (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Reader is waiting for Spencer in a restaurant to celebrate their 2nd anniversary. What happens when Spencer doesn't show up?
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Spencer fucked up but Reader loves him.
A/N: It's winter on this side of the world, and the rain makes me kind of sad.
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Is there anything worse than your boyfriend standing you up in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary? Yes, being stood up by your boyfriend in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary day while outside it’s raining cats and dogs.
That's worse. And pathetic.
You feel pathetic, sitting in that chair, all dolled up and waiting. You arrived at 19:30, and now your watch reads 20:45. No sight of Spencer.
What the fuck?
He was the one who suggested a romantic dinner in this very restaurant. He was the one who told you to make reservations. How could he forget it? You knew there wasn’t an active case. The very Penelope told you it was paperwork day when you texted her in the afternoon.
In the past hour, you dialed his number several times. You were worried at some point: what if something terrible happened to him? But you know bad news travels fast, so you assumed he didn’t show up just because he forgot. Deep down, you wanted there to be another explanation because if he only forgot, that would strengthen the idea of how little you mean to him.
Sensing the pitiful looks the hostess and the waitress sent you occasionally, you only wanted to dig a hole and disappear.
When the clock marked 21:00, you gave up. You asked the hostess for your coat and left the place completely silent.
The rain pouring outside was the perfect scenario for your current mood. You thought about calling a cab in front of the restaurant, but you only wanted to be far from that place as soon as possible, so you started to walk in the rain.
Goodbye to the stylish hairstyle that took you hours to achieve. Goodbye to the makeup you put so much effort into doing.
Striding along the sidewalk, you made sure to step on each water puddle you found along the way as you recalled every moment in the past months you felt Spencer away from you. And not only physically as when he was in a case. It was more than that. It was each morning he didn’t say I love you before leaving your shared apartment. It was each text he didn’t send telling you he was coming home or leaving for a case. It was each coffee you didn't share in the morning. It was each animated chat in the middle of the night you didn't have.
Were you being dramatic? You knew Spencer’s tendency to distract and engage in whatever his job could present him. In any other circumstances, you could have understood. Not tonight, though. Not when it was supposed to be your night together celebrating this milestone. The two years of love you thought were strengthening your relationship. How blind you have been. How naive.
You kept wandering on the streets with no destination. You didn’t want to come back to the apartment. You didn’t know where else to go either. So you kept walking.
-
Spencer Reid is a man with an eidetic memory. Everybody knows that. He can remember every piece of information people usually wouldn’t recall. He knows almost everything about anything. But even with his big brain, he sometimes has trouble keeping track of his own life. Like today.
Engrossed in a pile of manila folders from old cases, he lost time. A task meant to take just an hour or so kept him occupied and entertained for almost four hours. Emily’s voice was the only thing that brought him back from those files to reality.
“You still here?” Emily asked with a frown. Spencer looked at her oddly.
“Yeah. I was looking for patterns in our last cases in the northwest. What Tara said about the mixed murder weapons sounded familiar to me,” he explained before rubbing his eyes. He didn't notice how tired he felt until Emily interrupted him.
“Spencer, it’s almost 10 pm. And there is no active case. You can resume this tomorrow. I even thought you had plans today?”
‘10 pm’ and ‘plans today’ was enough to bring Spencer to realization.
“Fuck!” He yelped, jumping from his seat and freezing immediately, not knowing what to do.
“What?” Emily asked, seeing the panic in Spencer’s eyes.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” he repeated over and over as he reached for his phone in his satchel.
“What is it, Reid?”
“Emily. I was supposed to be in a restaurant with (Y/N) tonight! It’s - uh - it’s our second anniversary,” he, visibly embarrassed, finished the sentence.
Emily shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Reid? How on earth do you forget something like that?”
“I don’t know! I - I don’t really know. Fuck. I’m an asshole!” He checked the phone: twenty missing calls. Why he left it on mute?
“Stop complaining and do something! Come on! Move your ass out of here if you want a chance of not being precisely kicked in the ass by her,” Emily instructed. She knew Spencer needed directions when he was freaking out.
Spencer rechecked his watch. It read 10:05 pm.
Swearing under his breath, he dialed your number, which went straight to voicemail. Putting his coat on, he tried again while rushing to the elevator. Maybe you were still at the restaurant? Getting in the first cab he found, Spencer headed there.
Once he arrived, he asked the hostess about you. The girl told him you left after 9 pm.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He called you again with no success. This time you turned off your phone. Spencer’s stomach was a knot, and his heart hurt imagining you sitting alone, waiting for him.
Were you at home? Spencer guessed you wouldn't want to see him, so it was less probable. Should he go there anyway and wait for you? No. You deserved better than that. He would look for you even if it could take all night. Taking a cab, he decided to check the apartment - just in case - and grab his car keys.
As expected, you weren’t in the apartment. Spencer faced the darkness and coldness of the place, and a chill ran down his spine—the fear of losing you forever.
In the car, he thought, where you could be. It was still raining, and Spencer feared you were getting soaked and frozen, God knows where.
It was at this kind of moment Spencer wanted his eidetic memory, and all the knowledge in his brain could help to compensate for the dose of common sense he lacked.
‘Come on, Spencer. Think. For once in your life, do it for what is really important for you.’
-
Spencer parked and rushed out of the car, hoping his hunch was correct. He was in a park. Not any park, though. It was where he met you three years ago—where his life changed forever and for the better for once.
You were in a swing, moving softly back and forth, your feet touching the ground. Your eyes focused on the rain collecting in the nook you created with your feet in the mud.
“(Y/N)!” Spencer called once he spotted you. The rain muffled the sound of his voice.
Your eyes didn’t leave the ground. At first, you thought you were imagining things. It could have been wishful thinking that your boyfriend really cared about you. He called again, and now your brain obliged your eyes to look toward the voice’s source.
Spencer was in a corner where the park's playground began. He was looking at you and wanted to run to you, but the fear you could run away made him stay there, as the rain dampened him.
The sight of you broke him. You were utterly soaked. Your coat and lovely black dress were ruined, and your face with traces of smeared makeup. He could even spot your bloodshot eyes, swollen from crying.
He caused that. And Spencer hated himself for it.
Seeing you didn't say anything, barely acknowledging his presence, Spencer dared to take some steps forward. Your numb body didn't even flinch.
“(Y/N). I’m sorry,” were his first words. Expectable but useless for you. “I fucked it up. I’m sorry. I should have been there. I wanted to be there with you,” he apologized, giving a few steps closer to you. Not looking at him, you mumbled.
“But you weren’t. And if you really wanted to have been there, you would have.” Your voice was low and husky. You sounded tired and defeated. It was worse for Spencer. For him, you should be yelling. Telling him how hurting you were. How an asshole he was.
“Baby, there is no excuse for what I did. The last thing I want in my life is to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Spencer’s voice broke with each word.
What had he done? Why? How can he be so stupid? He loves you. You’re the most important person in his life, so why did he do that to you? How can he fix it?
Still not looking at him, you spoke again.
“I can’t understand, Spencer. It was our anniversary. You were the one who suggested doing it,” you remind him. He nodded, kneeling in front of you. It didn’t matter the mud, and it didn’t matter the rain still falling. Spencer needed to look at your eyes to explain himself.
“I’m an idiot. I lost track of time and forgot,” he mumbled. You held up your head and finally looked at him.
“You forgot? So it's true I’m not that important to you,” you concluded sadly. Spencer’s eyes widened.
“No! Don’t say that!” he pleaded.
“Am I wrong? I don’t think so.” Your chin wobbled, but you needed to say it. “I know your job is important, Spencer. I do. And I never wanted to compete with that because I thought I didn’t have to. But after these past months, I think I need to get used to the idea I lost you already,” you acknowledged with a pained sob betraying you. It was the pang of the meaning behind your own words.
The memories of the past months flashed before Spencer's eyes. And there he saw it. The kisses he didn't give you, the 'I love you' he didn't tell you. The nights he didn't sleep by your side—all the things he has been missing.
He realized that although he never doubted his love for you, he stopped nurturing it and took it for granted.
