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#pls forgive me for answering this late
tiredmamaissy · 1 month
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Just curious but when is Chapter 8 of Neteyam’s first rut coming? (Pun not intended)
I see what you did there hehheh 👀 I wish I could give you guys an estimated date but truthfully I have no clue 😭 but I haven’t closed that series at all so I will def be writing another chapter!
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please please please im asking because of your url, do you have/know where i can find that fan animated video where rei sounds like a heavy smoker and shes at some in-the-road cook out and asuka looks like a british hot chips girl. Rei calls shinji ugly, asuka disagrees and then realizes shinjis actually ugly and shes too good to date him. do you know what i mean? Am i insane?
i've been in one of my offline moods for a while now and mostly ignoring my notifs but I literally dropped everything to respond to this if only so that someone might see it and give an answer asap. i wish 2 god i could stand w you here as an ally and comrade but i have absolutely no fucking idea what on earth you are referring to. ill rb this a few times tho in the hopes that someone might know and drop a link. frankly you have woven a pretty rich fucking tapestry and im dying to experience this for real
my condolences:
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carlos-tk · 2 months
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lovedazai · 3 months
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pfffttt 💀
HEHEHEH yeah (づ៸៸៸◟) </3
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yuukimiyas · 8 months
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my chloe bear!💛 have you and reo ever played football together? if so, how’d it turn out?
my sweetest amira!! ᜊ꒰ ᜊ ´ ˘꒱ ੭♡ im sorry for getting back to you so late w this cutie lil selfship q!! ૮꒰ྀི ´∩∩` ꒱ྀིა but nonetheless!! lover boy & i for sure have played a game or two!! :3 most of the time it’s just him & i kickin the ball around for fun/bragging rights (bc i am notoriously clumsy & awful at sports ૮꒰ྀི ∩៸៸៸∩ ‎꒱ྀིა lmaosksk) reo technically wins when we play (in terms of the rules & skill) but he always lets me score the game winning goal hehee!! ૮꒰っ´༥'ς꒱ & ofc no matter the outcome of the game i always reward him w a smooch for bein such a good sport <33
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kuujo · 10 months
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PLS I'M GIGGLING AT YOUR REBLOG GXJZFJZFJZJF(>/////< " )
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my honest reaction when you started following me🫣🫣 its a literal honor ive been in love with ur works😭
but seriously I couldnt HELP but reblog ur post the way you write about miguel is so..😖 *chefs kiss chefs kiss* i love ur dialogue sm like i physically imagine him speaking like that and it makes me ascend to the heavens🙁😔
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mlchaelwheeler · 1 year
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me, who went through a merlin hyperfixation at the beginning of 2022 and read waaaaay too many fics:
hi sarah!!!! here are some of my favorites. i was gonna comment on your post but figured this would be easier.
after the storm (you are leaving) - canon universe, though it's technically an au since like. arthur doesn't... you know.
for want of a nail - ok ok ok, this is technically an au set in canon universe, but it is the best merlin fic i have ever read and i cannot recommend it enough. like if you ever want a merlin fic, this is The Fic to me.
(i'm begging you) to keep on haunting me - post canon, so canon compliant, and i just. ugh. the angst. i love it.
fields of gold - ok this is another post canon one that just absolutely wrecked me. all about merlin realizing how he loved arthur and mourning that loss, and it's just absolutely beautiful!
for luck - this one's just a silly little oneshot featuring the knights being sooo done with merthur lol, written by the same author who wrote for want of a nail!
also i um. will awkwardly add that i have a few merlin fics too if you get bored or you wanna check those out! 🙈
OH MY GOD HOW TF DID I MISS THIS andi i am SO sorry somehow i never got a notif for this and didn't see it until i opened my inbox (i'm on mobile so it doesn't have the notification icon thingy shfjgjg)
THANK YOU SM i am going to be reading all of those tonight 👀📝 conveniently i just finished the last merthur fic i was reading last night <3 perfect timing
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harubirus · 2 years
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ahh I think I'm a little late, but happy happy birthday fae!! hope you had an incredible day ~
CAZZZ omg hi tysm hehe 🧚💕🧚💕🧚💕🧚💕🧚💕💕🧚💕🧚💕🧚
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chuluoyi · 6 months
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the secret wife
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- nanami kento x reader
follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!
genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is
note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...
“Hello? Yuji—”
Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.
“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”
Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.
“Oh? What's—”
“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”
And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—
—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.
“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.
Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...
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Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.
And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.
“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.
One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.
“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”
And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.
But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.
And did he feel so miserable afterwards.
. . .
“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”
Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.
"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."
"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"
"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."
And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”
"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"
"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"
Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—
"I'm going after them!"
"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"
Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.
Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.
Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.
The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.
"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"
Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.
"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"
"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"
Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"
With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?
Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"
And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."
"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.
"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"
After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.
"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"
"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"
"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.
"Eh? Huh!?"
Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—
Crash!
"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.
"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"
"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"
"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.
Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."
"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.
Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"
For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.
It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.
Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"
Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.
“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”
“S-so you are married!”
“Yes, that was what I—”
“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”
Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.
Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”
“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”
“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.
"Aren't we friends?! How—!"
"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.
Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.
Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.
"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"
"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.
Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.
There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.
"Gojo," Megumi blurted.
"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.
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Epilogue
"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"
That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.
"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"
You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."
Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."
"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."
"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.
"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”
Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.
"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"
"People like Gojo are confused—"
Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."
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leclerc-hs · 3 months
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ex's and oh's - CL16
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pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo
THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 
You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.
There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.
“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”
“Already fucking other people, hm?”
As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 
“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.
Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 
“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 
He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 
“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.
“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.
“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?
He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.
So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”
He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.
His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.
“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.
The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.
For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 
“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?
The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 
The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.
“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 
The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.
“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 
The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.
You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.
“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.
You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 
And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”
The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 
His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 
“Porquoi?” Why?
“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.
You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 
“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 
His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.
“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 
You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.
His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.
“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.
“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 
It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”
You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.
"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."
“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.
“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 
You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.
“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.
“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?
You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.
“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”
His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.
“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.
The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.
You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.
His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.
“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 
Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 
“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.
