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#somebody send me smut
chososhoeso2 · 29 days
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Rewatching Fire Force and god everybody (only the adults) is so hot (fuckable). What I wouldn't do to obi, hinawa, benimaru, joker, karim, konro??? nobody is safe. I want them all. Carnally.
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l3viat8an · 12 days
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Thinkin’ about Mammon ‘n his jacob’s ladder (dick piercing) again <3
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teddybeartoji · 2 months
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Is bf gojo into roleplaying (doesn't have to sexual) ?? If yes, what could be his favorites?
OHHHHHHHHHHH GOOD QUESTIONNN i think bf!gojo would be into smth very basic - a little nurse outfit would make him pop one immediately (what a surprise!); he's laying on the bed whining about how everything hurts and he needs you to make him feel better. he'll ask you to kiss him better (more like he's gonna literally point to his dick and ask you to kiss him better).
but i think he'd like playing the doctor himself even more!!!!! he's making you sit down on a chair and then he'll examine you. oral and physical. he's gonna stick two fingers down your throat to you know... to make sure that everything feels right; if you have tits he's gonna wanna grope them, kneading them in his big hands in order to check for any lumps. if you have a prostate... well, bend over bc he's checking that too. he's very thorough.
another roleplay i think he'd be into is some sort of a power play dynamic. smth like boss/employee - you're the boss and he's the errand boy. i genuinely think he loooooves to be bossed around by his beloved. he wants to dress up with you, put on your best little fake office outfits and he wants you to demand him to make you a coffee? he's a real freak i know i know. idk if any of us can keep up with him...
+ mwah mwah mwah nonnie thank u for this question!!! satoru is a freak in the streets and a freak in the sheets!! these are like really basic ones but i do think he'd be super into them ngl.....
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Somewhere along the way I ended up shipping Dionysus and Chiron (No this is not Percy Jackson, we do not stan Rick, he needs to take accountability) so here's that Dio: I WANT TO GIVE HIM THINGS
Dio: LIKE DICK AND SELF ESTEEM
Chiron: He knows I can hear him, right?
Anyways yeah if he's the only therapist on Mount Olympus, he's gotta be telepathic, and I love that for him XD
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eloves-writes · 5 months
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careful who you’re talking to
[coriolanus snow x reader]
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desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni
it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.
especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.
you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.
-
“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.
coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.
“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”
snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”
“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”
festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”
coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.
the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.
he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.
festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”
oh you’ll hear it alright.
“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”
-
on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.
“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.
he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.
“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.
“what?”
“you heard me.”
either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.
“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.
“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”
you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.
“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”
“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.
“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.
“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.
coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”
a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”
he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”
“am i yours?”
he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”
“i’m yours.”
“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.
you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.
“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.
he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.
“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.
he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.
corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.
you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”
you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.
coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.
your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.
snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.
you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.
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husbandhoshi · 2 months
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title: ghosted pairing: seungcheol x f!reader wc: 6.1k, mature/18+ only! tags: based on this drabble. porn with a considerable amount of plot, fwb to lovers, rich guy!cheol, yn is able to be picked up. horrible terrible excessive amounts of fluff. smut tags below the cut. everyone say thank you to @wuahae for reading this over :)
smut tags: softdom!cheol, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), spanking/biting, yn has hair that can get pulled, mild ass play, boob stuff, fingers in mouth.
--
you think you have seungcheol's number memorized.
well, you definitely should have by now, with how many times you considered deleting it. instead you ended up changing his contact name, first to seungcheol club, which is where you met him. second time--rebound guy. the third iteration, your roommate had made it DO NOT TEXT, and you had left it like that because she was probably right anyway.
for better or for worse, you are not very good at following instructions. you're two and a half weeks fresh off of a heart-to-heart with your friends where you agreed that no, the best way to get over your ex was to not get under somebody else, and yes, you should absolutely stop sleeping with a guy who brags about being a playboy.
so you deleted his number and your text history, and everyone swore up and down that this was a good thing.
and you're sure you were on the same page as them until about five minutes ago, when you were doing your laundry and you had come across one of his white button-up shirts.
(he let you keep it because he said you looked better in it than he did. that morning, before you left his place, he had buttoned it all the way up for you--don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do, he had said. plus, the amount of hickies he had left behind were in no way presentable to the general public.)
the effect this has on you is instantaneous and humiliating.
"fuck. fuck," you groan, now scrolling through your camera roll to look for literally any screenshot with his number in it.
there's one from back when he was rebound guy--he had sent you ten dollars in apple cash so you could buy a coffee when you said you were too tired to fuck. you ended up coming over that night anyway, and you both watched four hours of law and order until you fell asleep on his couch.
there are a handful from when DO NOT TEXT had sexted you in the middle of the workday, which you kept for posterity and nights alone with your vibrator.
and then, finally, a few weeks before that, when things were simple and he was just an unsaved number in your phone--hey, i know you ran out this morning, but i wanted to let you know i had a great time last night, if you know what i mean. even with the winky face emoji, it was a strangely wholesome text from a first time hookup.
you favorite the screenshot and curse the fact that you have never had good impulse control.
you up? i miss you.
the words fly so fast out of your fingers, you have no time to consider whether or not this is a good idea. you vividly recall the time he told you he had never seen the point of putting a label on a relationship, which was the whole reason your friends staged an intervention in the first place.
still, the white shirt on your bed taunts you. even thinking about it makes your head spin.
yeah. let me send you an uber.
that too--he had money, and he wasn't ashamed to spend it on you. between that and the dick, you don't think you're willing to squander your luck.
besides, seungcheol is still rebound guy. you're still getting over your ex, and he's just a quick fix in the meantime. you tell yourself this, and you keep telling yourself this until you're out the door, without a second chance to tell yourself otherwise.
--
"can't go long without getting your back blown out, huh?"
this is the first thing seungcheol says to you, oblivious to the fact that you were planning on forever ghosting him less than an hour ago.
"as if you didn't answer my text almost immediately," you laugh, letting him help you take your coat off.
"never said i wasn't happy to provide," he replies. his gaze is hot, sticky, like he's forgotten what you've looked like already. "i think it's been almost a month. i thought you got tired of me or something, you know."
"of course not. i...i got busy."
it's a half lie. the other half? you wouldn't dare admit it, but you missed his apartment a little. partly because it's much nicer than your own, but the bachelor pad decor was starting to grow on you. (and maybe the bachelor, with it.)
"work was good today?" you ask, letting him draw you in by the waist. his hands are so warm as he draws them up and down your sides, underneath the cotton of the thin shirt you have on.
"oh, please," seungcheol says, his grin now hovering right over your lips. "don't play innocent. you didn't come here so i could talk about my job."
he's right, so you let him kiss you. it's hot and fast and it tastes like his twenty dollar mouthwash, which you take small pride in because it means he would have been sleeping if his hand wasn't on your ass right now.
seungcheol has never been slow nor patient. your shirt has come off, and he now thumbs at the waistband of your jeans, grasping at the button to undo them.
"i don't think i even know what you look like with pants on," he says, lips dragging against the shell of your ear. "you always dress up when you come here, and it all ends up on the floor. pity."
you feel all the heat in your body surge towards your core. somehow your jeans are already on the floor and seungcheol's palm is fanned over the thin lace of your panties.
"thought about me the whole way here, huh?" two fingers are meanly sat over the seam of your cunt, pressing the damp fabric to your skin. "let yourself get all wet for me on the car ride?"
"maybe," you manage, not wanting to betray the embarrassment in your voice. you don't need his hand there to know how wet you are, and yet you know he's doing it to tease you anyway. he finds the bump of your clit over the fabric, now clingy and warm over your skin, and runs his thumb over it. "what else was i supposed to think about?"
"no need to be shy. can't lie with such a needy pussy." he chuckles as your thighs squeeze helplessly around him. "it's cute."
before you can protest, he pushes your panties to the side, now undoubtably soaked through, and his fingers find your clit again. it just takes two, three, rough strokes to draw the pleasure out of you like a fire in your belly.
"cheol," you whine. somehow things always end up like this--you, almost fully naked, and him, still with all his clothes on. he likes reminding you of it too, now enjoying the way you press against him, searching for skin. instead, you feel his cock under his sweatpants, right up against your thigh, and it only turns you on further.
your hands find his waist, but between the new welt he's sucked into your neck and the paralyzing feeling of his thumb on your clit again and again, you falter. your fingertips hover on the downy hair peeking over the band of his sweats, and you've never ached more to have him inside you.
that's all seungcheol needs to yank you back in line. "bed. now," he says, and you listen.
his apartment is big, and the walk feels dizzying as he follows behind you. what's even worse is that you can feel his eyes rake over you--he loves it. the humiliating stumble of your two left feet, the glistening slick at the apex of your thighs, how your panties cling to your ass, now ruined.
even now, as you clamber onto the bed like you're learning to use your limbs for the first time, he loves how easy you are for him. but you can't help it--no one fucks you as good as he does, and that was the reason he was rebound guy in the first place.