Crying, he took your hands, and by divine grace, you didn't push him away.
No words he could say would be enough to convey how sorry he was. But he needed to try because he didn’t want to lose you. You needed to know he loved you and that you owned his heart. You needed to know he just realized he made a mistake, and he wants to fix it.
“The first time I saw you in this very place, you were slowly swaying in this exact spot with your eyes focused on the book in your hands. I was so mesmerized that I never thought I would get the nerve to talk to you, you know? But I did. And when I saw the warm look you gave me when I asked you if you had read the author's biography, I felt my heart warming as never before. And when I heard your laugh after I clumsily tried to flirt with you? I swear it was the sound I wanted to hear for the rest of my life,” Spencer confessed, eyes sparkling at the memory. You fondly recalled it too. You never liked to talk with strangers all of a sudden, but with Spencer? It felt natural and right.
“You let me in in your life. You opened your heart to me and taught me how to do that too. You realized I’m not the best student in those matters, though,” he chuckled, seeing your nod.
“Despite that, you believed in me. You gave me a chance to love you, and I swear loving you has been the most natural thing that has ever happened to me. You have made me so happy (Y/N). You have no idea. And that is the problem. I have not known how to love you the way you deserve. I hadn't realized what I was doing. I'm sorry. I spent much of my life fending alone, not walking with anyone by my side. And I know that does not excuse my behavior. Even so, I dare to ask for an opportunity to prove you do not have to compete with my job. Give me a chance to prove to you I can be better. I can be the man who deserves your love. Please let me gain back your love and the privilege to hear you laugh again."
Spencer was almost out of breath when he was done speaking. You mulled in his words as his hands enveloped yours, patiently awaiting your response. Would you give him a chance?
As the rain continued pouring down, your eyes focused on him, still kneeling before you with hopeful eyes.
You know he loves you. Even if he needs to be better at proving it to you. And you love him even if you feel hurt for what he did. You both would have to work to make it work. You both deserved the chance, though.
The answer to his question was clear then.
You hopped off the swing and kneeled, not releasing his hands grasp and pulling him to catch his lips with yours. He kissed you back with everything he had. When both parted, you smiled at him, and Spencer was trying to figure out what that meant. You spoke to make it clear.
“Please, just don't make me regret being in this same place three years ago.”
Spencer earnestly shook his head.
“I won’t. I promise,” he told you before kissing you again under the rain.
------------------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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freedomfireflies · 1 year
Text
Mine*
Summary: Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession.
But he's found the perfect way to make it right.
Word Count: 3.6k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*
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“So, what did he say?”
“What do you think he said? Gave me some bullshit excuse about not knowing the rule and tried to save his own ass.”
Harry tsks as he throws an arm over the back of the sofa. “Fucking pathetic. They’re all the same.”
“All of ’em,” Asher agrees with a nod. “But I had a couple of the guys tail him, and he led us straight back to the warehouse.”
“Good. Think it’s time we pay him a little visit,” Harry decides before his eyes trail over to where you still stand in the kitchen.
You usually try to keep your distance when Harry’s in one of his meetings. And perhaps this isn’t exactly an official meeting per se, seeing as it’s taking place in your living room. But nevertheless, you’re hesitant to interfere.
Besides, you’re more than content to just watch when he’s in his element like this. Like to watch the way his expression will grow dark, and his voice will take on a certain edge. The way he’ll speak about death as if recalling the weather. The way he’ll drop threats as if they were weightless.
He can be quite intimidating when he wants to be. Most of the men that work for him won’t even make eye-contact with him. And you’re almost certain a few of them have even pissed themselves on occasion.
Asher is about the only one who doesn’t flinch when Harry enters a room. Perhaps that’s the result of their lifelong friendship, or perhaps it’s because he knows he’s Harry’s right-hand man. 
Either way, Asher is the only man on the team that Harry truly trusts. Which is probably why he was invited to your home this evening.
Of course, Harry claimed he merely wanted to relax and catch-up. But you knew better. 
The only way to get Harry Styles to actually unwind and relax is by fucking him.
You fidget by the fridge as you’re forced under his cool stare, a tad apprehensive about why you’ve garnered his attention. You hope you haven’t disturbed their conversation, although you do wish he’d wrap it up.
He’s hardly been home the past couple of weeks. You understand why, of course. A threat was made to the company that Harry needed to eliminate. And you’d never stand in the way of his work.
But…you miss him. Miss getting to be near him. And maybe you wouldn’t as much if he actually allowed you to visit him at his office. But he declared it was too unsafe. He doesn’t like when other men look at you. Doesn’t appreciate when the people that he pays get the nerve to gawk at what’s his.
Although, truthfully, you think it’s rather cute how overprotective he gets.
Harry smirks as he motions you forward, seemingly amused. “Come here, sugar. You’re too far.”
Relieved to know he’s not upset, you let out a deep breath and obey his command, feet padding across the hardwood floor to bring you closer to where they reside.
You smile a shy greeting at Asher, who offers an entertained grin of his own before Harry is looping his outstretched arm around your waist and placing you on his lap.
“There,” he declares as his chin slips over your shoulder. “S’much better, isn’t it?”
You nod, face warming and hands gathering in front of you.
You’re not sure why you’ve gone so quiet. So still. Something feels…off. Incomplete, in a sense. 
Sure, the warmth of his body is doing wonders for this…lost feeling in your head, but it still doesn’t feel like it's…enough.
However, Harry can read you like a book. Knows what each nervous habit and tic means. Knows when you’re feeling anxious, nervous, shy.
Submissive.
And he knows exactly how to fix it.
“Was just telling Asher here about sending our good friend Sean a little message,” Harry murmurs, subtly pulling you back into his chest. “M’getting so fucking tired of playing all these games. Tired of being kept…from what’s most important.”
His fingers begin to tap against your thigh, maybe in an attempt to call your attention to him, but either way…it makes your thighs squeeze a bit closer together.
You feel him smile into your neck. “Are you tired, too, mama?” he hums, in that low tone of voice he knows makes you weak. “Tired of waiting for me? Tired of needing me to make it better?”
Despite yourself, your lashes flutter as you sink even further into his hold. Needing to be encompassed by him. Cocooned by his smell, and his touch, and his intentions.
You’re vaguely aware of the way he’s begun toying with your dress, gently guiding the fabric further up your legs. Giving you enough time to realize. To stop him if that’s what you want.
And maybe you should want to stop him. Should be more concerned about poor Asher, forced to watch from his chair a few feet away. But right now…right now it feels necessary. Like if you stop him…you’ll die.
“So unfair. Being kept from you,” Harry whispers, pressing his lips to the skin just below your ear. “So fucking unfair…knowing that you’re waiting here for me. Like a good girl. Laid out in our bed…needing me to take care of you.”
The cool air feels sinful against your bare thighs, but you welcome it. Welcome the chill that travels down your spine as your cunt grows a bit needier.
Despite yourself, you begin to squirm over his lap, rather desperate for some friction. For him.
And he chuckles darkly at your attempt, the one arm on your hip tightening ever-so-slightly to prevent a second effort. “And I haven’t been, have I? Haven’t been taking care of you the way you need. The way you deserve. Huh, sugar?”
You’re quick to shake your head, longing to appease him. Make him happy. Give him whatever he wants. An answer, your body, your time.
He has it. It’s his.
His hands find their way to your underwear. He’s gentle. Tame. Innocently grazing his finger over the front of your soaked panties as he hums with contentment.
“Oh, my poor little girl,” he coos, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. “Bet it hurts, doesn’t it? Bet you feel so fucking empty…don’t you, mama?”
Another quick nod, your eyes growing heavy as you rest back against his shoulder, breaths quick and light.
He adds a bit more pressure. Enough to make you choke on a whimper as you steel yourself against his chest. You grasp onto his wrist, maybe in an attempt to warn him, or maybe in an attempt to just…touch him. Be a part of it. But either way, you don’t let go.
“What?” he asks gently, dancing a few innocent kisses down the curve of your neck. “What, sugar? What do you need?”
And you want to tell him. You do. But…you can’t speak. You couldn’t really speak before, either, but now…now it’s impossible.