“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
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crushxiu · 2 years
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Jongdae the antisocial one when he's not allowed to write to the 3 friends that went to the event with him 🥺🥺🥺 but it was so cute when he saw that Changmin had left him a message to 🥰💕
honestly big ass mood, and I know that was so cute 🥺
0 notes
cyancherub · 2 years
Note
Re: This
okay me but with Nobara I want to become her
LILI U REMIND ME OF HER SO MUCH
0 notes
sinsofsummers · 1 year
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cool about it
3.4k | boston!joel miller x f!reader
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summary: it’s that day again. you don’t know why joel’s so withdrawn, but you help him manage it in the best way you know how. based on 'cool about it' by boygenius. warnings: angst angst angst, angsty smut (sorry), 18+, mdni, implied age gap (joel 50s, reader late 20s) grumpy & sad joel, drug use, alcohol use, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, shoulder kisses, pet names & slight praise, body worship kind of, feelings but also joel is bad at feelings, established...situationship. thing. pining (but don't tell them that). romance?? how dare you accuse them of such treachery note: i am so sorry...this is pure unbridled self-indulgence. pls forgive me. also this is set in boston qz, reader and joel have a similar relationship to the one he has with tess, but she doesn't exist in this au (i'm so sorry). also i am kind of so proud of this one
It's been years since you met him, since you've begun to crack his otherwise hard exterior, helping him shed every icy layer to reveal the tired, aging man beneath it all. You've both gone to unbelievable lengths to protect one another against any trouble, or enemy, or plague, that has cast itself in your way. Each night concludes with your limbs tangled together, hands tucked safely within each other's reach. A promise, so quiet it's hardly binding—I've got you.
You've never defined exactly what it means when he calls you sweet pea, or when his lips drop a chaste kiss to your forehead in the morning, or when his hand lingers on your elbow a little longer than normal in the QZ. It never needed to mean anything, so the two of you never spoke about it. You belong to him; he belongs to you.
And yet, every year, on the exact same morning, Joel Miller wakes up a stranger to you. His eyes return to the icy dark depths that you met him with, and his hands find purchase in his pockets rather than absentmindedly rubbing circles on your skin. Every year, without fail, he retreats to his past, a place he won't ever let you see, despite your every wish.
i came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask
A few years after you met him, you had tried asking him to explain, to let you into his head. It wasn't an attempt at intimacy, or a vulnerability that resembled anything that you hadn't seen from him before, but he'd done nothing more than shake his head.
"M'fine," he'd said. The entire day, every time you asked, no matter how softly, his answer remained unchanged. "Don't feel much like talkin'."
So instead of talking, you'd resorted to letting him come back to you on his own time, in his own way. With rough hands pushing you down to lay on your back, his eyes far away even as he brought you to the edges of bittersweet ecstasy. His kisses were always softer, more distracted. But it was the only communication you ever got out of him on those days.
When he rolled over at night, his hands curled into loose fists, you let him be. He never refused your touch, but you knew enough to recognize when it wouldn't come as any comfort to him. Not on those nights. Never on those nights.
The closest you'd get to falling asleep in his arms on those nights was with a hand placed purposefully between your chest and his back, just close enough that he might lean into it, should he shift in his sleep. And in those soft brushes of skin against cloth lay a million questions.
Forgive me, you'd begged inwardly one night. Forgive me for not understanding, and I'll forgive you for not sharing.
When the sun rose on a new morning, he was always back to the man you were used to, that you had grown dependent on. When his hands reached for you, and when his mouth painted swirls on your chest, you knew that it was out of want for you, not to distract himself from the ghosts of his own past.
He always praised your body's reaction to him, and you always relished in the way that his hips rocked against yours, stretching you out for him—tongue, fingers, his hard intrusion—on those mornings after.
You'd left it at that, for a year or two.
once i took your medication to know what it's like
He'd been resorting to more intense solutions when you decided to do it. When that day came as it always did, you watched as he drowned out the hours with whiskey and pills. You never knew where his supply came from or who was responsible for getting him his drug of choice; you could only sit idly by and watch his features droop from the effects of the dangerous combination, shuffling to your shared bed before he'd pass out until the sun rose on the next morning.
It only took three instances of this before you'd resolved to go through the day exactly as he would, as if it might help you understand. Perhaps it wasn't anything you were meant to understand, but you'd grown weary of seeing him motionless for hours on end. Usually, you never said anything. You didn't really believe he would take enough to cause any real damage; you were blindly faithful in his will to live.
"Joel," you'd said one year. That was all. One syllable, so familiar, and yet it bled with enough warning in your tone that he paused. Don't.
Glass raised, the rim already pressed to his lips—the lips of which you knew every crack and curve—pills already dissolving on his tongue, he'd paused. His eyes never looked at you, though. He sat there, frozen but for the whiskey sloshing gently in the glass before he resumed, swallowing the dark liquid in one go. With hardly a glance in your direction, he'd collapsed to the bed.
You didn't know exactly why you did it, or why it had been that year that you'd become fed up, but you couldn't ignore the fear that struck your chest when you saw him hit the mattress. Before you knew it, you'd swallowed the pills, scowling at the burn of whiskey down your throat.
It had never been your choice of liquor, but you braved the sting in your foolish hopes that it might tell you something about the gray-haired man in your bed. Like drinking his whiskey might envelope you in his arms and whisper his secrets to you.
Laying down beside him, you'd curled up to his side. He was already deep in his drugged slumber; he wouldn't be conscious enough to move from your touch. With a hand on his chest, poised over his heart to reassure yourself that he still had one, you closed your eyes and succumbed to the heavy press of sleep.
When he woke, saw your own empty glass and pill bottle left open on the table, he shook you until you startled awake. Eyes bleary, the effects of the drugs wearing off, you caught him staring down at you, his nose brushing your cheek and his lips a hair's breadth from touching yours.
"Don't ever fuckin' do that again, sweet pea," he snarled, but his words held no malice. You tried to ignore how big his eyes were, pupils blown wide.
You'd wanted to snap at him, to tell him the same thing, but you heard the desperate begging in his voice. The unspoken please. So rather than causing a scene, you'd nodded slowly and let your fingers brush the hem of his shirt. "Okay," you'd whispered. "I won't. Never again, Joel," you repeated, a mantra as you slipped your hands underneath his shirt.
Sliding his arms under your body and pulling you to him, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, then your cheeks, both of your eyelids. He finally bent to your lips, chasing the taste of you and finding only his own mistakes on your tongue.
The day had passed. He had survived. With the gentle lull of his hips slotting against your own, he had breathed shakily into your mouth as your hands wandered along his skin. Like clockwork, Joel Miller had returned to you, if only for a short while.
i ask you how you're doing, and i let you lie
One day, the pills ran out. The whiskey didn't do anything on its own, so Joel was stuck to find something else to distract him. Whether you were the one that flushed his pills or found who was supplying him, you'd never admit. It was much too close to a confession of something than either of you were comfortable with, so you'd stayed quiet. Helped him find a new vice.