"face me," is his next command. at the foot of the bed, first, he pulls off his shirt, and your eyes wander first to his chest, then to the trail he's got down his stomach, teasing you as he pushes down his sweats.
one of his hands, strong and veiny, disappears under his waistband to play with his cock. you watch the slow flick of his wrist and see the shape of his length underneath the fabric, and you almost start salivating.
you're sure he's punishing you by now.
"you're staring, pretty girl. use your words." a turn of his wrist, and he groans. he might just make himself cum like this, and the notion that it wouldn't be somewhere inside you absolutely shatters the last bit of pride you had left.
"need you in my mouth, cheol," you whine, now sitting up straight against the headboard, as if looking any more pitiful would persuade him to join you.
and he does, just not in the way you want him to. instead, you watch his sweats fall to the ground before he kneels on the edge of the bed, on the end furthest from you.
"what, you think i'm gonna give it to you easy? after you made me wait for you?" you are not thinking straight enough to decipher what this means. who knew ghosting a fuckboy would have actual consequences, but you watch his grip tighten around the fat base of his cock and decide this is not the time to play detective.
so you swallow your pride and all your questions and you crawl. you crawl all the way down the seemingly endless length of his king sized bed, feeling seungcheol's gaze swallow you whole, and you like it.
when you stop at the foot of the bed, you take pause to look at seungcheol, really look at him. his eyes are dark, almost unrecognizably so--maybe it's the way you so readily make yourself perfect for him, arching your back just how he likes and letting your swollen, wet mouth fall open like you've never wanted anything more than him.
"so pretty like this," he coos. he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, feeling it quiver under his skin. you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth; it's as humiliating as it is desperate but you can't help yourself. it feels so good to be touched, and seungcheol's clings to you like nothing else.
he pushes his fingers into your mouth, almost to the back so you choke. you're at the point where you'll take anything, so you suck. you let your tongue run all over the digits, long and calloused enough that you can only dream of having them inside the other half of you. he pushes onto your tongue, wanting you to taste him, and you whimper, the feeling harsh but not unwelcome.
"dumb mouth just needs something in it, huh? my girl will just suck anything?"
you can't talk, so you whine around his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. he's been playing with his cock with his free hand, forcing you to watch him trace every vein with his own skin instead of yours. you hollow out your cheeks and suck him nice and tight, trying to fool yourself otherwise.
then he laughs, low and quiet--as fun as it is to slut you out, he's never been patient. "open wide, darling." he slides his fingers out from your mouth before pulling your hair out of the way. thank you, you want to say, but it's quickly washed away by the shock of his cock between your lips, rough but never too much so.
god, you didn't even think you liked sucking dick that much, but sleeping with seungcheol for this long must have altered your brain chemistry for the worse. his familiar, heavy warmth sits on your tongue, and you can't help but moan around him. you love the stretch of your jaw, the way his eyes always wrench shut no matter how in control he is.
"fuck," he groans, carding a hand through his hair. "slutty little mouth's made for me."
you hum around him, taking him all the way to where your nose skims the dewy curls on his abdomen and all you know is the scent of his heat. you're drooling so much, thanks to all the fingers in your mouth not too long ago, but you don't care. you run your tongue on the veiny underside of his cock, back and forth, savoring the hurt in your cheeks and all the spit on your chin.
seungcheol makes a low-pitched, strangled noise, the first time you've seen him crack tonight, and it sends another gushy wave of heat to your cunt.
you toy with his slit, let the salt of his precum fill your mouth, and suck hard around his cockhead. your scalp stings wonderfully with how he pulls at your hair, and you lean into the feeling. a deep breath through your nose, and you sink down again. the way he hits the back of your throat makes you yelp pitifully, but you persist like a dog to a bone. again, again, and you're gagging on your own spit as your throat spasms around him and you go cross-eyed.
he's all about control, but he lets you have this--perhaps he likes seeing you give yourself to him without him asking. he doesn't have to lift a finger, and you'll still choke around him, bruise your own throat. surely that had to mean something, but you'll chalk it up to some astrological sexual compatibility you're unaware of at the moment.
"enough," seungcheol finally says, voice gravelly, and he pulls you off him by the hair. "fuck, you probably would've cummed from that alone, huh?"
meanly, he reaches over your back to grab at the strings of your underwear so it digs into your cunt. you cry out, feeling the warmth of arousal leak all over your twitching hole, even between your ass. he's right--any more, and you really might have cummed all over yourself.
" 'm so wet, cheol," you plead, toes curling as he pulls the elastic of your panties further back. "please, please, please."
he releases the band, and it snaps hard against your skin. it feels like electricity as it connects with you, and you cry out again, the noise high-pitched and whoreish.
"gonna need you to face the other way if you want me to fuck you, darling," he says. "my baby likes it best from behind, right?"
you have nothing left in you but insatiable desire. you turn around to face the headboard, still on your hands and knees. seungcheol runs a careful hand down the curve of your spine before landing a hard slap on your ass. your skin sings, and all the blood in your body feels like it's been turned to fire.
"cheol," you warble, pressing your face into the sheets. your pussy actually hurts from how neglected it is, and when the second slap comes down, your clit aches like a bruise. "need you so bad...can't believe i went so long without you."
the words just fall out of you but you think they're true regardless. you were really fooling yourself thinking you could go the rest of your life without this. somewhere deep inside you, in the working part of your brain, you wonder if he's come to the same conclusion. that underneath the show, all the greed and the meanness, he missed you too.
"you must really need to get fucked," seungcheol chuckles. "you've never been this nice to me."
"not true," you protest, muffled by the sheets, and he laughs again. then he peels your underwear down your thighs before spreading your ass underneath his palms, and the cool air makes you twitch under him.
"you smell so fucking good. fuck." he groans, low and desirous, and it's the last thing you register before you feel the swell of his nose, his lips, as he buries his face in your cunt.
it's all too much at once--it rips a squeal out from your chest, one of those slutty, loud ones he loves, and it spurs him on further. you feel the wet pressure of his tongue, first between your folds, then up to the tight ring of your asshole, still messy with your arousal.
"o-oh my god," you cry. the pressure in your belly is now wound tight; you're so, so close and he's barely even started. he seems to know this, and deprives you of his mouth in lieu of his two fingers. the change in sensation is instant and toe-curling. something, anything, is finally inside you, and it's better than anything you have ever known. he drags the pads of his fingers brutally over your g-spot, loving the way you cry and tremble beneath him as your orgasm builds.
"have you had enough, pretty girl?" seungcheol asks, voice cruel, teasing. it's a rhetorical question--before you know it, his fingers are gone, and you instead feel the length of his cock between the curve of your ass. he's got a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, just so he can see you struggle to push yourself against him.
"n-no," you reply, voice catching in your throat. you feel the head of his cock against your slit, and your thighs tremble with anticipation. not good enough. it only takes him a few times, rocking against your cunt, for you to crumble. you ask for things you can't even remember, and it's then when he pushes into you, so meanly you really do forget what words mean.
seungcheol swears under his breath, and his grip on your ass feels tight enough to bruise. your cunt flutters around him, god, you forgot how fucking big he is, but he doesn't give you much time to get used to it. his pace is unforgiving, and his hips slam into your ass like he's trying to fuck the sound out of you.
"cheol," you hiccup, listening to your voice jolt with every thrust. " 'm so full...."
"yeah? you like how i fill you up?" he squeezes your ass hard, and you moan into the sheets. "better than anyone else?"
"o-only you," you reply, slack-jawed at the feeling of being split open so well and the delicious, unending drag of him against your walls. "just you."
this seems to satisfy him. he enters you, deeper still, until it feels like he's in your stomach.
"so fucking tight," he says, from somewhere deep in his chest. "you need me to stretch you out like this every once in a while, yeah? you take it so well, pretty girl."
all you can do is moan his name. it's what you've been doing, and at this point, it's the only word you know. he bottoms out again, and the pleasure is so white-hot it feels like it burns.
it only takes two, three, punches into your cunt for you to come undone. you're gushing, gushing around him, babbling something incoherent, and still he is unrelenting. you feel your mouth move in an attempt to tell him you're too sensitive, and he only shoves his cock deeper in you so he can feel you clench hard around it.
then he pushes your head into the sheets, deeper still so the neighbors won't write him up in the morning, and fucks you again. you foolishly think another orgasm will break you, but all it takes is for him to press his thumb into the dip of your asshole and tell you he's going to fuck you in both holes one day for you to fall apart again.
by the time he's done with you, your legs feel boneless and you don't even want to think about the situation between them. (you had asked him to cum in you, and he did. there was so much, he had to push some back into you with his fingers, and you cummed one more time.)
you feel seungcheol's dead weight slump onto the bed beside you. you're still face-down, but you turn as far as you can to look at him. it's unfair how he still looks good now--his bangs, dark and curly with sweat, crown his forehead, and you watch his long eyelashes flutter shut.