Instead, you sigh. You sigh and you squeeze his arm and you hope that he understands.
Which he does. 
He always understands you.
“Come on, honey. Tell me,” he pushes, the determined strokes growing a bit more powerful. “Need me to make it better?”
You swallow thickly, a soft whine melting from between your lips as you slowly grind into his hand.
But that small voice inside your head reminding you that you aren’t capable of making a coherent decision pipes up. 
Harry doesn’t share. He never has, he never will. You don’t imagine he’d appreciate Asher bearing witness to such a sight, and you have to wonder if Harry even remembers the poor man is even still in the room.
Your head rolls, eyes finding Asher’s figure, still seated in his chair. You’re hoping to call attention to him, so Harry is forced to recall his presence.
And it works, Harry looking over as well while Asher murmurs, “Hi, sweetheart.”
Your cheeks heat up as you nestle further back into Harry’s chest.
However, instead of growing annoyed, Harry simply smiles. “Oh, sweet girl. Are you worried about him?”
You nod once, looking back up at your rather cocky boyfriend.
In return, he tsks soothingly, hand coming up to brush down your cheek. “You don’t have to worry about Asher, mama. He doesn’t mind. Does he?”
“Not at all,” Asher replies calmly, almost as if unaffected by the scandalous act before him. “What the boss man wants…the boss man gets.”
And for some reason, knowing the handsome second in command is watching you makes your mind grow that much fuzzier. As if fully surrendering to that floating feeling trying to trap you.
Once Harry sees that you’ve fully succumbed to your subspace, he hums again, and presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay, sugar. M’gonna take care of you. I’ve got you, all right?”
You don’t have the strength to nod, instead making a rather needy noise as you tug on his arm and turn to bury your face in his neck.
 Another chuckle emits from his chest, reverberating across your back as he readjusts in his seat to get started.
First, he takes hold of the pathetic excuse for underwear you slipped on and begins dragging them down your thighs. Then, after eagerly flicking them free from your ankles, he tosses them toward his partner. “Hold these for me, yeah?”
Asher catches them midair, nodding his understanding as you suck in a sharp breath. 
And you can’t help but squirm, now growing hot under the realization of your nakedness to the room.
But you appreciate the way both men attempt to make you feel safe. Asher doesn’t stare, instead relaxing in his seat as if this were an everyday occurrence for him. Patiently waiting for Harry’s next instruction. Obediently waiting for him to do what he needs to do.
And Harry does what he always does. He takes care of you. Whispers things in your ear like, “Shh. That’s it, there’s my sweet girl. I’ve got you, honey. Just gonna have a little taste, yeah?”
It’s an out-of-body experience. It’s like you’re here…but you’re not. You know he’s touching you but that’s all you know. It’s all you want.
He takes your legs in each hand before pulling you further open, resting your thighs on the outsides of his. 
You’re good and truly spread now, allowing even more of the cool air to travel its way to your aching cunt.
And you shiver when you feel it, lashes falling shut as you take a deep breath in. Harry’s familiar cologne calming your nerves almost instantly.
“There you go,” he praises gently, smoothing his palms along your skin. “That’s it. Just relax for me, okay? Relax…”
So you do. You release each inhibition and just…let him. Let him do whatever, take whatever, have whatever he wants.
When his fingers return to your pussy, it’s like magic. Exactly what had been missing, and you jolt at the faint but welcome contact.
He teases you for a moment, dragging his touch up and down, through and over. Never in. Never hard. 
Never enough.
And you whimper every time he leaves your swollen clit, wishing more than anything that he would merely give you what he knows you need.
Maybe he’s trying to show off for Asher. Or maybe he just likes having an audience and wants to prolong the experience.
Either way, it almost kills you.
“Please,” you breathe, once again attempting to thrust up into his hand before pouting when he pulls away.
“Please?” he repeats, grip constricting around you. “Please what, hm? What do you need, sweet girl?”
Another displeased huff as you scratch your nails down his tattooed skin, pressing deep into the ink as if hoping to see it bleed.
The fucker has the nerve to laugh. “S’not an answer, is it, mama?”
You’re growing impatient, half a mind to shove his hand away and do it yourself. Which you don’t think he’d mind.
No, he doesn’t like when you touch yourself. But that’s only if you don’t ask permission. As long as you ask him first and allow him to either see it or hear it…he doesn’t mind.
“Touch me,” you whisper, so faintly, you’re almost sure he didn’t hear.
And you’re proven correct when he dips down and murmurs, “Again.”
“Touch me,” you repeat, a little bit louder, but still airy. “Please, Har…please touch me.”
Another tsk. A deliberating noise as if debating whether or not to agree. “I don’t know. S’kind of in the middle of something. Maybe I should finish my meeting first, hm? Think you can sit here and wait for me?”
And you groan. Because no. No, you can’t possibly wait. Not anymore than you already have, and he’s so cruel. So fucking cruel to do this to you.
“You can,” he decides, ignoring your outraged plea. “You can be good for me. Know you can, sugar. Come on.”
With that, he leans back against the couch, and turns to Asher, diving once again into their previous discussion.
And you assume that part of Harry’s little game will involve him taking his hand away from you. To actually make you wait until he’s decided it’s your turn.
But you’re more than surprised when he continues his light, feathery touches across your cunt. Playing with your folds and your clit almost mindlessly. 
“Should I send the guys down tomorrow?” Asher asks, fighting a smirk as Harry mulls this over.
“Not yet,” he decides. “No. No, I think we need to make him sweat it out a bit. He knows we’re coming. Let the fucker spin.”
“I’ll have Blake watch him,” Asher replies. “Make sure he doesn’t skip town.”
“Good.”
“You wanna bring him in for questioning?”
Another pause as Harry trails his finger down, teasing your hole before pulling back. “Not yet. Think we need to remind him what happens…when he lies.”
And just as this decision is made, Harry finally concedes to your needs and pushes himself in. All the way to the knuckle as you gasp and writhe over his lap.
It’s not at all subtle, and you’re almost humiliated by how unpoised you’ve become. But you can’t help it. Can’t help any of it. Not the sounds you’re making, not the noises coming from the gentle thrusts of his finger in and out of your pussy.
It’s echoing across the room like music from the record player.
But neither of the men pay it any mind, instead carrying on in conversation as if you’re not even here. As if you’re not dripping down Harry’s hand, soaking his nice trousers.
“You think he’ll lead us to Matthews?” Asher asks next, resting one arm over the back of his chair.
“Maybe. If we do it right,” Harry says, stroking your inner walls with devious intent. Looking for that one spot that unravels you faster than anything else. “But there are ways of making him. If we need to.”
Asher nods. “I’ll call Blake tomorrow. Arrange the trail.”
But you miss Harry’s reply beneath the sound of your own desperate whine, your chest now heaving under the stress of pleasure building within your stomach.
His thumb flicks across your clit before pressing into it, hard and with fervor. He maneuvers it in frantic circles as your pants grow louder. 
You don’t know what to do. How to breathe. No idea how to remain relaxed when he’s doing this to you. When he’s so determined to make you cum in front of his guest.
“—wouldn’t matter then. He knows. They all fucking know,” Harry is saying to Asher before his lips are pressing back into your cheek. “And I’m not going out there if I don’t have to.”
“That’s fine. You know we’ve got it,” Asher responds. “Would you still like Alec on patrol?”
“I don’t know,” Harry admits before a second finger begins easing into you. “I don’t like the way he looks at her.”
Asher’s head tilts. “Was he looking at her?”
“He was fucking thinking about it,” Harry scoffs, the hand on your hip tightening. “And if I can’t be here with her, I need to know she’s safe.”
“I can send a few more guys over. Make sure there’s someone at each post.”
“No. I don’t want anyone else watching her but me,” Harry grunts. “Fucking bring her with me before I let someone else in.”
You sigh at this. You know he worries about your safety and care more than anything else. It’s why he’s gone so often. He wants to keep you hidden away in the apartment. Out of sight from his men, and his job, and his…well, enemies.
You understand it, you suppose.
Not that it makes it any easier.