These days, you've lost count of how many years you've seen him withdraw into himself, a shell of the man you know. You've stopped trying to follow where his mind goes when the sun rises on that early autumn day, and he's never made the attempt to explain. For just one day a year, the two of you are silent except for a few mumbled words. Your hands rarely touch on those days, always a few centimeters from each other as he sits at the table.
A reminder. That you're there, that he's there, and that the day will pass. It always does.
His new vice becomes you before long, and you can manage that. He's never particularly rough on those days, anyway; he just needs your body to distract his mind. It takes him a bit to sink into the comfort of your curves, but you always help him get there. Until he's twitching under your hands and letting his eyes flutter closed as you expertly undo his jeans.
You never make him fuck you when he's like this, but you're happy to oblige when he slips a hand between your thighs, reaching for your core and always finding it ready for him. If it pleases him, you let him take whatever he needs.
With whispered moans that make your chest constrict and rough fingers pressing bruises to your hips that he'll kiss away the next morning, he gets through the day.
Today, you know it's not one of those mornings. He's already been awake for a while when you open your eyes, based on his tense posture as he sits on the edge of the bed. He's facing the window, which means his back is to you, withholding his face from yours.
Of course, you don't need to look at him to know what his face will look like. His chin is tucked toward his chest, and his eyes will be closed, hands clenched together as if in prayer. But you know better than to think of Joel Miller as a spiritual man. Whatever faith he might have had all those years ago has withered into scraps. His only faith is in your constant presence in his bed each night.
You sit up slowly, and the sound of rustling sheets makes him twitch his head to the side, the sight of his jaw ticking the only acknowledgement of you being there. With slow movements, you move to sit behind him, your legs on either side of his hips but never close enough to touch. He's gotten better at allowing for a few more moments of contact, and you think this means he's making progress.
How could you ever be sure, though? When he still won't reveal the pain of today?
"Did you wake up to see the sunrise?" you ask gently, leaning forward and bracing your hands in front of you, waiting. His response will determine how you'll distract him for the coming hours.
As usual, Joel doesn't say anything, but his back reclines an inch. It's all you need.
"I'll bet it was real pretty," you continue, trying to keep your voice soft. This is one of your many routines; you lift your hands and press them to his back, just enough for him to feel your fingertips. You don't know if he listens to anything you say, or if he even cares. This part is just for you. This is how you get through these days.
You lean just a bit further, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. Your hands slide around his middle and your stomach flips selfishly at the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath your featherlight touch. Reaching down for his lap, you rest your palm against his jeans, feeling him twitch against your hand. There he is.
Maybe it's sad, maybe it's fucked up, but fuck what anyone else would say. This is what he needs, the only thing that helps him stay out of his nightmarish memories, whatever they may be. You'll never ask him to show that side of himself, not anymore.
Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you deftly work the button on his jeans, pushing the zipper down and reaching into his waistband until his half-hard cock comes free. It rests heavy in your hand, and you're comforted by the weight of it. His shoulders are too broad for you to see it, but you're not bothered by this. With another kiss, this one landing on the soft skin of his neck, you give him a languid stroke.
Joel's chest rises and falls as he breathes, and you can feel his arousal stirring as he grows firmer in your grip. His hands begin to unclench, but his fingers remain flat on his tights, never touching you outside of where your legs are hooked to his, your chest flush with his back.
The room is silent except for his breathing, every second getting more shallow. You can feel the tension in his back release a little, and you let your thumb rub a slow circle over the slit on his tip, precum just starting to leak onto your hand.
You stay like this for a few minutes, one arm wrapped around his stomach and your other hand on his cock, tugging slow enough not to overwhelm him, and fast enough to keep him pulsing in your hand.
Only when his hips buck involuntarily do you let go, moving from your place behind him to the floor. Your knees hit the wood hard, but you ignore the pain as your hands slide up his thighs.
His own hands remain still on his jeans, and he lets you interlock your fingers with his own. A small mercy. Today might not be as bad as the years before, and you dip your head to lick a stripe from base to tip before closing your mouth around the head of his cock.
Joel's fingers twitch in your grasp, and you squeeze back, hardly noticeable. Just enough to act as thanks. Thank you for letting me do this. For you.
You never look up, afraid of what his eyes will betray when your mouth is around him. You know this is only a distraction, a slow respite from his thoughts. So you ignore the impatient pulse between your thighs and take him as deep as he'll go, your hopes lifting when you hear his shaky sighs.
One of his hands released yours and lands on your head, smoothing your hair as his hips fight to keep still. Your head bobs up and down, your spit mixing with his precum to leave a shining mess on his shaft.
He pats your head softly, the wet sounds of your mouth on him the only noise in the room. But then he's opening his mouth, and he's combing his fingers through your hair, and he's mumbling, "thank you, sweet pea," just quiet enough that you think you're imagining it.
Maybe you did. He doesn't say it again, and you don't look up to see how wrecked he looks. You're content to remain on your knees the entire day if it means he can relax, let go of whatever's haunting him.
But then he's pulling your head back, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. Hands under your arms, he tugs you to stand in front of him. This time you do let yourself look at him, but his eyes don't lift to meet yours. He tugs your shorts and panties from your body, and once you step out of them he splays his hands on the backs of your thighs to pull you onto his lap.
His head is still tipped toward where your bodies rest against each other, rocking your pelvis against the length of his cock with a shuddering sigh. But you don't mind the view; you sit just a few inches taller than him in this position, so you can brace yourself against his shoulders, your chin resting against the top of his head.
He reaches down to rub a few quick circles on your clit, and you let him move your hips when he's ready, lodging his cock at your entrance. You're dripping, you have been this entire time, but you'd shoved down the heady desire that had punched its way through your body until he was ready. Now, with his hand guiding his tip into your sopping cunt, you let out a breath. There he is, a voice in your head repeats.
He pushes your hips down at an agonizingly slow pace, your pussy swallowing every inch of him, the sounds of your moans colliding at the feeling. "So good to me," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your sternum and tilting his head back, closing his eyes. "Perfect."
You know that he doesn't think he deserves your praise, but you give it to him anyway. "That's it," you hum, squirming with his cock buried to the hilt. It's all you can do not to lift your hips and drag yourself up and down his length. "Take what you need, Joel."
He never lasts long when he can feel your walls squeezing his cock for all it's worth, your body betraying you when your mind just wants to remain warm and wet and ready for him all day long, until he's ready to be done with you. But with one look at you, his dark eyes finally connecting to yours, he blinks. "Thank you, sweat pea," he murmurs again.