"fuck," he groans. "how does every time with you get better?"
somewhere inside you, in the parts that still work, you feel a small gleam of pride. it feels traitorous, in a way--the whole point of being friends with benefits was that it was supposed to be conditional, but you're running out of conditions. clearly, it didn't take much for you to come back and not regret it.
seungcheol laughs at your silence. "did i break you? no," he jokingly whines, and he rolls onto his side to return your gaze. he brings a hand up to brush the hair out of your eyes, as if that would somehow magically repair your body. but it does feel nice. "please speak."
"maybe broken. to be determined." seungcheol grins stupidly when you say this, and you watch how his eyes crinkle up at the sides.
usually, it's every man for himself at this point in the night. seungcheol will order takeout and draft some emails, and you hobble over to the bathroom so you can pee and use the shower. he leaves you alone for this part, which is the perfect opportunity to mix all his fancy shower gels together like you're a kid again.
but today seems different. you lie there for a beat in silence, watching each other blink. then seungcheol gets up, slowly then all at once, and walks over to your wrung-out body.
"i'm picking you up," he says, like a warning. "hopefully you're not afraid of heights."
you think he's joking until you feel the strong cords of his forearms--one around your middle and the other under your legs. you didn't even think you were able to be picked up at this point in your life, but somehow he's got you flush against his chest now, almost nose to nose with him.
"wait," you waver, suddenly feeling self conscious about literally everything. you're sticky and smelly and you're not curious to find out if your post-coital form will scare him away. "seungcheol."
"you really plan on walking yourself over to the bathroom? you couldn't make it to the bedroom earlier, and i hadn't even fucked you yet."
"hey!" you protest. he laughs, and you can feel his whole body shake. "wait, i can't laugh too much, or i'm gonna start leaking."
"you've got another thing coming if you think i'm afraid of a little body fluid."
seungcheol bumps the bathroom door open with his ass, which is somehow the funniest and most endearing thing to you. you flip on the light, and he sets you on the counter like it's just a normal friday night for the both of you.
he turns the shower on and turns back to look at you. "how hot do you want it?" then his eyes narrow playfully. "are you one of those freaks who likes getting their skin boiled off?"
"well, you can answer the first half of that question on your own."
"ok. freak."
while he messes with the shower knobs (he's got one of those showers with three separate showerheads), you take a moment to do some more snooping. the first time you were here, you did go through the various things he had on his counter. most of them are still there--the overpriced moisturizer you shamelessly use when you stay the night, a quarter-full bath and body works foaming soap, and a folded up hand towel with his initials on it.
there are some newer additions too. you don't miss how the little jar for your toothbrush is still there, or a small tube of lip gloss you had forgotten to take back a few months ago. he restocked the hand lotion that you said you liked, too.
you're starting to think that there is a small possibility that you are no longer friends with benefits. you're not dating either, but something somewhere in the middle. but how do you say something like that? how would you know, especially when seungcheol is a self-proclaimed forever bachelor who may never, ever date?
you have no time to think about this any further.
"sooo," seungcheol hums, wiping his hands with a bath towel. "i'll be in the bedroom. you want me to order chinese?" you watch him linger around, lamely, like a stray dog.
"wanna join me?"
he smiles, ear to ear.
"thought you'd never ask."
--
morning comes slowly.
you wake to birdsong and the quiet chatter of the city beneath you. the sun from the curtains is buttery and warm on your bare skin, and time seems to drag its feet. it feels perfect, which is a word you would have never used in relation to any of this, and yet nothing else seems more appropriate.
last night, after your shower (in which you learned that seungcheol always makes his hair into a shampoo mohawk, without fail), you talked for hours over the fattest spread of takeout you had ever seen.
the plan was to put on the office and dissociate like usual, but he finally answered your question about how his day at work was. (tumultuous and drama-filled--that was his first mistake. you love drama.) strangely, by the end of the night, you learned that you had more in common than you thought with a man whose watch collection was valued higher than your entire college education.
"you up?" seungcheol's morning voice comes out sounding like a croak from behind you. you're sure he's about to complain that his arm is asleep from your big head on it, but he doesn't. instead, he settles deeper into your warmth and pulls you closer by the waist.
"yeah," you reply, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.
you grab your phone from the nightstand, wondering if your roommate has discovered your betrayal and has blown up your phone. she has, so the two voice memos and twenty text messages in the group chat are no surprise to you.
what is a surprise is the text you get from your ex. can we talk? it reads. it's the first time you've heard from him in months--before that, he had broken up with you (over text) and then proceeded to block you on every platform possible.
your mind starts to spin. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to text him back. just for closure's sake, you tell yourself, as if you haven't cried at least seven separate times about this. but you will admit, seungcheol has been a great diversion. you don't remember the last time you had a cry, and any progress was good progress to you.
complicating things, said diversion has slotted a leg between yours, and his hand has found its way to your ribcage, distractingly close to your chest. such are the consequences of only wearing a shirt to bed.
"you're so warm," he murmurs, right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. his hand creeps up, now right over your heartbeat. it doesn't really take much for your body to respond--his fingertips find your nipple, and with a light squeeze, you're already arching back into him. "is this ok?"
"yeah," you breathe. you're distracted, but you figure the best way to un-distract yourself is with a new, better distraction.
now emboldened, he rolls the skin between his fingers, finding he loves the way you shudder underneath him. quickly, he moves out from behind you to hover over you instead, propping himself up by his forearms, and pushes your shirt up over the swell of your tits.
"you good?" seungcheol asks, lips flush to the skin over your heart. he presses another wet kiss to one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.
"yeah, why?" you have half a mind to hold his head down so he can't ask more questions and ruin the point of being a distraction in the first place.
"dunno." he switches to the other side, licking over a mark he's bitten into your skin. "you looked at your phone and you seemed worried. also, you're frowning, and it's not a sex frown."
damn. you guess you're easier to read than you thought. you don't even have the heart to ask what the fuck a sex frown looks like.
seungcheol's mouth returns to your nipple, and he sucks hard, making you gasp into your palm.
"my ex," you tell him. there's no point in keeping it a secret. the first time you slept together, you had made it clear what your intentions were, which is what made this arrangement work so well in the first place. "he wants to talk or something."
"that asshole?" then another suck, and you keen into him. "you're too good for him."
it's literally one of the three appropriate responses he could have chosen from, but it still feels like a compliment to you. almost too much so.
"yeah. i guess." your voice sounds more wobbly than you'd like, but you chalk it up to the fact that he's now pressing his lips down your middle, all the way down to your core. "hey, i'm ticklish."
"i know." he kisses your belly button, and you smile in spite of yourself. "you smell good, by the way."
"it's your forty dollar body wash," you remind him.
"damn right it is." you feel his breath fan over your thighs, and your stomach flips with anticipation. "legs over my shoulders. you know the drill."
"you don't have to do this, you know," you say, before immediately regretting it. you have a spectacular knack of self-sabotage, which you think seungcheol knows by this point. "you've been really nice to me."
"am i not allowed to like being nice to you?" seungcheol jokes. "would you prefer me to be mean?"
"no," you laugh. you don't know how to ask what he meant. what made yesterday and today so different? it feels like you're on the edge of something, coming close to what you could only describe as more than casual affection, more than desire. "go back to being nice. forget i said anything."
you put your legs over his shoulders, like he asked. one good orgasm wouldn't solve the ex problem or this new seungcheol problem you are starting to discover, but it sure would help you think more clearly.
his lips are soft on you. he has none of the urgency or greed of yesterday; instead, he takes his time with you. his mouth skims over your inner thighs, lightly, drawing out all the breath from your lungs. you make a small noise of impatience, and you feel the stretch of his grin against you.
before you have a second chance to complain, you feel the heat of his open mouth over your cunt, as to drink your taste up. then his tongue, warm, insistent, on your clit, circling it before he sucks.
"o-oh, fuck," you whine, voice muffled by the back of your hand. it feels too early to be loud, and you're already embarrassed by how sensitive you are.
"don't text him back," seungcheol says. he's replaced his mouth with two fingers, now leisurely teasing you at your entrance.
"don't worry--" you manage to say this before he crooks the pads of his fingers into you, right at your sweet spot, and the words are stolen from you. "--about him."
"i'm serious." he laps at your cunt, and with his fingers still buried in you, the feeling makes you dizzy. "did he ever make you feel like this?"
"n-no," you whine, now with your palm shoved right against your mouth. he's added a third finger now, and the stretch is so good, you're going cross-eyed. "never ate me out."