The coil in your belly tightens as he brings his other set of fingers into play. Now, both hands are devoted to you. One making sure to fill you and stretch you just the way you need, while the other plays with your clit like you’re nothing but a toy.
“We can find a safe house in Seattle,” Asher offers. “A place to keep her if you need to bring her along.”
“Maybe,” Harry murmurs, his chest flush with your back as if trying to push himself through you. Consume you. “But if they know she’s there—”
“They won’t,” Asher interrupts, almost resolutely. “They’re not gonna fucking touch her. I promise.”
“No,” Harry agrees, growling the word in your ear as you clench around his fingers and gasp. “No. They’re not. Not gonna use her…to get to me. Not gonna fucking take…the only good thing I have. Not gonna take…what’s mine.”
The energy has turned dark. Angry. Now he’s not trying to tease. Now he’s trying to own you. Remind you who you are. Who you belong to. 
The explosion of your orgasm is racing toward you, hurtling so fast, it makes your lungs ache.
He needs you to cum more than you need it. Needs to know that your body only bends for him. That your pleasure is his.
That you are his.
Even if you tell him every day. Even if he knows you’d never look at anybody else the way you look at him.
He needs to feel it. Needs to understand that he’s not gonna lose you the way he loses everything else.
And one of the ways he understands this…is by making you cum so many times that you don’t know anything else but him.
“Almost there, aren’t you?” you hear him whisper, his teeth finding your earlobe as he tugs.
“Yes,” you sigh, so pitifully wrecked that you can hardly speak. “Yes. Wanna cum for you. Please…”
“I know,” he hums. “I know, sweet girl. And you will. Gonna cum all over my fucking hand, yeah? Gonna let me taste how much you missed me?”
You give him nothing more than a zealous nod as you begin to squirm harder over his thighs, seeing that blissful end. 
And when it happens, you just about start crying. It’s so…powerful. And you don’t know why. Maybe it’s because you’ve been feeling so needy today. Maybe it’s because of Asher being here. Maybe it’s because you can feel how angry Harry is.
But it doesn’t matter. It’s everything. So deliciously perfect that you almost don’t want him to stop.
He’s gentle as he rides you through. As he mutters his praises and leans you both back into the couch cushions. As he keeps you trapped between his arms and keeps his lips on your skin. 
“There you go,” he coos, his praises like a symphony in your ear. Warming your body, your heart, your soul. “There she is. Fucking squeezing me, honey. Feels so good, you know that? Fucking missed it. Missed the way you feel.”
You know he did. He tells you all the time how good your body is to him.
And you believe him.
When he delicately takes his hands away from you, you deflate. Whining some at the loss of contact and fullness, nearly praying for him to touch you again.
But he’s got something else in mind. 
He brings the hand that was inside you up to your mouth, soaked fingers trailing across your bottom lip in a silent instruction to open wide.
So, you do. You take his large digits into your mouth, and you suck. You take everything on your tongue as you swirl it around him. As you swallow and let your eyes fall shut in blissful ecstasy.
And as you do, he brings his other hand up to his mouth. Doing exactly the same thing as you both sit there and taste. 
And the sound of him cursing with content at the way you coat his tastebuds is fucking magical. Everything he does is magic to you.
You’ve never felt so happy.
No, you’re still not quite in your right mind, but you don’t even care. Don’t care how far away you feel because you know he’s here to bring you back when you’re ready.
“Good fucking girl,” he practically purrs, palm once again stroking down your cheek. “Did so good for me, mama. So fucking good. My perfect angel. Feel better now, honey? S’that what you needed?”
You smile. “It was certainly a start.”
Harry smiles a bit bigger now, laughing beneath his breath as he drops his hand back down to your aching pussy, cupping it firmly. “A start, huh?”
You nod, a catch in your throat as the intrigue starts to build once again.
Harry hums.
“Then I guess we better finish it.”
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I know this isn't everybody's thing, but if you guys would be okay with me maybe doing a part two...I kind of love this Harry? 😭
Next Part:
~ Ours* (Pt. 2)
~ Full Mine Masterlist
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
3K notes · View notes
tojisun · 7 months
Note
OMG ive got smth else for u
Give by sleep token is sooo biker!simon coded ahhh😩😭😭
I AM THE SHADOW, YOU ARE A PASSENGER
IF YOU WANT TO GIVE, THEN GIVE ME ALL THAT YOU CAN GIVE
I WANT TO TASTE YOU BETTER
anon u are too sick for this one now im genuinely spiralling??? how do i move on!! HOW DO I LISTEN TO SLEEP TOKEN WITHOUT ENVISIONING BIKER!SIMON???
this fits sooo well with that one consistent brainworm that wont let me go since it manifested – it’s from when i was answering honey’s ask!!
how a subset of biker!simon is him and you being friends for a while but you’re with a partner who doesn’t appreciate you and love you the way you should be, and simon ofc doesnt wanna just be like “i can treat you better sweet girl” BUT ONE DAY HE WHISKS YOU AWAY WHEN YOUR PARTNER DID SMTHN THAT ENDED UP WITH SIMON HAVING SPLIT KNUCKLES, HIS HELMET STRAPPED ON YOUR HEAD, AND HIM AND YOU ON HIS BIKE AS HE DRIVES YOU AWAY AHHHH
on my knees right now???
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the way you’re crying in his arms, pressing your face on his back and it’s a little awkward because of the helmet and simon’s feeling the ridges of the visor dig into his back, but god simon’s trying his best not to explode. trying his best not to just swerve into the nearest empty lot because he wants you as far away from your shit of a boyfriend.
and when he finds an empty park, away from the suburbs and from the bastard who made you cry, simon pulls over and tugs at your helmet to take it off before scooping you in his arms and tucking your face on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. he holds you close and he holds you tight, letting his silence wrap around you. he kisses the top of your head, breathing you in, feeling his own blood calm down because you’re in his arms now. safe, loved, cherished.
the way when you ask him why’s he being too kind, too considerate, simon bites the words that threaten to spill because you deserve more than a rushed confession. so he just presses a kiss on your forehead and tells you he’ll always be here for you. always be here to help you throughout.
you end it off with your boyfriend that same night, your body shuddering with sobs but god you feel better. feel lighter.
and it’s gradual – the way you fall in love with simon. the way your eyes see him as more than your best friend, more than your platonic soulmate. and you’re scared to fuck things up, but god the way simon looks at you, all adoring and reverent, makes you weak.
the words spill from your lips on a thursday morning when you dropped by simon’s place only to see him tinkering on his bike in the garage.
you’re about to crouch down and settle on the floor the way you had always done before but pause when simon tells you so.
“i got y’somethin’,” he says, blushing just a bit. you watch as he walks towards the cleared-out corner of his garage, just noticing the covered lump there.
he turns to you with a smile and tugs at the sheet, revealing a pretty, pink, velvet loveseat.
“so you don’t have to sit on the floor w’me,” he says after a while, taking your silence for confusion.
“it’s… mine?”
simon laughs, something boyish. “yeah. all y’rs, doll. i’m used to the hard surface but i see you rubbin’ at your ass when i take too long so i got you this to help out.”
what the fuck?
he blinks. the smile slipping from his lips. “i mean, you don’t have to use it.”
fuck. you said that out loud? stupid-
“no, si, oh my god! it’s perfect!” you scramble to tell him, practically running towards where he’s standing. “i’m just- i don’t know- no one has ever-”
to your horror, tears began pooling in the corners of your eyes. simon stares at you in surprise, his face falling as worry lines his beautiful features. you try to assure him that you’re doing okay, but a pathetic wet sob lurches out of your throat instead.
“fuck,” you say, aggressively wiping at your weeping eyes. “i’m so sorry for this, si. i just- i fucking love you so much and i don’t know how to-”
you startle when big hands pull your fists away from your eyes. you see simon staring at you in shock.
“you love me?” he asks, almost breathless like he is afraid of being wrong. afraid that if he spoke any louder, it will lead to you rejecting him.
but how could you ever?
“i do,” you tell him. “i love you so much, si. i think i always have-”
he cuts you off again, but this time with his lips. his big and callused hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks, pulling you closer to him like he still can’t believe that you love him back.