You lift your thumb to his forehead and you trace the lines on his weathered skin, watching as your touch releases the tension from his face. All that's left is his desire, his need for you, however distracted it may be.
Joel lets himself enjoy this, as he rocks his hips into yours, the head of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you until you're shaking in his hands, forehead tipped against his as you let your moans fill the space between the two of you. He lifts your hips, pulling you nearly all the way off of him until he shoves you back down, the delicious squelch of your pussy on his cock wrenching a knee-buckling groan from his lips. "Where?" he asks, as he does every time.
You don't need to tell him, but you do. "Fill me up, Joel," you coo, a shot of pleasure spreading throughout your entire body. "Come with me, I'm right here with you."
"That's it, darlin'," is all he groans before he's wrapping his arms around your back, tugging your chest to him in a tight embrace. His face disappears into the space between your breasts and you feel his entire body quiver with yours as you reach your peak. Warmth floods your core as he spills his release into you, your walls fluttering with the intensity of your orgasm. You pull him to you, returning his near-painful embrace.
You're as close as lovers, as close to one another as you can physically get, but it'll never be enough.
The high after he comes inside you is fleeting. Only a few minutes pass before the line inevitably returns to his brow and his frown deepens after he softens. He doesn't lift you off of him, though, so you soak up the feeling while you can.
"Better?" you whisper, eyes locked on his.
He nods slowly after a moment, his mouth set in a grim line. "Always," he mumbles gently, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes your bottom lip. He presses his thumb into your mouth to the first knuckle, letting you taste salt and old sweat and your nectar on his skin.
You know better than to believe him, but you don't argue. Not today, never today. So you lift the corners of your lips in a sad smile and pretend that it doesn't feel like water rising in your lungs every time this day comes.
but we don't have to talk about it
i can walk you home and practice method acting
i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning
tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing
even though we know it isn't true
Joel will never tell you what's on his mind. Never today. September 26th won't ever mean anything to you, so why would he bother? For him, it's everything and nothing all at once. Brown curls and sparkling young eyes and blood crusted on his arms and the unforgettable weight of death in his arms.
Another year older, he sighs, his heart clenching in grief. Another year older, and another year further from everything he's lost.
tysm for reading, here's a box of tissues. :') i love u all
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crying-wolves · 10 months
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🪻 ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴀᴛʀᴇ ᴇᴍᴘʟᴏʏᴇᴇ!ᴀʙʙʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ 🪻
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cw: 18+ MDNI!!! little bit of richgirl!abby, anxious!abby, little bit of loser!abby but i’ll let you be the judge of that, alt!reader, reader w/ tattoos + piercings, reader doesn’t care about their job, abby and reader are, like, 18 - 20, mostly fluff, petty theft, minor drug use (abby and reader get a teensy bit high), nsfw under the cut!
a/n: this is ENTIRELY self-indulgent cause i work at the movies and i think i would've liked my job better if Abby was there with me :) thank u so much for reading i love u so much i hope u enjoy &lt;3
wc: 1.3k (a lot longer than i was expecting pls forgive me)
not proofread! im so eepy
dividers by @cafekitsune !
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🪻movie theater employee!abby whose family is, as she likes to put it, ‘relatively well off’, so she’s never had to get a summer job before… 
…but when her father emails her an application from their local theater, going on and on and on about how she could manage to learn a thing or two about responsibility and time management and a hundred other things she’s apparently lacking in, she doesn’t see any other option but to piece together a meager resume and send it in.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a response back almost immediately, because they’re just that desperate for new hires.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who shows up to her interview the next week in pressed black dress slacks and a perfectly ironed blue button-up, only to be met with the hiring manager’s tattered black jeans and stained work shirt.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s nervous as fuck during the interview and thinks that she’s taking too long to answer simple questions and tripping over her words, but the manager hires her on the spot, in like, 10 minutes.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who calls her dad on the ride back home to tell him the good news, is met with balloons that say ‘congrats!’ in big sparkly letters on the front and her favorite take-out when she steps through the front door.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who arrives on her first day on the job 20 minutes early. Spotless, bustling with excitement, and so, so unprepared to deal with all that’ll happen in the day.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who is introduced to you, after you arrive 10 minutes late, fruity energy drink in hand and sunglasses still hanging on the tip of your nose as your new trainee.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who initially thinks she’ll evaporate in the stuffy heat behind the concessions counter, suddenly feels an icy-cool wave move through her body when you shoot her a lopsided smile.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who can hardly hear a word you say as you explain what all the buttons on the register screen do… 
…‘cause she’s too focused on the way your work pants cling to your thighs and flare out at the bottom. on the pretty tattoos sneaking up and down your right arm. on the shiny lip ring that a part of her strangely wants to lick at–
🪻movie theater employee!abby who squeaks out a “yep, yeah! uh, got it!” when you ask her if she has any questions.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who definitely does not got it. Not one fuckin’ bit.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who fucks up a whole lot, at first, and manages to oversalt a batch of popcorn, stock too much of the same candy, overcharge 3 separate customers, spill a strawberry soda all over the counter, get scolded by 2 old men, and burn herself on the hotdog grill.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who smells like butter and exhaustion by the end of her 4 hour shift, but brightens up when you tap a star-shaped sticker onto her shirt and mumble out an amused “see you tomorrow, trainee.”
🪻movie theater employee!abby who realizes she has to do this all tomorrow again and lets out a shaky sigh on the way back to her car
🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s slowly getting the hang of it after a few weeks at the theater…
…getting compliments from customers, multitasking between different orders, knowing the back room as well as she does the flavors of the drinks you silently sip during your shifts.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s a little enthralled by you, even if you don’t really notice it.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s too afraid to ask for your number, so scours instagram for your contact instead.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who throws her phone across her bedroom when you finally follow her back one night.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who super smoothly asks you when you’re working so she can try to arrive at her shifts when you go on break.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who freezes up when you invite her over to the park bench in front of the theater and offer her some cajun fries and a hit from your cart.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who takes you up on both offers, because she’s starving and she wants you to think she’s cool.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who takes a bigger hit than you were expecting and is a little confused when you giggle at her sudden coughing.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who spends the next 7 hours of her shift trying to act normal, but sees you trying not to bust out laughing in the corner of her eye every few minutes.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a lot closer to you after that…
…who watches you undercharge a frazzled mother on her kid’s birthday, and doesn’t say anything to the supervisor. who sees you swipe a few chocolate bars from the candy cart to give to a group of kids in the arcade. who is certain of your favorite slushie flavor because your lips are always some different color everytime you come back from your too-long bathroom breaks.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who argues about which book-to-movie adaptation is the absolute best when the day’s going by slowly.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who sneaks into different showrooms where the movie has already been playing for a while with you so you guys can guess what’s happened in the plot before.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who hides with you in the stockroom to take a break from the yelling customers and screaming kids every once in a while.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who traces the outlines of your tattoos, all heart-eyed while she’s listening to you talk about the new superhero movie that just came out a week ago.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who places a hand at the small of your back when she has to squeeze by you to grab a bucket of popcorn for a customer.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a little green with jealousy when a customer compliments your piercings or makes a joke that really isn’t that funny to begin with, but you laugh anyways cause you’re required to be cordial with them.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s so stupidly thrilled when you kiss her after a rough closing shift and can hardly breath when she climbs into her car to drive herself home.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who is so very happy that her dad convinced her to get this stupid job in the first place.