"what?" you hear him tsk between your thighs as his fingers still. "he's missing out."
it's then that seungcheol must have resolved to give you the best head of your life, because you think you black out after that point.
his lips return to your clit, and the pleasure is so startling, you can feel your thighs squeeze shut around his head. unfazed, he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, still fluttering, unused to the size.
"close, 'm so close," you mewl, hips now lifted to chase his tongue. he indulges you, gives you the flat of the muscle to grind against as he stuffs you full.
your other hand finds his hair, and it only takes a moment, a slight pull, for him to moan into your heat--the sound breaks something inside you, and you're gasping, crying out with your high. by now, there are marks from your teeth in your palm, but something about the sting only makes the feeling better.
seungcheol stays sealed to your cunt, removing his fingers only to replace them with his mouth, eager to taste you. he lingers until you're shaking and whimpering, spent from your orgasm and too sensitive to endure another.
he looks up at you, swollen lips and bedhead made worse, and a surge of affection overtakes you.
"kiss me," you tell him, and he does.
it's long, and it's slow, not even close to any of the ones you've had before. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs. you don't think he's ever done that before.
when he pulls back to look at you, it feels as though the air has changed. there are words pushing at your lips. this isn't casual anymore. it can't be, not with what just happened.
yeah, the sex is good, but the first thing you thought of this morning wasn't you or your saturday plans or how to endure the dismay of your entire friend group, it was about him. if didn't count for something, you don't know what did.
"seungcheol, i--" you pause. his eyes are so brown, it's distracting you, and you start to second guess yourself.
"is it about your ex?" he interrupts. "if he asked you to get back with him, would you?"
it's not his question, but his insistence that takes you by surprise.
"n-no." you watch his gaze flicker at your hesitance, and you don't like it. "no, i wouldn't."
"good, because--" he pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. you try to read his expression, but he can't even meet your eyes right now. "look, i know i haven't had the best track record with dating. i don't even think i know how to date."
"what are you saying?" you ask softly. there's a part of your heart that feels like it's peeling itself back, in a good way.
"i'm saying i want to try." and when you still look confused, he continues. "dating you. if you'd let me."
against all odds, past all the swirling, terrible emotions in your chest, there's a bright surge of relief, of joy. the last time you saw him look so vulnerable was when he reached into his oven to pull out a tray of cookies and burned his hand because he forgot a glove. maybe this whole thing would crash and burn, but you like him enough (honestly more than enough) to try with him.
so you smile, and you watch him frown and pout and look unbearably terrified, and you smile harder.
"ok," you say, playfully feigning indifference. "you can try."
instead of replying, he kisses you again, and it's even better than the first one.
when you finally head out that morning, there's a lightness in your chest.
in the doorway, seungcheol pecks the top of your head before showing you his phone. "which emoji do you want?" he asks, completely seriously. "i want the blue heart."
you pull out your phone to find his contact, which still shows his plain number, just like old times.
"i'm unsaved?!" his jaw drops open like he's animated, and you laugh.
"gotta go," you tease. "see you later."
it's only in the uber home (that he called for you, of course), where you finally put in his real, government name, for the first time. finally, it feels a little more right.
choi seungcheol, it reads. with the blue heart.
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leclerc-hs · 6 months
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marked - cl16
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Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: a request from anon ‘Charles marking you as his’ Warnings: smut, choking, language, 18+ Word Count: 546 Author’s Note: I apologize for it being short!!!! I think I want to attempt to write a short series maybe. Any ideas on what it should be about? ALSO HAPPY FERRARI LOCKOUT DAY. I am praying we can stay on podium today lmaooo French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
IF YOU HAD to ask anybody, they would tell you that Charles was a rather generous being. He was always willing to provide help to someone in need. When your friend’s house had a gas leak, he provided her a space to crash for the time being. Whenever somebody needed a ride, he was the person to call. If you forgot your wallet, don’t worry he already covered it anyways.
So, when your apartment was deemed unlivable due to remodeling, he promptly extended a warm welcoming haven for you to find solace in.
The dynamic between you and Charles was a peculiar one, not yet falling into the category of an official couple yet possessing an unmistakable intensity. It was as if a protective aura enveloped the two of you; anyone daring to cast even a fleeting thought in your direction was met with a foreboding presence. Regardless of the official label, you were his. He was yours.
Which is how you found yourself here. In this present moment. With Charles hand gripped around your neck as you straddled him on the couch.
“Fuck,” he grunted as you hastily worked yourself over his cock. The deep groan he elicited had your lip quivering. His hands grasped onto your hips tightly, guiding you. “Gonna take it all, huh?”
“Gonna be a good cumslut for me, princesse?” He wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
“Shut up and make me cum already,” you couldn’t help but bite back. He possessed a remarkable talent for teasing, edging you for what has felt like hours. It was torment, pushing you to the threshold of your orgasm but then denying it before you could jump over the edge.
“Feisty, hm?” his hands slipped back up to your neck, squeezing hard. “Don’t be a brat.”
Tiny beads of sweat started to form on the edge of his eyebrow, the veins of his neck visible. You wished you could take a picture.
You felt your hips start to lose rhythm as your legs grew weaker. You are a whimpering wet mess. “Can’t even ride me properly,” a smirk formed on his lips.
“Please, Cha,” you begged, currently on the verge of having a break down from the frustration. “I need-“
“Need me to fuck you? Can’t get yourself off alone baby? So useless.” He was laughing. It made your pussy clench harder. You didn’t even have to respond before Charles was flipping you under him on the couch. Your hands immediately grasping onto the back of the couch for support as he fucked you from behind.
He leaned forward, his body arched over yours, his lips found a place on your neck. With a deliberate intention, he sucked hard. No doubt leaving a dark purple like bruise on the cusp of your neck and jaw. Claiming you.
The mixture of his fervent sucking with the drilling of his hips was more than enough to send you teetering over the edge this time. His, right behind you. You were screaming, tears escaping your eyes as you felt yourself squeezing all around his cock.
You were both out of breath. Collapsed on one another on the couch. Completely ruined, that’s how you felt. The giant reddish purple on your neck was sore, Charles finger tracing it with a smile.
“Everyone will know you’re mine now.”
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remuslovebot · 4 months
Note
Soo happy somebody is finally writing Felix fics cause I have been starveddd so thank you <3 I have a request for a smutty fic of reader riding Felix’s thigh ( if u are uncomfortable with these totally ignore me )
yes! i can totally do this, hope you enjoy xx
smut! minors dni 💋
a/n: send me the most smutty requests 😵‍💫
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you are moving back and forth, grinding on felix’s jeans. your naked pussy rubbing against the already worn out denim. your clit making the knot in your stomach tighter.
“that’s it, love,” felix cooed, watching you make yourself come undone.
he was sitting back in his chair, one hand needing at your left breast. his other hand was on your waist, rubbing circles on your hip with his thumb.
his erection was growing. watching you pleasure yourself above him turned him on immensely.
“fuck yourself on my thigh, that’s my girl,” he groaned, going in to kiss your neck.
you moaned in response, fucked out of your mind. “cum for me darling,” felix breathed into your neck and you did as you were told.
“felix,” you moaned, as you continued to grind and fuck his thigh. felix connected your lips with his, still needing at your breast.
“make a mess all over my pants,” he said softly in between kisses. you rode out your high holding onto Felix’s strong shoulders.
“you did so well for me baby,” he praised. “let’s get you cleaned up.”
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hopelesslygaysstuff · 2 months
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pairing: wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x fem!reader
summary: your girlfriend eats you out while your other girlfriend restrains you. all in the name of love and making you cum, of course
content warnings: smut, restraints, cunnilingus, overstimulation.
word count: 1.6k+
masterlist
original request
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡
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Stay Still
“Good girl, spread those legs for me.”
Wanda’s soft voice sounds from behind you, one hand stroking your stomach as the other plays with your nipples. You can practically feel her smile as she speaks, her lips brushing your neck and sending goosebumps down your spine. 
There’s a soft flush that spreads from your cheeks towards your chest, a warm feeling overtaking you at the soft touches. You can feel Wanda’s red hair brushing your shoulders as she paces feather-light kisses along your collarbone and neck. Her hands continue to stroke your skin, playing with your nipples gently as you feel yourself relax further against her.
A whine sounds out, and you’re surprised when you realize it fell from your lips. Attempting to twist around, you plead with your eyes as Wanda chuckles into your neck. Your hands flex, gripping the sheets tightly as you take in a few deep breaths. It would be embarrassing to lose your cool this early in the night. 
“Aww, is somebody needy?” Natasha’s hands grip your thighs, your head whipping back toward her at the firm touch. She begins to pull your legs apart, and you're helpless to stop her. Fuck the embarrassment, you’ve never seen a hotter sight, and you’re pretty sure you’ve started to drool. 