“i love you too, sweetheart,” simon murmurs on your lips when he finally pulls back, your breaths passing through each other in gasps. “i fuckin’ love you.”
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so clearly i went fucking bonkers-
SORRY IT GOT TOO LONG MY GOD
738 notes · View notes
revehae · 3 months
Text
hurts so good (2)
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pairing ↠ mark x you x jeno
genre .. warnings ↠ unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating, cuckolding without the marriage, brief mention of nonconsented recording
summary ↠ jeno proves to be the perfect remedy to your bedroom problems with mark, but not without cost. the longer you lie to your perfect boyfriend, the more guilt builds like a plaque in your chest. but is it enough to make you set aside your pleasure?
wc ↠ 3.9k
a/n ↠ this the second and final part of a repost. part one here! happy readings lovelies!
don’t like it, don’t read.
“fuck,” you moaned.
“don’t talk.”
you bit your bleeding lip, trying hard to comply in spite of knowing your attempts would be in vain and you would ultimately earn yourself a smack. later you would have to explain to mark why you had a bruise on your bottom lip, and likely the rest of you, but you were of no mind to be worried about that right now. 
not when jeno was currently pounding you out against a wall.
you met his heavy stare. even his gaze made you feel small and dainty, like you could break if he just looked at you for too long. looking at you, jeno thought the same thing. you were such a pretty, fragile little thing, but you liked being broken just as much as he liked breaking you.
you wanted to loathe how good jeno made you feel in spite of hurting you all the while, but your body couldn’t lie and you were clenching around his thick cock, fighting back the most pathetic of whimpers. he was dangerously deep inside you, borderline fucking you into the wall as he tried to coax himself even deeper.
“jeno,” you cried out at a particular thrust, your back roughly hitting the wall. like he was of a mind to force you through it. 
your legs tightly coiled around his waist, drawing him into you like you were afraid of letting go, gave jeno the perfect opportunity to wrap his hands around your throat, hissing, “i said shut up. i’m not afraid of choking you unconscious if it means you’ll shut that big mouth.”
one of your arms dangled from his neck, and you used one to weakly try to pry his hands off your throat, though to no avail. jeno was stronger than you could ever dream to be. “i can’t… jeno, i…,” you choked out, struggling to speak and breathe.
jeno chuckled darkly, tightening his grip. “you can’t what, baby? say it. i fucking dare you.”
though you tried, it was difficult given that jeno had you pinned to the wall by your throat. you loved how effortlessly cruel he could get, firmening his hold because he knew damn well what you were trying to say.
he knew that you were struggling to breathe, and he didn’t care, cruel enough to choke you out even harder. you adored his cruelness because it was everything you wanted and everything you knew you could never have in the long run. he was your biggest, most tantalizing temptation. when you left his apartment that day, you told yourself over and over that it couldn’t happen again, but you knew when you looked jeno in the eye after he came inside you that this couldn’t be a one-time thing.
and so it happened again. a few more times.
you were beginning to lose count of how many times you had made the poor decision of getting into bed with him again (or, in this case, onto a wall), but you tried to fight off the urge and ultimately succumbed to your need for twisted pleasure. a kind you could only find in jeno.
it made you feel bad when you lied to mark, a gut-wrenching feeling that made you bristle with self-disgust. don’t lie to me. that’s the worst thing you can do, said his sweet voice, replaying on repeat like a mantra in your head. you could see the look on his face when he found out, the sting of betrayal. with his best friend, no less. but you were too far gone to stop now.
the most sickening part was that you had a terrible feeling that mark wouldn’t even want to break up with you, he wouldn’t fault you. he would beat himself over it and find fault in himself, which was even worse because he had done nothing wrong. 
so why were you letting jeno have what you swore to mark was only his - why did you keep running back?
you had tried to break things with jeno off, to restrain yourself and be a good girlfriend, but it never lasted for very long. it got to the point where whenever you told jeno that it had to be the last time, he would merely laugh in your face and scoff that you weren’t going anywhere.
he knew you too well. much like mark. it made you contemplate.
jeno let you breathe when you tapped his fist with your fingers and you sucked in a large breath like it was the last time you would ever inhale again. you never really knew with him.
“know a girl like you can’t keep quiet,” jeno said snidely. “feels too good, doesn’t it? you like being fucked like a whore too much to shut up.”
you tried to say no, to save what was left of your pride, but only a squeaky noise rose from the back of your throat. 
jeno asked teasingly, “do you get this noisy with mark too, or just me?”
you didn’t want to answer, face hot with shame because you knew the answer and it didn’t in any way make you look good. jeno, of course, already knew the answer. he had heard enough about you and mark’s sexcapades from both sides. he just wanted to hear it from your own mouth.
jeno grabbed your hair, not in any way gentle, and growled, “that was a question. don’t act all shy now.”
“no,” you whispered. 
jeno scrunched his brows as if he couldn’t hear you, pulling your hair even rougher. “what was that, baby?”
“no,” you cried out, partially from how forceful he was. “just you, jeno.”
jeno merely laughed and released his hold again. you swore it gave him some kind of ego boost to know he fucked you better than mark. you wondered if he cared, given that he was just as guilty as you for sleeping with his best friend’s girlfriend on more than one occasion, but he never seemed to give a damn. part of you envied his carefree nature, but another part of you wondered how he could be so shameless.
not that it mattered. you knew as well as he did that it wouldn’t stop you from crawling back.
“you’re the prettiest like this, you know,” jeno whispered, though not necessarily meaning it affectionately. “when you look like you’re falling apart, all these marks all over your body.”
you were so close to orgasm it was mind-numbing. and jeno was unintentionally going to be what brought you to the end, dangling over the edge.
“you’re close,” jeno stated, not even needing to ask. it was both awful and astonishing that he learned to recognize the signs. once upon a time, only mark knew your body that intimately. 
you nodded. then, begged, “can i please cum?”
“cum around my dick, princess. just moan my name when you do,” was all he had to say in retort.
and a couple of moments later, you were doing as told, arms looped around his neck as you clang to him and your legs tightening just below his ribs. you sang jeno’s name, and the cry was so sweet it brought about his own climax, an even sweeter sound leaving you when you felt his load inside you.
then, jeno carried you over to his bed in his brawny arms and threw you on top of his mattress to fuck those sounds out of you again. and likely all of your sense.
“we really need to stop,” you told jeno after a couple of rounds.
jeno groaned, half-tempted to duck tape your lips. “you keep saying that. then, you hit my phone when you need a fuck and you’re on my dick again. make up your damn mind.”
“but i like it too much,” you whined. 
“i could have told you that.”
you gave him a look.
“listen, it’s not my fault you keep spreading your legs for me. what the fuck do you want me to do when you’re the one begging me to fuck the shit out of you? tell you no?”
yes, because someone needs to control me. i can’t do it myself, you mused, having no rein on yourself whatsoever. your urges had a mind of their own. you couldn’t be the one to make yourself stop, and if he didn’t, then nobody would.
“don’t you feel the least bit guilty?” you asked, sorrow in your eyes. post-nut clarity was a bitch.
jeno shrugged. no, was the simple answer, but he didn’t feel like explaining himself right now. “is guilt stopping you from lying in my bed right now?”
“this isn’t about me,” you groaned. 
jeno laughed at that. “please. this is all about you,” he said. “i’m the middleman here. i’ve only been doing what you wanted.”
“you should stop doing that.”
“then, leave,” jeno said nonchalantly, picking up his phone as he pretended not to care. “you act like i’m making you stay here. you have free will. but i bet you’ll be back in no time at all.”
and you were.
it was maddening that he was always right. what the hell were you thinking? you couldn’t give something as good him up for another girl to fuck, because you knew you could be replaced in no time. you couldn’t even convince yourself that you didn’t want him. 
god, you had only been fucking him for a week and you were already addicted.
one night, you crawled into bed with mark after a hot shower, washing away jeno’s scent. you were facing mark, just staring at each other with complete awe, but a tear fell from your eyes.
mark immediately fretted, kissing your cheek chastely like he knew to and asked, “why are you crying?”
you shook your head. you couldn’t tell him. it would break you. “no reason,” you lied, whispering. “i love you.”