SMUT UNDER THE CUT ! 18+ MDNI!
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🪻movie theater employee!abby who lets you eat her out in the tiny bathroom stall in the women’s room on nights when the theater is dead… 
…your left hand squeezing at her tits, your right stretching her left leg over your shoulder. She looks down at you, panting, shuddering, trying and failing to conceal the little huffs and content sighs that fall from her lips every time your tongue swipes against a particularly sensitive spot.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who makes out with you in the backseat of her car when your breaks coincide, and whines in pleasure as you grind your clothed cunt against her covered thigh.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who can feel her hand start to shake and her throat go dry as she scurries to the back when you call her from your bedroom, voice all pitched-up and needy, while on your day off. Words strained and quickening wet sounds coming from your background.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who almost gasps when you two are the only ones working the concessions counter and she feels your hand slide from her lower back to squeeze her ass.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s obsessed with the way you watch her expressions as you slowly finger her in the empty break room.
🪻movie theater employee!abby who hates that she won’t see you until next summer, but has a million different secret pictures and texts from you that she has saved in a locked file on her phone to get her through the year <3
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thndrs-wrtr · 7 months
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Hello!! That Chan pic with the baby is just sjdjsjdj and the entire video, lord. I was wondering if u could write something like thar pls, needing fluff dad Chan 🥹
OMG YES. ABSOLUTELY . Also, golden star for you for being my first request ⭐️
Let's see what I come up with.
Warnings: Dad Bangchan. Fluff, extreme domestic fluff.
Big hugs
Ever since Chan came back to work after his hiatus, he promised he would come back home earlier. In the end, he had to come back not only to his house, but to his home. It wasn't just you waiting for him, now there was a tiny little human being that would wait for him.
However, Chan's promise was forgotten that day. It was already 10pm and he was nowhere to be seen. The apple didn't fall far from the tree, for Daesung refused to sleep for the entire day. No nap time, and he was definitely far from falling asleep anytime soon. He's definitely his son, you thought when the tiny almost two year old refused closing his eyes.
Walking around the place, singing, showing him toys, begging, anything worked. Instead, his tears kept flowing and so did your stress. His diaper was clean, he ate his dinner, he didn't seem to be hurt, the thought of taking him to the hospital faded when he finally sat still on the floor and started playing with his toys, and if he was not sleeping, at least he have you some peaceful minutes to a quick trip to the bathroom.
Chan finally arrived home, quietly. He smiled when he saw the boy giving his entire attention to his tiny, tiny guitar, pulling the nylon strings one by one, thank you uncle Han for the present.
He hid behind the wall, just showing his face when he finally spoke, calling the baby's attention.
"Hello there"
His dimples appeared on his cheeks and his eyes became smaller thanks the smiling expression. The baby quickly turned around, and started moving his legs and arms in an attempt of getting up.
The older man left his hiding and went straight to him, kneeling as to pick him up. Daesung started giggling right away, gripping onto Chan's shirt without hesitation.
"Your eyes are so red, had you been crying, hm? No, don't cry! Let's whipe those eyes, yeah? Don't cry, I've got you, ok?."
He said with a downward smile, rubbing his nose against the chubby cheek after cleaning the dry tears on his cheeks, making you melt right away when you appeared in the room once again, leaning in the doorframe for a few seconds while Chan didn't notice you.
"Two good looking boys and I look like if I'm back from a camping night" you said in between giggles.
"Ah, baby" Chan laughed as well, walking towards your way and kissing your shortly as a hello. "I'm sorry, yeah? I knew I said I'd arrive early and-" you cut his words.
"Watch him while I take a quick shower. I need it. Then I'll forgive you."
"Sounds like a fair deal"
Chan agreed, and his attention went back to Daesung. He lifted him in his arms in swift motions, the baby giggling and kicking his legs whenever Chan would lift him up in the air, and then back down using his mouth to immitate the sound of a rocket. Their tiny game continued for a few minutes, until Chan took him back to the bedroom.
"Shall we put you on your pj's, yeah?" He said with a kind of high pitched voice, "yeah, you need to be in your pj's. Is late and you gotta sleep, ok?" He told him as if he'd get a solid answer in return.
"I wrote so many verses for you today, probably a bit cheesy but yeah. Ah, you're gonna hate me when you're fifteen aren't you"
Chan giggled while he was changing Daesung into his onesie. He leaned forward, gently tickling the boy's belly, and the multiple "nom noms" on his neck, hands and belly didn't take long in appear, making the baby giggle and kick his feet at his dad's attention.
You had no idea how time you spent taking your quick shower, but after a long day after barely eating, constantly trying to calm down Daesung's crying, you really needed some time alone, and you knew Chan had it all covered outside.
However, when you got out the silence made you worried. Usually, Chan would be singing, or holding conversations with no replies back other than babbles, or music playing in the background. But now? Silence. Pure, and absolute silence.
The dim light of your bedroom made you walk towards it, the scene making you feel like sit down in that same spot and cry.
An unsual, asleep shirtless Chan under the sheets, accompanied by the image you wanted to see the entire day. Daesung finally, finally asleep. And not only asleep. He was soundly asleep using Chan's chest as bed, his tiny hands holding onto him while Chan's arms were perfectly wrapped around him a very, very big hug.
You walked towards them very cautiously, keeping your hand on Daesung's back for brief seconds as you leaned forward to kiss his head, repeating the gesture but this time on Chan's temple. Apparently, someone was refusing to sleep without his dad.
And you understood your son perfectly, you couldn't fall asleep easily when Chan wasn't there, how could you, if not wrapped in his arms?
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lesbiankimdahyun · 9 months
Text
Dry Spell
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4.0k words
Requested: Yes 
CW: GP!Nayeon, GP!Jihyo, breeding kink, sorry i know this is so long for just some smut pls forgive me
[Top!Nayeon x F!Reader x Top!Jihyo] 
You awoke early in the morning. The sex dream you’d just had dissipated quickly from your memory as you opened your eyes to check the time. 