Dark green eyes take in your glistening pussy, your arousal smearing and running over your inner thighs. Natasha’s tongue wets her lips as she glances up towards Wanda, a smirk forming. You can smell her cinnamon perfume, the scent causing your head to go slightly fuzzy with need. 
It wasn’t your fault you were so worked up, truly. Your girlfriends had treated you to a wonderful dinner, with romantic candles and all. Then, the teasing touches and hungry eyes had started, and you had unraveled into a desperate mess from there. Dinner had started hours ago, and they were only touching you now. 
So yeah, no wonder you were so fucking horny. 
Every time you close your eyes, all you see is two pairs of green eyes, one a slightly lighter shade, staring at you. Their pupils are blown, eyes dark as their gazes linger over your form with a desperate look in them. You force your eyes open, thrusting yourself back into the present moment.
Your eyes wander over Natasha’s semi-nude form, taking in her skin appreciatively. She’d taken off her dress shirt, the soft fabric of her bra teasing your thigh as she bent over. Her arm’s flex as she pulls your legs as wide as they’ll go, and you try not to think about biting down on those muscles as you tear your eyes away from her. 
Out of the two, Wanda will definitely go easier on you. She is never able to withstand your puppy eyes for very long. 
“Mommy,” You begin, turning your head. You’ve made your voice breathy, a whine at the end of your words. A firm hand on your jaw stops you, Wanda’s fingers gripping tightly as she forces your eyes back towards Natasha. 
“No, honey,” You can hear the smirk in her voice, and resist the urge to pout. “Watch Nat, she’s going to make you feel really good.” 
Well, fuck. It seems that they’ve learned all your usual tricks for when you want to get your way. What a shame.
Natasha’s eyes are hot, watching you intently when you reluctantly turn your gaze toward her. You can’t help but lick your lips, watching her mirror the action as her hands begin to glide up your legs. Your clit throbs, anticipatory pleasure shooting through you as you feel yourself begin to drip. 
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Natasha’s voice is low, the rasp causing you to hold back a moan. You shake your head, lips sealed in an effort to not sound as desperate as you feel. 
One of Wanda’s hands snakes up your body, fingers grazing your jaw before they find your lips. You try to resist, only for a moment, before the sharp squeeze of her other hand on your nipple causes you to gasp. 
Quickly, Wanda’s fingers make their way inside your mouth. The weight of them rests on your tongue, your lips automatically wrapping around them and sucking, a low moan reverberating in the back of your throat. 
The sudden pleasure of Natasha’s strong tongue surprises you, your clit aching beneath her ministrations. Her dark green eyes peer up at you, focusing on the fingers slowly moving between your lips. 
A single strand of saliva connects Wanda’s fingers and your tongue, your lips parted as you pant. “Please…”
A chuckle sounds out from behind you, but you don’t care how pathetic you sound. “Please mommy, I want your fingers… fuck.” You’re interrupted by your own moan, electrifying pleasure shooting through you. 
Natasha chooses that exact moment to wrap her lips around your clit and suck. Her hands grip your thighs as you attempt to close them, and Wanda moves quickly to hold your wrists down as your back arches. 
You can’t escape the pleasure, no matter how hard you try. With Wanda’s hold on your upper body and Natasha's iron grip on your thighs, the only thing you can do is moan and roll your hips against her strong tongue.
Wanda grabs the soft cuffs she’d laid out earlier, gently strapping your wrists together behind your back. You would protest, but the only thing you're able to do is moan and whine, Natasha’s tongue unrelenting against you. 
Nimble fingers make their way back to your nipples, twisting and pinching as your breaths begin to turn into pants. Soft lips and sharp teeth sink into your neck, leaving dark bruises all over the delicate skin. Wanda’s lipstick smears all over your neck and collarbones, her tongue gliding along your sweaty skin as you rut your hips up as far as you can. 
“Look at our girl,” Natasha says, taking a break and using two fingers to rub quick circles over your clit. She spits, the sound jarring as she mixes her saliva and your arousal in order to rub you quicker. 
You wish she’d fuck you, curling those long fingers deep inside you. Your thoughts are interrupted by Natasha’s words. 
“Such a good little thing, so desperate for release. Isn’t that right? Want me to make you cum?” Natasha smiles at you as she speaks, her teeth sharp and eyes dark. 
You nod quickly, a moan tearing from you as Natasha thrusts two fingers deep inside you at the same moment that Wanda cards her fingers through your hair and pulls your head back roughly. Biting down on your pulse point, Wanda sucks harshly as you release a throaty moan. Natasha’s tongue returns to your clit, circling around it quickly and bringing your orgasm close to the surface. 
Words flow from your trembling lips, your back arching as the pleasure and pressure of your impending orgasm rise. You hear yourself pleading, begging almost as blood rushes toward your head and makes your ears ring loudly. 
Natasha’s fingers curl just right, and coupled with Wanda’s lips incessantly against your sensitive neck, your orgasm crashes over you before you have time to ask for permission. Your whole body shudders, thighs trembling around Natasha’s head as Wanda holds your thrashing hips still. 
The lips and tongue stimulating your clit don’t stop, the aftershocks of your orgasm still shooting through you as pleasure builds again. Wanda’s hands are back on your nipples, twisting and pinching while you attempt to slip your wrists out of the restraints she’d secured.
Again, your orgasm builds. The dull throb of pleasure quickly turns sharp, your chest heaving as your muscles spasm through your climax. Wanda’s fingers pinch harder, another smaller orgasm cascading through you as you gasp and whine.
They don’t stop, your vision darkening in the corners as you tense, preparing to cum again. This time, it feels like wildfire licking at your sides, your clit throbbing sharply as your cum smears on Natasha’s chin. Wanda’s hands leave your over-sensitive nipples, one hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing lightly while the other gently strokes Natasha’s hair. 
“Good girl, taking everything we give you so well. Can you cum one more time for mommy? Don’t shake your head, I know you can,” Her hand squeezes tighter and you feel a smile form on your face. “Cum, now.” 
Wanda’s command sends you hurtling over the edge again, her vanilla perfume overtaking your senses as you shudder in her tight hold. Your breaths shorten, bright dots appearing in your vision as you watch Wanda’s hand push Natasha’s head away from you.
The last thing you see before darkness overcomes your vision is green eyes peering up at you while Natasha slowly removes her tongue from your clit, your arousal clinging to her lips. 
“Sweetheart? Can you open those pretty eyes for us?” Wanda’s accent filters through your ears, a small smile appearing on your lips as you open your bleary eyes. 
You’re wrapped around Wanda, her arms holding you tightly as you lay your head on her chest. Her legs are intertwined with yours, her fingers slowly running through your hair. You turn to see Natasha, the mattress dipping behind you as she hands Wanda a bottle of water. 
In her other hand there’s a warm, damp washcloth. You grumble slightly, not wanting to leave the comfort and softness of Wanda, but eventually open your legs. Moving quickly, Natasha cleans you up as best she can, before throwing the washcloth towards the bathroom to be picked up later. 
“Are you alright, detka?” Natasha asks, settling in behind you and spooning you. One arm wraps around your waist while the other reaches up to stroke Wanda’s face softly. 
Nodding, you smile as you feel Natasha press a soft kiss into your hair. You vaguely hear Wanda command you to close your eyes and rest, before your mind relaxes completely in a vanilla-cinnamon haze.
---
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cupid-styles · 1 month
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casual
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partially based on casual by chappell roan and a lil bit of sad personal experience hehe
word count: 2k
content warnings: angst (no happy ending), references to smut, alcohol, harry being a douche, not ramadan friendly
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
From: H (12:47 a.m.)
Come over?
To: H (12:50 a.m.)
Give me 15
From: H (12:52 a.m.)
K
. . .
It’s not unusual for her nights to look like this. Or her early mornings, rather.
It wasn’t always this way. When she first met Harry, she wanted nothing to do with him romantically or intimately. She’d heard about his reputation — it wasn’t anything bad as long as you were looking for the same thing. He was an expert in bed and the friends that slept with him always provided rave reviews. Ever excited rumblings of, “oh my God, he’s so caring! He made me finish twice before he even took his cock out” and “he’s the perfect one night stand — seriously, I’ve never had anyone better.” 
But Y/N didn’t care for that.
She was a serial monogamous, always bumping around from one lengthy relationship to the next. In hindsight, she supposes she wasn’t any better than Harry, who earned his notoriety from a series — a long series — of casual hookups. 
If you needed a rebound, you went to Harry.
If you were going through a dry spell, you went to Harry.
If you were just horny and needed someone to go home with at the end of the night (and he hadn’t miraculously already found somebody else yet), you went to Harry.
And Y/N never planned to sleep with him. Ever, really. He was a fine friend, someone who mixed well with their mutual friends, but they hardly exchanged conversation except for the occasional nicetie. She had his phone number from when he planned Rachel’s surprise birthday party last year and they were friends on Venmo, passing back the same $20 every month for drinks or a shared Uber. 