“i love you too,” mark said without a second of hesitation. he knew in his soul that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. “i love you more than anything.”
don’t make this harder on me, you whispered to yourself, falling apart as you let your hand touch his pretty face. mark smiled at your touch, and you gave him a smile back. on nights like this, you could pretend everything was alright.
on the other end, mark didn’t know how to feel. you really thought he was a fool. and maybe he was. maybe he was foolishly in love with you, and that was why he pretended to not know. it was almost better that way. 
he was still thinking about last friday. 
how’d it go?
how do you think? 
she’s glowing. what did you do? 
it’s not that hard, mark. all you gotta do is slap her around a little. 
i’ll keep that in mind.
still on for friday?
you bet. 
wanna see? 
mark furrowed his brows. what is there to see?
[jeno sent one attachment] when you jack off to that later, don’t let her see. 
mark’s jaw slacked when he realized what the video was. you recorded it? what the fuck, dude? 
you’re welcome. 
you never noticed the far from perfectly hidden red flashing light, especially not bent over, too absorbed in how perfect jeno had been making you feel. mark had been reluctant to open it at first, but ultimately caved in to temptation, and he had gotten off to it countless times since then.
it made no sense how beautiful you looked being fucked into oblivion by a man that wasn’t him. 
on friday when mark left to run errands, you were back at jeno’s door. he gave you a scan. he could feel your anxiety from a mile away. 
“don’t say a goddamn word,” you hissed, walking past him and into his house. 
jeno closed the door behind you, chuckling in amusement. and as if he didn’t hear you, said, “i gotta give you some credit. it’s been like, what, five days? you lasted a lot longer than i thought you would.”
you narrowed your eyes at him and snarled, “didn’t i just say…”
jeno cut you off with a kiss, backing you into a wall. it was intense and greedy, and you could barely keep up, letting him take the lead while his hands roamed all over your body. the more you moaned into jeno’s mouth, the rougher he kissed you. if you didn’t know any better, you would say he had been impatient himself. 
you were both shirtless by the time he had pulled away from you, and your bra was thrown across his sofa in the heat of the kiss. you could see the arousal in his eyes, feel it in his touch, and it was driving you mad. 
“i’m tired of listening to you,” jeno growled into your ear, breath against your neck. “you’re gonna do what i want.”
all you could do was nod. jeno crashed his lips against yours again and kissed you the whole way to his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake.
you were so engrossed in the way his lips felt on yours that you didn’t even notice the other man in the room.
“breathe,” jeno told you when he pulled back, chuckling. 
you giggled, trying to catch your breath, but when you caught a glance of the bed through the corner of your eye, you nearly leapt out of your skin, shrieking, “mark?”
mark was silently sitting on jeno’s bed, eyes fixed to you. the look on his face was so unreadable that you couldn’t tell what kind of thoughts were running through his mind and you were borderline afraid to. your heart was racing quicker than you thought healthy. you glanced at jeno, baffled, but he merely gazed back at you with a smirk.
you stiffened. “mark, i... i thought you were… what are you…”
“i overestimated you. i thought you were smarter than this,” jeno teased, shaking his head.
you were frozen in your skin, scared to speak. 
“well, i technically was running an errand because i was talking to jeno about something, but you got here earlier than expected,” mark mumbled. 
jeno chipped in, “in other words, you’re so needy you did all the heavy lifting for us.”
“i… don’t understand?”
jeno threw his head back. “how much more do i have to dumb it down for you? mark knew about us this whole time. he set you up.”
you paralyzed with cold realization. it was all beginning to add up now. jeno’s nonchalance and detachment in contrast to your nerves. he’ll be glad it’s just me instead of somebody else, jeno had once told you. to which you replied, you say that like mark himself told you that.
because he did. 
you covered your tits, throwing mark a fretful glance. 
mark knew you better than anyone and spoke up before you could, “i’m not mad.”
“why?” you asked. he should have been furious. he should have ended things with you then and there, if not a long time ago. 
mark met your eyes tenderly and whispered, “because i just want you to be happy.”
this fucking loser, jeno scoffed to himself. “because he gets off to knowing somebody else is getting you off,” jeno added. “you know he asks me every detail of every fuck we have? he’s just as freaky as you.”
mark flustered. and so did you. maybe you were a match made in heaven.
“you both annoy the shit out of me,” jeno said, deadpan. then, he leaned into you and asked quietly, “wanna give your boyfriend a show?”
it was jeno touching you, but your eyes were fixed to mark. at those words, you noticed the slightest bit of excitement become visible in your boyfriend. what he couldn’t conceal, you saw glimmer in his eyes. so, without breaking eye contact with mark, you nodded.
“good girl,” jeno praised, before switching on a dime and growling, “bed.”
you knew what that meant. with no hesitation at all, you climbed into bed and mark gawked in astonishment at how quickly you presented yourself in a perfect arch at jeno’s command. he had you completely trained to bend to his will as if you were some sort of pet.
jeno was right behind you, grinning with unadulterated pride. he knew you belonged to mark, but you were also his now in some sick, twisted way. and he wasn’t about to give you back up. “good. you’re already watching each other,” jeno commented, amused. “don’t take your eyes off of him.”
“or else what?” 
jeno grabbed you by the throat, but it wasn’t harsh at all, much more like a warning. “fuck around and find out,” he replied darkly.
that sent a shiver down your spine. 
mark watched jeno position himself behind you, silent as could be. jeno slipped your panties to the side, not bothering to prepare you in spite of his size. he couldn’t imagine it. to mark, you were like some deity than deserved absolute worship. you moaned when jeno pushed inside you, tempted to tip your head, but fought it for now.
mark could feel his heart racing and arousal gripping him by the throat. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something about this that made him mad with lust.
your lips parted, tears making your eyes burn. you could still feel the lingering bruises jeno had left on your body that you desperately tried to hide from mark, because not only were they proof of your trysts, but mark would probably kill anybody that hurt you. except for jeno, apparently.
“she’s so tight, mark,” jeno groaned like you weren’t even there. “it’s like she gets tighter every time she runs back to me. do you ever fuck her?”
“it’s been a while,” mark said, sucking in a breath. he was getting hard. 
“clearly,” jeno mumbled. 
you whimpered, nails digging into the sheets to anchor yourself when jeno picked up his pace. which wasn’t after long. he was fucking you into the mattress before you even knew it yourself, making it all too difficult to hold eye contact with mark, and you broke it, glancing downwards. it was an impossible challenge from the start, that all three of you knew.
“jeno,” you whined, trying to pry his fingers from your hips.
jeno glanced down at you, seeing what you were doing, and asked, “where does it hurt? here?”
you bobbed your head. 
instead of making an effort to be more careful, jeno pressed his fingers down on the bruise, chuckling to himself when you cried out in a mixture of pain and shock. “eyes up, princess,” he whispered icily.
you brought your eyes back to your boyfriend’s, silently observing each other with a kind of telepathic communication. you had mastered that art in the past couple of years. there was no need for words. 
it was lewd and taboo. never had you done anything that felt as wrong as this; letting your boyfriend’s best friend fuck you right in front of his face, watching each other the whole time. but he made no move to stop either of you, merely standing there like a complete fool.
ironically, you were starting to understand each other better that way.
you looked pathetic as ever right now, tears rolling down your eyes in a stream. you made the wise choice not to wear makeup today, but jeno wished you would have. he always loved the look of streaks of black mascara running down your cheeks. it made you look even more ruined. but you never got like this for mark; most of the time, it was you ruining him. you liked making mark fall apart without doing much at all.
though to be far, you had never seen this side of mark either. had you known he liked it that much, that would have made everything a hell of a lot easier.
maybe this new situation could mutually benefit the three of you. you loved the grunts jeno made when he was pressed deep inside you, dragging his cock against your velvet walls. you liked when he put his hands on you and you could feel the sting for days. and you knew jeno loved fucking you, almost as if he couldn’t get enough of your body. 