Six thirty. 
You yawned and rolled over, wanting to sleep more, but then realized your body wasn’t going to let you off so easily. You couldn’t even remember what had happened in the sex dream, but now you were wet. Annoyingly wet. 
You’d been having frequent sex-related dreams lately, probably due to the dry spell you were going through. Normally you wouldn’t be so bothered by it, but these days you felt very (hot and) bothered thanks to your roommates, Nayeon and Jihyo.
Maybe it was the lack of sex, or maybe they’d always been that attractive, but recently you found yourself sneaking glances at them more and more. It made you feel guilty at first— these were your friends, after all! Who looks at their friends like that? 
They weren’t new friends to you, either. Nayeon and Jihyo had known you for a few years now, and you recently all became roommates in addition to friends after signing a lease on a three bedroom apartment a couple months ago. Since moving in, you’d all been spending a lot of time together. They were growing more touchy feely with you, which was nice, but confusing at times. 
You’d all cuddle while watching Netflix together, for instance. Jihyo would wrap her arm around you while you held Nayeon. Sometimes, especially if you’d watched a horror movie, Nayeon would crawl into your bed late at night and sleep with you. And recently, Jihyo had started waking you up on weekday mornings. You were not a natural early riser and normally hated getting up early, but you let her, because you knew that when she gently knocked and peeked in your bedroom, what she really wanted was for you to follow her back to her room to snuggle with her in her bed. Sometimes, on the occasional morning when knocking wasn’t enough to wake you, she’d throw a stuffed animal at your bed to get you up, usually her stuffed unicorn. Never at your head, but it always landed on you or next to you– just enough of a disturbance to wake you. 
Now it was summer, and all of you frequently slept shirtless but continued to share beds. Nayeon would wrap herself around you, her bare chest pressing right up against your back and her chin on your shoulder. With Jihyo, you’d absentmindedly trace shapes, words and designs into her back when you held her in her bed. Once, when you thought she was sleeping, she repeated back a word you had just written on her bare skin. “Pretty?” she mumbled sleepily. “You think I’m pretty?” Too scared to reply out loud, you wrote ‘yes’ on her naked shoulder to answer her. 
Though you were otherwise very close with them, you were too embarrassed to tell them about your sex drought. You tried to behave as normally (sanely, really) as you could. But they’d caught you checking them out a couple times over the last few weeks. Jihyo caught you capital ‘L’ Looking at her backside when she bent down to tie her shoes one afternoon, and Nayeon saw the way your eyes wandered up under her shirt when she reached for a mug on the top shelf in the kitchen. When the two realized you had done it to both of them, they started going out of their way to tease you. 
“How do I look?” Jihyo asked you as she got ready for work one morning. “What do you think…” she trailed off, adjusting her button down shirt. “Two buttons undone? Or maybe three?” she seemed to enjoy watching you blush as she made eye contact with you through the full length mirror in her room. 
And if it wasn’t Jihyo making you sweat, it was Nayeon. “Do you like this new skirt I just bought?” she had asked you the other day. To say it was short was a vast understatement. It barely covered her. You could hardly breathe as she approached you in it. 
“Feel it,” she said, bringing your hand up to the soft black fabric. “Should I keep it?” She turned while your hand was still on the skirt and suddenly you were touching her ass instead of her hip. 
“Well?” she’d asked, smirking. 
There was constant sexual tension now between the three of you when you were all together. No one acted on it, though. You were too shy, and if you didn’t say anything, they weren’t going to either. But god, you really were starting to suffer, all too aware of the fact that what you wanted most, despite all of your friends’ teasing, tucked away between both Nayeon and Jihyo’s thighs.  
Admitting defeat in being able to fall back asleep now that it was nearly seven in the morning, you thought for a moment. It was a weekend, so Jihyo was most likely going to be sleeping in this morning. And if she was sleeping in, that meant maybe now was your chance to relieve yourself. 
You listened hard for a few moments, checking to see if either of them were up yet. You didn’t hear anything, but you got up and opened your bedroom door, poking your head out to listen for a little longer.
Satisfied with the early morning silence that met you, you turned back and climbed into bed, not noticing that your door quietly swung back open after you thought you had pushed it closed. 
With your hand between your legs, you tried to think of anything and anyone else, but as you started touching yourself, your mind quickly wandered to Nayeon and Jihyo. 
Nayeon with her big hands and long fingers. You wanted to feel her fingers inside you, or at least in your mouth. 
You let out a soft whine, getting worked up now as your fingers circled your aching clit. 
And Jihyo, you could barely look at Jihyo when she wore taut, tight fitting shirts to work out. Having her know you thought she was pretty was one thing, but to have her catch you openly staring at her chest…
“Ah~!” you were closer to your climax than you had thought. You accidentally let out a whimper and cursed, pausing for a moment in case you’d been caught. You only stopped to listen for a second or two though, more interested in getting off than whether or not someone had heard you.
But Jihyo, whose room was next to yours, woke up to the sound of what sounded like a muffled groan. She was confused at first, unable to tell where the sound was coming from or what it was. 
She opened her door quietly and listened. The sound had definitely come from your room. At first she thought maybe you were crying, but then she realized the sounds she was hearing weren’t crying whimpers, they were sounds of pleasure. Jihyo was mesmerized as she listened to you for a few moments, then she quietly padded down to Nayeon’s room. 
A few minutes later, Jihyo emerged from the bedroom with Nayeon in tow. 
“Are you sure you heard what you thought you heard?” Nayeon whispered as they approached your room. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, still a little tired from being woken up early. 
“Just listen,” Jihyo whispered back as they approached your room. 
But not only did they listen, they watched. 
They really hadn’t meant to, but your open door gave them a very, very good view. Nayeon was fully awake now as she took in the sight in front of her: a very naked you with your hand working diligently between your legs, eyes shut and brow knit in concentration. 
And that’s when, unbeknownst to you, you really slipped up: you sighed, murmuring their names. Nayeon instantly started to get hard when she heard “Nayeon-ah,” fall from your lips. 
Meanwhile, Jihyo blushed, her eyes widening with curiosity. She was about to reach for your door to give you some privacy, but a sudden “please, Hyo…” from you made her stop dead in her tracks. Her own cock twitched with arousal in her boxers. 
Nayeon couldn’t stand to just watch anymore. She cleared her throat lightly, making you freeze and open your eyes. 