That was the extent of their friendship. 
Until a few months back, when Y/N was down in the dumps. She’d been seeing this girl, Samantha, for a month or two, assuming that they were headed straight towards a happy, exclusive relationship — only to discover that Samantha was sleeping with and seeing just about 10 other people on the side. And it only came out because Samantha happened to contract chlamydia from one of her sexual partners, so she’d been forced to tell Y/N for the sake of her health.
Y/N's friends, Rachel, Maeve, and Len gave her time to wallow. They offered it to her on a silver platter, even, offering multiple girls nights out (and in), providing Y/N all the space she needed to cry and complain and talk about how hurt she felt. 
But then… a week of moping turned into two, which turned into three, which eventually turned into a month and a half. Her friends were exhausted from watching her spiral into sadness, so they did the only thing they knew: They sat her down and told her she needed to rebound. Fast.
“And who the hell am I supposed to rebound with?” Y/N asked through a sniffle. The only thing that made this whole thing worse was her friends staging an intervention for her because she was being annoyingly sad about her not-really-breakup-but-felt-like-a-breakup. “See, that’s the best part of being friends with a man whore,” Maeve replied eagerly. Len and Rachel sat on either side of her with bright eyes, nodding excitedly. “Harry! He already said he’s down and everything!” “Wait— you already asked him?” “We just put the idea in his head. Don’t worry, men are stupid,” Len quickly waved her off, “But he’s going out with everyone tonight. We’ll feed you a few shots to get you just buzzy enough, and then send you off to your night in heaven. You won’t even remember that girl’s name by the time Harry’s done with you!” Y/N cringed. “Hasn’t, like… everyone slept with him though?” Maeve shrugged. “Yeah, but he’s clean. He gets regular testing and uses condoms. Really, Y/N, it’s sort of a rite of passage at this point. But you should do it only if you’re comfortable— don’t let us force you into it.” Y/N swallowed tightly. She had to admit, the thought of a rebound sounded… appealing. She’d swiped through dating apps looking for one, but she was too scared that a one night stand would end in her bloody murder. And it helped that Harry already knew what he was doing, and— wait, was she crazy or was she actually starting to consider this? “Alright, fine,” she replied with a shaky exhale, “Let’s do this.”
That was four months ago.
And what was supposed to be an evening of stupid, lusty, casual sex turned into Y/N falling hard. It wasn’t her fault, though — no, not when he panted breathy promises into her mouth in the back of the Uber, mumblings of “just tonight, you know that, right?”. She’d replied just how she’d rehearsed it in her brain hours prior: “yes, yeah, I know— just tonight. Just for tonight.” 
"Just for tonight" shifted into Harry asking her to stay until the morning for breakfast and shower sex. Then, the following weekend, he texted her the ever classy you still awake? at just past midnight. She was indeed up, doing nothing but rotting on her couch and watching a documentary about the deep sea — and her hookup with Harry had been good, really good, and she wasn’t going to turn down another night of orgasms. 
As he wrapped a condom around his dick and pressed messy kisses down her neck, he whispered the same hurried sentiments from the weekend before: “didn’t see anyone I wanted tonight and we were good, yeah? It was good. So just… just one more night, okay? That’s fine, right?” 
Foolishly, with flittering eyelashes and her nails scraping down her back as he pushed inside, she nodded and echoed his words. Just one more night, that’s fine.
It didn’t take long for their friends to catch on when Harry would leave the bar an hour early without looking for someone to take home. Or, when they’d both be out and, like magnets slowly being pulled towards one another, they’d end up kissing on the street as they waited for an Uber to take them back to Harry’s place. 
The guys hounded Harry about it, asking if Y/N was finally the one to tie him down.
“Nah,” he’d reply with a shake of his head, “She’s a good girl. Too good for me.”
When Y/N’s friends demanded to know every last detail, she shrugged.
"I'm not really sure. It's... good, I think."
They only responded with small, tight smiles.
. . .
“Your mom texted me today. She invited us to come see them this weekend.”
Harry doesn’t reply — or rather, he makes an unassuming humming noise — as he gets out of Y/N’s bed, untangling his naked form from her sheets. He hunts down his briefs and pulls them on before stretching his arms out. 
“Did you eat dinner?” he asks, grabbing her tee-shirt off the floor and tossing it to her. She sits up, tightening the sheet around her chest. She shakes her head as she clutches the fabric of her shirt in her hands and watches him scroll on his phone.
“No. I thought we could get something.”
Harry hums again, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. Swallowing, Y/N puts her shirt back on. She’s not sure why, but she always feels oddly vulnerable once they’ve finished hooking up. When she’s still naked and he’s already moved onto the next thing, like having plans with the guys or taking a shower before he heads home. She'd even purchased his favorite body wash and shampoo when he started sticking around a bit longer, but he'd never even mentioned it or uttered a thank you.
“Yeah, maybe,” he finally replies. He locks his phone and places it back on the ledge of the TV stand in her bedroom. The simple act makes her heart jump — usually, he’ll stuff his phone in his pocket as he’s leaving. Maybe he was planning on staying the night. “So listen, I know I took you to dinner at my parents’ place that one time, but I don’t really feel comfortable with you talking to my mom.”
Y/N furrows her brows in confusion. “She texted me, H. I don’t, like, regularly reach out to her.”
“Right, but it just makes this whole thing feel way more serious than it is.” he says, sitting back down on the bed. He maintains a steady distance between them and it makes a small lump form in Y/N’s throat. 
“Okay,” she murmurs slowly, “That’s fine, I get it. But… we never really talked about what this is.”
Harry glances up with wide, confused eyes. “We’ve said it a million times, Y/N. This is casual. Completely and totally casual sex.”
An ugly, involuntary chortle leaves her chest. He raises his eyebrows.
“We’ve been fucking for four months. That’s not really casual.”
“Yes, it is. It’s friends with benefits.”
“Sure, maybe, but that’s if you explicitly outline that you’re just having sex. No feelings involved.”
“We did that.”
“When?”
“At the beginning,” Harry responds. He seems frustrated now, but it feels as though he’s recalling a memory that Y/N was never even around for. “Remember? I told you, it was all just for tonight type shit. Nothing real.”
“Then why the fuck did you take me to your parents’ house two months ago?” Y/N demands, anger rising in her chest, “And why am I your date to all of your stupid, boring work events? And why the hell are you at my house like four times a week, and why do you have a drawer full of my clothes at your place?”
“Y/N—”
“This isn’t fucking casual, Harry. This is dating. You’re dating me and you don't even realize it.”
“I would know if I was dating you, but I never asked you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want a girlfriend, you know that.”
She groans and shakes her head, ignoring the way her jaw already aches from clenching it so hard. She grabs a clear pair of underwear from her drawer and quickly slips them on. Harry’s silent the entire time.
Suddenly, she whips around and faces him. “Have you been fucking other people?” 
A wrinkle forms between his brows. He shakes his head.
“No. I wouldn’t do that, and it’s unsafe.”
“Right,” she murmurs, placing her hands on her hips, “So piece it together, Harry. Neither of us are sleeping with other people. We’re exclusively seeing one another.”
“You’re just making this out to be way more of a thing than it is—”
“Oh, fuck off!” she exclaims, “You have a key to my house! That’s pretty serious!”
“I didn’t ask you for that!” he fires back as he stands up from the bed. They’re in a stand-off now, staring at one another with angry eyes. She snorts and shakes her head in disbelief.
“My friends were so fucking right about you. You’re such an asshole. You know Maeve called me a loser for thinking you were a good guy?”
Harry rolls his eyes as he grabs his phone and sweater, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
They don’t exchange any other words as he leaves her room. She sits back down on the edge of the mattress, listening as he stuffs his feet in his sneakers and slams the front door shut. She doesn’t even notice that tears are lining her eyes and falling onto the apples of her cheeks.
. . .
It’s barely 48 hours later when Y/N’s watching a YouTube video as she stands in the bathroom, doing her nighttime routine.
Like four months prior, when she hoped Harry would be a good rebound for her heartbreak, she's been moping around in self-hatred and sadness. She's in awe of how cruel and oblivious he's being, but more than that, she can't believe she actually believed he had real feelings for her. Ones that extended beyond sex.
She’s brushing her teeth when she notices a text notification come down, redirecting her attention from the influencer vlog to read the name of the sender. She taps on it to see a familiar initial.
From: H (10:32 p.m.)
Sorry for what I said. Can I come over?
733 notes · View notes
satocidal · 6 months
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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“15 missed Calls”—Geto Suguru
Synopsis: Suguru wasn’t a jealous or angry man but then you usually didn’t flaunt your ass a round in a tiny dress either- but hey, Halloween’s every girl’s pass at being a whore, right?