“harder,” you cried. 
jeno cocked a brow. “you want it harder? you look like you’re about to break, princess.”
all you had to say to that was a hoarse, “break me.”
that jeno had every intention of, with or without your blessing.
mark was painfully hard at this point and made a move to take his clothes off, but jeno interrupted, “don’t touch yourself.”
mark shot him a look, flabbergasted and unsure if he should have listened or not. 
jeno beckoned him to approach the two of you. it was as if he had taken control of your relationship now. he flipped you onto your back, resulting in you emitting a loud sound of surprise. “hit her, mark,” jeno commanded, watching your face tense. “do it.”
mark stammered, “i… i can’t.”
“oh, for fuck’s sake. must i do everything for you?” jeno groaned, irritated. “it’s easy. i’ll show you.”
the pleasure of knowing he was about to hit you fused with the pain of his palm on your cheek and blended into something inexplicably erotic.
“see, the freaky little bitch likes it,” jeno commented, pointing out the dazed look on your face. “your turn.”
mark hesitated. he never wanted to hurt you, that was why he had gotten jeno to do the job. well, part of the reason. inwardly uttering a couple of motivational words to himself, mark gave you a weak smack to your cheek.
“lame,” jeno deadpanned. “but progress is progress.”
“harder, mark,” you whimpered, smiling up at him. “please? for me?”
mark could never tell you no when you looked at him like that, begging him with that sweet voice. so he gave in, hitting you again, even harder. you made a noise, face turning to the other side, which worried mark before he ultimately realized it was a sound of pleasure.
jeno laughed, on the verge of applause. “would you look at that.”
“did you like it?” mark asked bashfully. curse his need for validation. 
“mm-hm,” you hummed, sighing out in content.
mark smiled a tiny bit and his eyes fell down the rest of your body, spotting bruise after bruise. he had to give you credit; you had done an amazing job at concealing them, though the lack of sex definitely helped. now that you were naked, they were everywhere. apparently, jeno only put them in areas where they wouldn’t be immediately visible. he started to kiss them, one after the other, and much to your surprise, his tenderness somehow brought you even closer to finish. 
“i’m so close,” you told no one in particular, merely putting it out there. 
“come on, baby. show mark what it’s really like when you cum,” jeno said, grabbing a handful of your hair. “gonna let me fill you up with your boyfriend right there?”
you could do nothing but nod. you were chasing relief, chasing satiation. 
then, the thread snapped, and you came hard as ever. jeno was whispering mean words in your ear and all the while, mark was showing your body in affections, the contrast strong enough to give you whiplash. you moaned when you felt jeno finally cum inside you, and he pulled out to watch it drip from your stuffed cunt.
jeno glanced to mark and asked tauntingly, “need another tutorial or do you got it this time?”
you tried to catch your breath. maybe you could get used to this.
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llondonfog · 8 months
Note
Wailing about “you love me so you’ll love my child” but w melleanor and silver
"—and do not let Vanrouge within twenty meters of the kitchens, is that clear, Counselor? Inform the kitchen staff that they have my exact permission to maim him on sight with the nearest sharp object. Oh, do not duck your face like a quivering kitten as if I cannot see that grimace, Counselor— that man has survived much worse and scraped through with life and limb and still persists to terrorize us all with his presence, isn't that right, my dear one?"
From within her arms, Lilia's child coos and babbles something far more intelligent than her trailing, fretful advisors back at her, and she taps a dark painted talon delicately against its plush cheek in fond agreement.
Lilia's child.
Meleanor rolls the words silently within her mouth, holds them there to taste the strange, but pleasant, flavor of their meaning.
Of all the fae in all their lands, who would have ever dared to dream that Lilia Vanrouge would take to a child like a fish to water, or a fledgling to the skies?
She can still hear him now, grumbling and griping so about the burden of children, their helplessness and neediness as unnecessarily weak creatures. In a rare form of mercy, not once did she pry— for how could she, when she knew the answer even if it was not in specifics? When fae were perishing at the hands of humankind's avaricious cruelty, how could she dare chastise him when she was so certain that Lilia's bitterness only existed towards himself?
Her hypothesis had been proven correct when her most trusted General had been present for Malleus' hatching, a softness that she had only seen once before smoothing the harsh lines of his battle-weary gaze. Perhaps she had the right of bias; it was only correct that anyone melt at the sight of her darling son, chirping and mewling miniature fonts of emerald flame.
But that softness had reappeared tenfold when Lilia had knelt before her in the privacy of her chambers where no other fae save for two were ever allowed, revealing the swaddled contents of his cloak with a desperate, fervent need for approval.
He woke for me, she remembers her oldest friend confessing in a voice choked with awe and an emotion that had nearly frightened her (her!) with its intensity. Meleanor, do you understand what this means? He is the son of our enemy, lost and forgotten by time, and he woke for me.
Oh, she had understood as perfectly then as she does now. It was for that reason alone that she had stayed her hand from where it had been readied to smite the child from Lilia's arms, to strip it from existence out of fear that it had somehow bewitched the one fae with more reason to detest humanity than all the rest.
True love was so rare in this world; it had taken her centuries to find her heart's desire. How could she wrest that from Lilia, as he kneels before her and bares his soul, staring down at the sleeping infant cradled in his arms with a delicate strength she did not know him to possess and the dazed look of a parent struck with the dazzling knowledge that the child they hold is more perfect than any creature alive on the earth?
She could not— the proof of which rests in her arms and happily teethes on strands of her gleaming hair, warm and soft and heavy in the sweet way of babes.
"And that is why we cannot allow your pathetic wretch of a father to ruin the celebration of your first blessing, isn't that right— Silver?"
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hardboiledleggs · 1 year
Text
Tattoo Artist Eddie Munson Part 2
Part 1 Here!
I could kiss all of you consensually on the mouth, you were so nice about part 1 I cried several times. Here is the long awaited part 2, which I am considering turning into a full length fic on ao3 so if anyone wants to follow me there here it is! Sorry it is so short! This is mostly a stepping stone for my plan for part 3. As always, if anyone would like to be added to my permanent Steddie fic tag list or the tag list for this fic specifically, let me know below :)
~~~
As a general rule, Steve considers himself a confident person. Unfortunately, there’s something about Eddie Munson that reduces him to a nervous, sweaty wreck with decidedly NOT perfect hair. Every time he pulls the now well-worn scrap of paper with Eddie’s number from his pocket, his heart rate jumps to an unhealthy level, and he stuffs it away. This has, of course, royally pissed off Robin Buckley.
“I mean, Jesus Christ, Steve. What is the point of getting a cute guy’s number if you aren’t even going to use it? I think I would have called him more than you have by now, and he doesn’t even have boobies!”
Steve crosses his arms and lets out a disgruntled huff. “Look, I told him some seriously personal stuff, okay? I doubt he even wants me to call him.”
Robin shoots him a deadly glare as she restocks the chocolate chunk ice cream, her stern look tempered slightly by her ridiculous sailor outfit. Scoops Ahoy is an okay place to work, all things considered, but Steve has considered reporting the ice cream shop to the Better Business Bureau for the uniforms alone.
“Why the hell would he give you his number, then? Please don’t be a dingus,” she snorts as she wipes an arm across her sweaty forehead.
“He probably felt bad for me, okay? Seriously. If I had told you that story, you wouldn’t be like ‘Wow, can’t wait to jump his bones!’ You’d think I was a pathetic dude with daddy issues,” Steve groans, flopping forward against the counter. His track record with guys had been, so far, awful. It was hard enough to be a bisexual man in the 80s, let alone in a small town in Indiana. One wrong move, the wrong word, and he could be arrested or worse. It didn’t give a guy a whole lot of confidence.
“For the record, I wouldn’t have wanted to jump your bones regardless, but whatever,” Robin says dryly. Her eyes are soft as she catches his arm. “Just don’t let yourself lose out on something nice ‘cause you’re scared, okay?”
Steve doesn’t look at her as he tugs out of her grip and starts organizing the spoons.