You looked up. To your absolute horror, Nayeon and Jihyo were standing in your doorway. Nayeon smirked; Jihyo looked surprised, but amused. 
“Well good morning, Y/N,” Nayeon said, breaking the silence. 
You started reaching for a blanket to cover yourself with, but Nayeon quickly stepped inside with Jihyo following. This had to be a dream. 
“What’s the blanket for? You want to stop?” the two of them were at the foot of your bed now, Nayeon with a fake pout on her lips. “Didn't it feel good?” 
“Those were our names, right?” Jihyo added, feigning innocence. “Is there something you need from us?”
You were frozen. This was not a dream. As you looked back and forth between them, you were grateful they weren’t scarred for life at what they’d walked into, but was this real? More wetness leaked out of you– your body certainly hoped it would be.  
“I-” you stammered. “I didn’t mean—”
“I think you did,” Nayeon cut you off, crawling onto your bed. “Go on,” she said, looking pointedly between your legs and then back up at you. “Don’t let us stop you.” 
Your hand almost followed her direction, but you hesitated, feeling vulnerable suddenly. 
“Aww, are you shy now?” Nayeon asked, with no trace of sympathy in her voice. She took off her shirt, allowing you a good look at not only her chest, but the bulge growing beneath her boxers. “That’s alright, Y/N. I’ll show you if you show me.”
Your eyes widened as she proceeded to pull out her cock. At full mast, her dick was of significant length and veiny like her hands. You were transfixed as you watched Nayeon start to slowly fist her hand over her aching member. 
“Ah, ah,” Jihyo’s voice snapped you back to attention. “Show us how wet you are.” 
Your face burned at the command, but you nodded. You sat up a bit as you spread your legs the way you had before, hand dipping back down to stroke your soaked clit. 
Jihyo’s mouth fell open slightly as she watched you. Unable to refrain from touching herself anymore, Jihyo’s shirt and boxers soon joined Nayeon’s on the floor and she quietly began to stroke her own cock. 
“Look at you,” Nayeon cooed as she watched you squirm. Your soaked pussy clenched around nothing. Touching yourself felt good, but you were unwilling to let yourself get off. If this was your chance to feel Nayeon and Jihyo inside you, you were going to take it. Nayeon seemed to read your mind. “I think you deserve more than just your hand to help you, don’t you?” 
“Yeah,” you breathed. “Need more.”
Nayeon nodded, inching closer. “I think so, too. Turn over for me?”
You found yourself obeying her quickly. As soon as you were on all fours, Nayeon came up behind you. You let out a gasp when you felt her fingers roam lightly over your clit. She teased you for a bit, planting light kisses down your shoulder and back before taking some of your wetness for her cock. 
You felt the bed shift and turned to look behind you. Jihyo had positioned herself right behind Nayeon. Her eyes went back and forth from your pussy to Nayeon’s dick, waiting her turn as patiently as she could. You caught her eye and Jihyo smiled slyly back at you. The way she was looking at you made you feel small, but you liked the attention.
There was no going back now. You turned your attention back to Nayeon. 
“Nayeon,” you murmured, shamelessly arching your back so she could see how wet and ready your pussy was for her. 
“Ready for me?” Nayeon moved closer to you, preparing your cunt as she rubbed the head of her cock along the folds of your entrance. You were about to beg, but then finally she was entering you, making both of you moan. 
“God, you’re tight,” Nayeon hissed as she took her time bottoming out in you. 
Her cock filled you completely; you could practically feel her in your stomach. This was exactly what you’d been craving for months. Every thought about being self-conscious, what you had to do that week, errands, breakfast plans– every relevant thought had simply left your head. You could only focus on Nayeon’s long cock and the way she felt inside you.
You clenched around Nayeon’s length, making her gasp. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” she said through gritted teeth. She grabbed hold of your hips, bringing your ass up a bit higher. Your front end sank down into the bed. 
“There you go, baby,” Nayeon said. The pet name made your heart race, you leaned back a bit, pressing yourself against her while she went deeper. “What a view.” The older girl started to slowly pick up her pace. “You really should masturbate with your door open more often.” 
You could only moan desperately in response, too distracted by Nayeon thrusting in and out of you to form a coherent reply. 
Noticing the reaction Nayeon’s words got from you, Jihyo spoke up too. 
“I bet she wanted us to see her,” she said. “Is that why you left your door open? So we could watch?”
You nearly wailed in response, hands desperately gripping your sheets while Nayeon increased to a relentless pace, pounding into you hard. 
“Doesn’t that feel good?” Jihyo’s voice continued to torment you. “You look so pretty taking all of that cock, kitten. You’ll have no problem taking me next, will you?” 
Hearing Jihyo call you ‘kitten’ was enough to make your eyes roll back for a second or two. You could hardly think, barely managing a weak nod for Jihyo. 
“Good girl.” Jihyo’s praise felt just as satisfying as Nayeon having her way with you. 
The older girl was getting close to her release. She hadn't expected you to feel this good. She pushed you all the way down into the bed save for your hips, which she held with a deathly strong grip as she mounted you from behind on your bed. Her strokes were deep, fast and consistent. 
“Y/N— close,” was all Nayeon could manage to say. The harder she fucked you and the longer she held you down, the deeper you slid into submission. You’d do anything, you realized, to make her cum. And not only did you want to make her cum, you wanted it for yourself.
“N-Nayeon,” your voice was hoarse, muffled against the sheets. “Don’t pull out.”
“Oh fuck,” Nayeon grunted. “You want it that bad, baby? Want me to fill you?”
“Please, please,” you begged, now on the verge of tears from all of the stimulation. “Use me.”
Nayeon cursed when she heard that. It sent her over the edge; her hips slammed into you and then slowly stilled as she came, emptying herself into you greedily. 
“Good girl, take it all,” she said, pulling you back and forth over her cock a few times to push her seed in deeper. When she felt she had fucked her load into you thoroughly, she pulled out. Nayeon grabbed your ass, taking time to feel you up before sitting back. As you pushed yourself back up from your mattress, some of her load trickled down your thighs. 
“My turn,” Jihyo said, growing impatient. Nayeon moved over, eyeing Jihyo’s cock curiously as she made room for the younger girl. 
With Jihyo’s help, you flipped over onto your back. She made her way between your legs, admiring your body for a few moments as you caught your breath. “Jesus,” she said, using two fingers to play with your swollen clit. “You really should have left your door open ages ago.” 
With your permission, she plunged two fingers into your core, making you whine. She watched as you desperately tried to grind yourself down onto her fingers. 