── ˚₊✩‧₊ A/n: ok yeah I’m late to post for Halloween but it’s like barely anything to do with it so <3 also I did stray away from what I’d planned to write but then hehe👉👈 also, thanks to @romiyaro for beta and in general (I swear I’ll get pouty! Reader in some Drabble now💀)
── ˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 3.9k
── ˚₊✩‧₊ warnings: MDNI!!smut!!fem! Reader x Suguru; pussy inspection; degradation; jealous (but totally not toxic) Suguru; orgasm denial; hinted power dynamics; reader is more or less a brat; spitting; Suguru is almost a soft dom? It was supposed to be just smut but idk (PWP)
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“Crawl”
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
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“I’ll be back late, don’t wait up on me Su’”
A nod he passed mindlessly—“Sure thing babe- just lemme know if I have to pick you up and don’t get wasted, send me a message if you change locations and-”
A heavy pause settled in, you walked in skittishly—a bashful grin on your face, “This ok?” Question which referred your dress in place.
Mostly, it wasn’t ok—definitely not appropriate in the way the small little satin piece hugged your body, so short Suguru was sure you would flash somebody after two drinks.
But it was Halloween—every girl’s free pass at being a whore.
A sigh Suguru let out, “it’s gorgeous, you’re gorgeous…”
Your smile, guilty, only spread further, “..but?”
He smiled, shaking his head, “Nothing, just take care ok?” A step towards you and a turn of his finger to give him a spin—chuckling as you twirled excitedly and then hugged him—he was very sure it would be a long night.
-
15 missed calls, 25 messages with the same connotation of “are you ok?” And “where are you?”
A single slurred reply to you 40 messages with a “suguwu :)):) m’ kay. Pck me up im 20?”
And with all obviousness, it wasn’t well received at all—so evident in the way tension hung heavy in the car, your seat belt properly holding you in place—his piercing gaze, and the certain placement of his hand on your thigh that kept you as sober as possible.
“Mm sorry,” you slurred out again, head lolling to the side to look at him—stuck at the way his jaw clenched at your words.
Not a word he passed, not a word after that, did you.
And hence, ride back home was quiet, awkward and…in some way, scary.
Click- the door fell shut, locked, entrapping what was of you and Suguru alone in the house.
And just so suddenly, every stitch in the hem of your flimsy red dress began seeming interesting—“What did I tell you?”
You winced and groaned, internally at his tone—“The fact that I trust you to- to, gods,” he paused as if searching for the right words—but you saw it, the switch in his eyes as they darkened just the slightest—“To leave the house dressed as a cheap little whore, one thing I asked for. Your fucked out lil’ brain can’t even do that?”
You stood there in the middle of your apartment, frowning and loosely, berated as a little kid, it seemed.
“Mm’ sorry Su’ it’s just- the girls-”
A sharp glare from him, enough to make your excuses die down your throat—“The girls this and the girls that right? Why was there nobody when I picked you-”
“-I ordered them all Ubers,” you muttered under your breath, a silence resting again.
“And you couldn’t one for yourself, why?”
You paused, hesitated—never once looking at him, “I thought…I thought I had you so…”
That was when Suguru took notice of the pout you held—the one you did all the time, The one he mostly loved.
“Besides,” you began—attention strained on the memory as you thought hard, “I’m not a child to be taken care of, or someone who’ll get lost-”
What you had assumed would quieten everything down only seemed to uproar a side of him you barely saw.
“Excuse me?”
You gulped, hard—“well yeah-”
“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped, moving all so close—“You were down right freezing and shivering when I pulled up, I don’t care what your girls do but your tits were almost hanging out, like a damn slut. Hell, why did you have those 20 dollar bills stuffed in there?”
You almost wanted to chuckle at the last part- it would make for a funny story, but the look on Suguru’s face screamed that it would have to wait till at least, the next day.
“I was alright,” you scoffed, a hand pushing him away—not a budge that it caused in his stance, “The bartender…he was nice- didn’t even let no one come near our drinks and- and even offered me lemons after closing and-”
“-woman,” Suguru interrupted quick, a long sigh withdrawn, “it was me who offered you lemons,”
You waited—a pink tint already dusted your face, ears burning at his words, “oh.”
He sighed again, seemingly recollecting his thoughts as you bit your lip—gods how he adored you—especially when you wobbled slight, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling yourself into him, head resting in his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, against his body—his hands resting on your sides, “I know you’re a big girl alright? I know you can look after yourself,” he pulled away slight, a kiss landing on your forehead, “but it’s my responsibility too you know? And it was majorly annoying to have you gone like that,”
A nod you passed, again an apology mumbled except this time you were met by the shake of his head.
“No you’re not,” he mumbled, “you do this a lot you know?”
And you do, not informing him of the late night work sessions and what not, not informing him on time of a date cancelled, he was rightfully tired.
“Now, here on I’ll just punish you doll, you can deny it and we’ll go off to sleep and deal with it another time or you can be a good girl, my good girl and take everything because frankly, I’m a little too mad to sleep right now,”
You looked into his words, it wasn’t a bad idea, particularly, you would of course never utter a no.
But then, you knew what it entailed, you knew how it ended last time, how embarrassing but then just how much you loved it too—a nod, all the affirmation provided.
“Strip,” a command from there on, “quick,” he added, eyes boring into your form as he did so.
And strip you did, it wasn’t anything new but just the way your fingers trembled, as did your thoughts as you pulled down the satin dress down—Suguru’s groan was loud, sounding throughout the apartment—your breasts well out easily, “No bra?” And you wanted to snort at the obliviousness of the question, of course, no bra.
“At least tell me you’ve got your panties still on,” you licked your lips, face warmed up at his words—it wasn’t anything new, but then why did that certain tone of condescension feel just so right?
Suguru held back another groan as the white g-string came to his view, the one that he bought, “such a slut,” he whispered.
Over the couch, he motioned you—the sound of his tongue clicking as you stepped forward.
“I’m sure only good girls get to be with dignity,” there on his face, he held a grin which you wanted to slap away too—but all to no avail.
“Crawl” everything in his voice assured you that a brat was not what he would appreciate tonight.
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
It was simply embarrassing, in the way your hips swayed a little as you moved, all that was your dignity remained flitted to that small piece of clothing that you knew Suguru would probably tear away.
Your gaze remained downturned, too ashamed, humiliated to even look him in the eyes—but just one glance and you’d see that amused smirk, the satisfied expression on his face as he took in the sight displayed for him.
You halted near his feet- a ginger lick of your lips, unsure, uncertain on the sequence to be followed, tugging on the hem of his pants in a confused manner.
“Hm? Don’t know what to do? My, and here I thought the big girl was all so smart to do as she pleased,”
You let out a loud whine at his words, startled a little too as he squatted down to your level—“sh,” he muttered, pressing a finger to your lips, “all I want to hear tonight is an actual apology,”
Another nod, tersely you snapped your eyes away, knowing that’s as all you could do tonight.
He hummed along as well, getting up and motioning you with a finger too, “on the couch please doll,” and you were sure what was to come here on.
Across the arm rest you lay, biting your lip—so exposed, so vulnerable and to think he hadn’t shed a single piece of clothing himself.
His fingers were gentle in the way they touched you, you knew he wasn’t mad—but you knew you’d also end up crying by the time he was done.
They traced you gently, over your back, feathery touches to your spine—tickling almost, he bent down just at that too, down to your ear, “Feeling ashamed hm?”
A hum was all to add to his words as you lay yourself easy, tension ebbing away with the way he massaged you—“you know,” he began, “you should be more ashamed of your actions, acting like a brat rather than being ashamed of your pussy and bare ass on display,”
Just at that you wanted the couch to engulf you, you knew that he knew you did—that was the purpose, “You deserve some punishment eh?” A squeal you let you as his pinned you inner thigh, pushing it apart—“should get your pretty little girlfriends too eh? Make em watch since all of you seem like a bunch of sluts to me,”
All in good humour, you reminded yourself, but a small pout found it’s way along your features, as it always did when Suguru got degrading.
“15 spanks,” he mused, “just pink enough right?” — the sentence was ended with another pinch, 15, you but your lip—there would be something more to it.
“15 and you thank me for each, yeah pretty thing? Your pretty head can do that f’me tonight?”
you bobbed your head, not daring to even turn your head and look at him once.
A patient quiet settled in, your body relaxed further—Suguru smiled wide as he looked at you, so perfect for him, “remind me why you’re here sweetheart?”
The sweetness in his vice was sharp still, condescending in every way, “b-because I uh- I…I was out late? Didn’t—did not call o-or inform you-ah!”
-smack!
Your words simply fell short as the slap landed hard on your ass, so sure to grab it right after and and squeeze—Suguru pulled back, and waited.
“Thank you, Suguru,” you sighed, and you waited right after, expecting the next hit.