~~~
Eddie Munson has always hated places like the Starcourt Mall. There are always way too many people, too much erroneous noise, and the workers start to follow you around the store if you start touching everything that looks like it might be soft. However, even he cannot deny the hypnotic pull of a brand-new Tower Records shop.
Weaving in between soccer moms and bubblegum-chewing teenage girls, he skids around a corner and gazes above the heads of the crowd, trying to spot the Tower Records logo amongst the perms. Nothing catches his eye except a blue and red neon sign flashing ‘Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor’ across the mall. Figuring there were worse places to take a break and get directions, Eddie shrugs and fights his way through the crowd and steps into the nautical ice cream parlor.
The man at the counter has his back to Eddie, but upon hearing Eddie’s boots squeak on the linoleum he turns and begins to recite sullenly, as if from a drilling manual; “Ahoy, are you ready to set off into an ocean of flavor with me as your capt-“
Steve snaps his mouth shut when he makes eye contact with Eddie. In comparison, Eddie’s mouth is gaping like a beached trout, and he doesn’t seem to have the capacity to shut it, because Steve, “tattoo boy who he had moaned and whined about to Argyle for literal hours” Steve, is standing right in front of him in tiny shorts and a sailor’s hat and is that lip gloss?
His face is on fire, smoke might be coming out of his ears, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the shorts. Apparently, the Scoops Ahoy motto was “Serve ice cream and invade Eddie Munson’s wet dreams for at least a month!” Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot, his discomfort growing as the silence stretches longer. It had been days since they’d met, and Steve hadn’t called once. Wayne had gotten so sick of him asking if he had any messages that he’d threatened to tear the phone out of the wall.
“Well, hiya Stevie. How’d that ink turn out? Thought I might get to hear about it after you left, but I think my phone might be busted? That, or my uncle is lying to me about not getting any messages.” There. False bravado. The tried and true method of any queer man about to get rejected by an obscenely handsome ice cream salesman.
“I’m sorry,” Steve blurts. His hands twitch, as though he wanted to reach across the grimy counter but thought better of it at the last second. “I didn’t know how to call you and… so I didn’t.”
His face is ashen, full lips parted as he breathes. Eddie thinks he might never see a more beautiful thing in his life, but he takes a step back, a false grin stretching his lips into a practiced and careful expression.
“Hey, man, no big deal. I misread things. It happens! You were darling, and I am well-known for my sweet tooth.” He smiles a real smile this time and holds out his hand to shake. “No hard feelings as long as you can point me in the direction of the new record store?”
Steve stares at his ring-clad fingers for too long before he turns and starts to wrestle with the junky cash register on the counter. Something snaps as he yanks it open and fumbles for the receipt paper, tearing off a sheet and beginning to scribble furiously. Eddie is just thinking to himself that this guy must think he’s too stupid to remember one or two sentences of directions when the paper is shoved into his outstretched hand. Steve has scrawled his full name and number in thin, slanted handwriting.
A bubble of hope rises in Eddie’s chest as he stares at the piece of paper in his hand. This isn’t platonic with a capital P. Or at least if it is, the universe is mean and should reevaluate how it operates.
“This way you can call me, because I’m a total chickenshit and am definitely terrified of you,” Steve declares as he gnaws on his bottom lip. “Or if I fucked it up that’s whatever and I get it. The record store is like 15 stores down to the right.” He looks like a puppy someone had kicked and left out in the rain.
“When is your shift over? Or rather, when will you be home and sitting by the phone?” Eddie asks in a breathless rush.
Steve’s face brightens with a shy but triumphant smile. “I’m off at 7, home by 7:15!”
“7:30, loverboy. I need a ride.” The pane of frosted glass behind Steve slides open, revealing a pretty girl in a similar uniform to her coworker, although her outfit isn’t having quite the same effect on Eddie as Steve’s is. Grinning like a hyena, she pulls a whiteboard out from behind her and uncaps a marker, putting a single tally in a column labeled “You Rule” that has thus far remained empty. Steve tosses a waffle cone at her head, which she ducks, before sliding the panel shut once more.
“7:30 then. Got it. Expect my call, big boy,” Eddie bows theatrically. He steps backward, attempting a suave exit, and spins around before he can say anything else horrific and embarrassing like “Need a skipper for your next voyage?”
As he is hurrying out of the shop, he hears a crash and a shout of “Buckley, you are so dead!” Eddie grins and stares down at the phone number in his hand, trip to the record store completely forgotten. Steve Harrington had no idea what he was signing up for.
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If I tag you in error I am so sorry!! Please message me or comment and I will take you off no hard feelings I am super frazzled by the response to this series and very likely have screwed up this list. If I missed your name feel free to absolutely roast me in the comments :) I can take the heat
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strawberrystepmom · 10 months
Text
f!reader, self ship coded, reader and gojo are in a semi established relationship. suggestive conversation that turns into something a little cutesy.
“Wanna come over tonight?”
The sun is beginning to set low over the horizon and Satoru slows his pace to walk in lockstep with you, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Your question doesn’t catch him off guard, in fact he suspected it would be his place rather than yours, but he hums with a note of uncertainty and you roll your eyes. 
“I dunno, I might have other plans.”
His attempt at a lie is ridiculous at worst and pathetic at best. The two of you know the only place he spends his evenings is by your side when he isn’t working but you decide to take a bite, letting him have his little back and forth. 
“That’s too bad, I was going to make dinner and everything.”
Gasping, he feigns shock and pulls one of his hands from his pocket to wrap it around your forearm to stop you in your tracks. You bite back a smile and look down at the ground but you can hear the rustling of the high neck of his jacket indicating that he’s shaking his head. 
“You mean you don’t just want to ride me into the sunset tonight? I’m flattered.”
Snorting, you try to shrug his hand off but it stays in place no matter how much you fidget. He’s inescapable and you both know it but you scrunch your nose and attempt to pry him off of you anyway, bringing both of your hands to his forearm to try and pull him off with exaggerated effort. 
“That’s kind of a gross way to put it, don’t you think?”
You grit your teeth and knit your brows while trying to move him with both hands and he just chuckles, loosening his grip on you and allowing you the victory just this once. You pick his hand up and try to shove it back in his pocket, laughing when he wiggles his fingers in your direction and reaches for your side. You get out of the way of his onslaught just in time, pulling your hip far enough away that he can’t reach and he pouts.
“I could make it even more gross, you know,” he teases and you raise a brow curiously. There’s no telling what he’ll say next but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy wondering. He steps closer to where you stand and you lean against him, arms brushing together. “Could talk about how pretty you look when you’re bouncin’ on it.”
You slap his arm and he hisses dramatically, pulling his hand out of his pocket to clutch his opposite forearm with grimace. Rolling your eyes again, you reach out and gently rub the jacket resting over the apparently injured area of his arm and he sighs as you wrap your arm around his, tipping his head to the side as the two of you start walking toward the steps that will take you off of the school’s property.
“You’re such a drama queen, Satoru. You make it sound like I only use you for sex.”
He shrugs, looking ahead instead of down at you to hide the twitch of his lips. He’s so satisfied with himself when he gets to give you a hard time it’s no wonder every person around you two gives you as much space as they possibly can. Not that it matters to either of you - when the other is near it’s like you’re the only two people that exist anyway.
“I think you use me as a taste tester, too.”
You nod, humming your agreement before picking up where he left off.
“A hair washer sometimes.”
He hums, nodding emphatically.
“Teeth brusher.”
You scoff, ready to refute his claim.
“I’ve brushed yours more often than you’ve brushed mine.”
It’s true. Often he props you up on the edge of your bathroom counter and lets you hold his chin in your free hand, moving his head around while you scrub with an electric toothbrush and tut at him about not taking better care of his mouth despite the unnervingly perfect teeth inside of it. 
“If anything,” you add with a little wag of your head, “I'd say this is mutually beneficial at worst and almost a real relationship at best.”
He clicks his tongue and shrugs. How can he argue when the two of you are in a relationship by your own admission?
“Well then, let’s head back to your place so you can get on your trusty steed.”
You giggle despite yourself and press your cheek into his arm, wrapping your free hand around it and squeezing at the same time while the pink and orange sky fades to inky blue ahead of you.
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