“Poor thing,” Jihyo teased, “Does your cunt need more cum?” She finally took off her shirt, revealing the rest of her body to you. You couldn’t help but stare up at her. 
She huffed softly in amusement. “Like what you see?” Jihyo’s voice was soft but authoritative.
“Yes,” you breathed. Your gaze dropped down to her waist, and then lower. Her throbbing member stood up against her stomach, and you watched as she pumped her length a few times. Her cock wasn’t as long as Nayeon’s but god, it was thick. Her own hand didn’t fully wrap around her dick, and you were suddenly grateful you’d taken Nayeon first.
While Jihyo repositioned herself, brushing the tip of her cock against your clit, you saw Nayeon out of the corner of your eye. She was getting hard again and her hand made its way back to her shaft.
The next thing you knew, Jihyo was letting out a low groan, almost a growl as she slid into you. You nearly cried out from the feeling, the sound getting caught in your throat and replaced with a gasp. 
She reached down to play with your clit as she carefully stretched you over her thick cock. You both took your time, with Jihyo and Nayeon both praising you sweetly every time you got another inch of her inside of you. 
“Oh my god,” Jihyo could barely contain herself when she was finally all the way in. Your cunt was warm, wet and irresistibly tight around her throbbing cock. 
She wanted to give you more time to adjust, but Jihyo’s need overcame her finally. “Can I move?” she asked, and you nodded, reaching to hold onto her forearms. 
She started excruciatingly slowly at first, both of you sighing and moaning as her hips began to find a rhythm. Your body rocked in sync with hers, and after a minute, you ground your hips against hers, letting her know she could pick up her pace if she wanted. 
With a devious smile on her lips, Jihyo really began to take off then. The sounds of wet skin on skin filled the room as she thrust into you, your headboard gently knocking against the wall. 
“Look at you taking my cock so well,” Jihyo praised, touching your cheek tenderly. 
“Doesn’t her pussy feel good?” Nayeon asked Jihyo, who nodded. “She’s dripping onto her sheets.” 
Jihyo leaned over you as she continued to fuck you, pinning you down beneath her. Her short hair tickled your forehead when she looked down at you, that’s how close she was, but what really distracted you was her chest bouncing right in front of your face. 
Your mouth watered. You tilted your head slightly to lick one of her small, pink buds. 
“Ah–” Jihyo’s eyes were locked on yours, a quick nod letting you know you could continue. Her pace stuttered for a moment shortly after as she watched you take one of her nipples in your mouth. 
She threw her head back when you began to swirl your tongue over it, gently licking and biting. 
For a moment you thought the roles had switched, but then Jihyo resumed her pace. A particularly hard thrust caused your mouth to pop open and release her, making Nayeon laugh and Jihyo smirk.
“Can’t focus when you’re getting fucked so deep, can you, kitten?” Nayeon’s voice made heat rise to your face. The way she spoke to you made you leak more, your juices coating Jihyo’s cock. 
“Look at me, baby,” Jihyo’s command made you tear your eyes away from Nayeon quickly. “Where do you want me to cum?” she asked. 
“In me,” you answered immediately. You went to put your hands on Jihyo’s waist to bring her closer, but she stopped you, pinning your wrists down to the bed momentarily.
“Hang on,” Jihyo’s voice was low in your ear, “Can you do something for me first, angel?” 
“Yes,” you breathed, wanting nothing more than to please her. She smiled, leaning in to lick your neck. You shivered with pleasure. 
“I’ll fill you up just like Nayeon did,” Jihyo said, starting to thrust into you again, “But only if you cum for me first. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl and cum on my cock?” 
You nodded wordlessly, clenching involuntarily around her dick. It made Jihyo’s breath hitch.
“Nayeon?” Jihyo asked, and suddenly Nayeon was beside her. The older girl’s unattended, hard cock gently knocked against her inner thigh. 
You were so distracted by it that you didn’t even notice Nayeon’s hand moving down between your legs at first. Jihyo’s strokes became deeper and slower so you could focus on Nayeon’s fingers as she rubbed and circled your clit, paying extra attention to movements that seemed to help get you close. 
“Shit,” you cursed, closing your eyes. “Y-you’re really gonna….” You trailed off. Your breathing became a little shallower as you realized you were close to climaxing. Your body began to tremble a little, your own release about to overtake you. 
“Gonna make me– yes, there,” you started to babble as Jihyo’s strokes and Nayeon’s fingers touched you in just the right spots. “R-right there, yes, oh p-please don’t stop, please please d-don’t st–” you cried out as your orgasm washed over you, hips bucking as you came on Jihyo’s cock like she asked. Your cunt pulsed from the immense pleasure, slick cum leaking out of you and down her cock. 
“God,” Jihyo said, giving you a few seconds to recover. Nayeon took her hand away, making sure you watched as she licked her fingers clean. You wished she would put her fingers in your mouth, but you didn’t have time to ask because a moment later, all you could focus on was Jihyo. 
Your cum had made it even easier for her to slide in and out of you, and now she was picking up speed again. Seeking her own pleasure, all you could do was throw your arms around Jihyo’s shoulders, clawing at her back lightly while she fucked you at a surprisingly fast pace. 
Your mewls gradually turned to whines and cries the longer and harder she fucked you, real tears running down your cheeks as she continued to use you. Just when you thought you couldn’t possibly take any more, Jihyo let out a sharp cry and then came, burying her cock deep and spilling her load into you. After you both caught your breath, she thrust slowly a couple more times for good measure, mixing her load with Nayeon’s. She was coated with cum and slick when she pulled out.
You desperately wanted to offer to suck her clean, but you could barely move, your body too ruined from the rounds of sex. 
Nayeon, hard again, looked at Jihyo’s wet cock as hungrily as you did for a few moments. No one won the pleasure of cleaning up Jihyo though, because then that reality of what you’d all just done finally hit you. 
“We should, you know, probably talk about all of this,” Jihyo said once she’d recovered. She tucked her hair behind her ears and sat back patiently, as if waiting for someone else to start the conversation. 
“Yeah…” was all you said, your eyes locked on Nayeon’s stiff cock.
Jihyo looked at you and then at Nayeon, who licked her lips as she finally looked up from staring at Jihyo’s dick. “Hm? What?” she asked.
Jihyo rolled her eyes. “We all fuck one time and now you can’t think of anything else?” she said.
“Oh come on, Hyo,” Nayeon said. “You’re literally getting hard again right now.” 
The younger girl blushed. “I am not!” She pursed her lips as she looked down; she lied, she was already at half mast again. “I- fine. Okay maybe, if everyone’s down… one more round and then we talk about this?”
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