“We can stop if it’s too much-”
“-I’ll take it, wanna be a good girl, please i-”
A sharp slap on your right cheek and then the left, aimed carefully, accurately proportional, “atta girl,”
“Thank you,” you groaned at his words, eyes clenched shut, surprised in the way he chose not to hold back in midst of your words—but then, typical Suguru.
Just so, many a times Suguru landed the flat of Palm down on your ass, dusty pink to a rosy one, the process was slow as your backside gained its hue, so pretty.
18 spanks in, Suguru never spanked just the amount he promised, always more—the 19th spank sounded like a crack against your warmed up ass, you didn’t bother showing your gratitude.
A small pause, Suguru chuckled, “nothing? Why don’t I just-” a sharp pain elicited in you bottom half as another slap sounded in the room- a hard spank on your pussy, just hard enough to have you gasping.
“Thank you,” you mumbled out—tears forming at the brink of your eyes now,, form slumping onto the couch, exhausted and spent, sore from the position he’d had you hold so long.
“Bet you are, especially from all this wetness,” another slap on your pussy, “getting wet from your punishment?” Another slap, the tears threatened to spill, at this point, “that’s how sorry you are?”
You wanted to scream at him, thatyou were sorry but it was Suguru and this conversation was nuts to begin with so you remained your quiet, the pout slowly turning to a frown.
“On the couch, legs wide apart,” scrambling to your feet, you detested the way he chuckled as you grabbed onto him for support, the booze never helped and the way you were all so sore from hefty time spent in that uncomfortable position, nothing helped at all,, but that was fine, Suguru was gentle in the way he helped you settle.
“Just a small inspection, ok doll?”
The words and the fate of it came crashing down on you fast.
You gritted your teeth at his words, you knew what that meant—he would find your arousal, shame you for it, punish you maybe and you loved the process, every bit of it.
Sprawled across the couch, feet planted to your side onto the couch, while Suguru rested in the place between, warm breath tickling you, making your hole clench around nothing.
“If I slip these panties down,” you’re weren’t sure why he even bothered asking, the wet spot was all so apparent, “will I find you wet?” Even so, you lay audacious—a shake of your head, his smirk widened.
Fingers hooked into the waist and of your g-string, he pulled quick, not a second wasted , he’d been wanting to do this all evening.
An amused raise if his brow, eyes stuck at the string of your juices that worked its way from your pussy to the gusset of your flimsy panties.
There, finally, in all its glory, your pussy lay glistening with arousal under his gaze—“liar,” he grinned as he stared at it hungrily, “such a fuckin’ liar,” he repeated, almost in a daze.
Subconsciously though, your hips rolled, almost lifting to feel his touch, another set of clicking sounds, “don’t act like a cheap whore, you think I’ll just touch your pussy like that?”
Your eyes watched him, confused, as they stared down at his form in between your legs, kneeling for you, hair tied back.
“Need to see if this pussy’s still worth it babe,” and soon enough, everything made sense—a whine of disagreement rose through you, a glare from him acted enough a filter.
“Please, I’m sorry-”
“-prove it doll,” was all he muttered as he dove his fingers onto your pussy, mindful to only cause discomfort as he prodded at your folds, no more or less.
“Let’s see…” he snickered, “gods,” he chuckled, “think I gotta clean all of this before I can even start eh?”
Your eyes bounced around ditzy, you wanted just him, anything—“but the question is do we do this the right way and I wipe you clean? Or…” and all before the statement even came to its end, Suguru had dived in, pressed his hot tongue flat against your folds, basking in the gasp that you let out.
A sharp inhale you took as he pulled away just as fast, his eyes stuck onto yours, “I think cheap whores like you shouldn’t get the better end of the stick so…” with that, you cursed internally at the box of wipes that Suguru and you kept on the coffee table all the time—you cursed as the pulled out three tissues with ease.
“It’s supposed to cause discomfort so be prepared for that but if it hurts or is too much, let me know, ok?”
You nodded at his words, nervousness flickering on your face and he chuckled, squeezing your wrist slight—little comfort that it provided.
The first dab was ginger, as if testing his boundaries, soon came the second and then the third—until Suguru was easily navigating and cleansing you, almost felt infantilising.
How so very humiliating indeed.
“That’s your apology hm?” The smile jo longer rested on his face, “look at only me when I’m down here,” he added, noticing the slight hang of your head and almost closed off eyes.
“Such a naughty girl that you are,” he mused, “am I to believe you got this turned on from a spanking? Or was it something your girls did hm?” A sharp smack that ended on your hardened clit, he stroked it a little while he was there, “how absolutely pathetic doll,”
Shame blanketed you slight, not covering all of what you wanted for you still remained absolutely naked and open on for him, a satisfied hum he passed, tossing away the second tissue after dragging it from your slit all the way down to your other hole.
“Now that I begin inspecting my girl,” he chuckled at the pout you’d held the entire while, “you brought this upon yourself baby,”
And you had, but particularly, Suguru did think you held up better than most times.
You watched as he eyes your pussy, unsure of how to embarrass you further—he grinned, “my my, it’s so pink underneath all that slick hm? Almost as pink as your sweet ass,” with that he landed a sharp slap to your ass, just as a reminder—giggling at your squeal.
Thick fingers spread apart your folds slowly, tracing it over your pussy lips—a tickling sensation, “is your cunt clean enough to be used hm?”
You let out a sigh as he pulled at your folds, making sure to not once lay a finger on your clit—yet accurate enough to just pull back the hood of it.
“Is it clean enough that I can use your little hole now as a cum dump?” His fingers patted down onto your bare cunt, relishing in the wetness that seeped out your hole—“maybe you don’t deserve it all hm?”
With that, Suguru spit on your cunt, the wetness only ever grew as he Smeared it around, “had to make sure,” he snickered mischievously, “that this pussy’s still mine.”
You wanted to whine and groan, shove his head into your pussy so he eat you until you cried—but you know, you knew all too well that any attempts would only get your hands tied and mouth gagged with your soiled panties.
Suguru hummed, snapping his fingers, “eyes on me doll—now, I think, from the outside, you’re ok,” he smirked, “but I’d need to check the inside too right?”
You nodded at his words mindlessly, of course anything he said would he correct, “you’re lucky I’m not mad at ya, would’ve made ya bounce on that dildo of yours till ya’ cried,”
And by now, your patience was running low—Suguru was a tease, apparent from the way your clit itself twitched for his contact, your hips rolled and hole clenched uselessly—you were dying to fight back.
But you wouldn’t, because Suguru demanded a good girl tonight.
A finger moved into you slow, very slow, hips bucked only to be pushed down harshly by Suguru at that—“Take only what I give you,” he warned, loving the feel of your walls clenching about his finger.
You were to watch him, sure but nothing mattered anymore as your head fell back—“please,” you whimpered, “just a little more.”
He smiled at the way your face contorted about his thick finger, slow as he moved it about, a circular motion and then pushing it against your walls before pulling away entirely.
The slick coated his finger just as before, only this time He brought to his mouth still, tasting you right there and humming.
“Good as always,” he muttered, eyeing carefully your ministrations, “please Suguru,” you cried out, “touch me p-please,”
Tricky slope.
Suguru was going to touch you anyways, of course he would but your statement only ever pushed away the ebbing orgasm he would’ve provided.
“Of course, my love,” he grinned—slyly before pushing in two fingers roughly into your hole—loving just how you gasped and mewled about it.
Then again, nothing mattered to you anymore.
"S-S—Suguruuu, harder... please. Moremoremore!" your begs fell in a hoarse voice.
“A sweet spot already?” A toothy grin he held as he pumped the two fingers into you slowly, loving the way your eyes rolled back at his touch.
Your thighs were spread out wide on the couch — raised now in the air as he leaned his body close, reaching knuckle deep and curling his thick fingers up into a gummy spot that made you shudder and grip a cushion.
"Ouh, Fuck! Sugu—"
“Ah, ah, ah, only apologies I said, right?” His tone was so soft even so, almost heavenly that you felt.
You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as he hits deep strokes and massages his fingertips into your gummy walls— sticky juices are all over his hand because of all that cleansing he worked out of you earlier. Suguru smiled to himself, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate getting that couch wet with your juices in the morning—to hell with that.
You looked cute, as you gasped and moaned in his fingers—he took note of the ever present pout on your lips, oh how he wanted to fuck it out of you—but then, the mean thrusts diluted down to gentle strokes soon enough, boy was he soft for you.
Suguru was doting still, knowing that no way you could’ve taken his cock without prep—struggling with even his fingers tonight, he loved being bigger than you.
Bigger, faster, harder and merciless as they pursue your orgasm.
"Gonna cum and make a mess for me again? Yeah?"
"Yes! Please, pleasepleaseplease — make me cum!" you whisper frantically against him.
He chuckled when you moan, pumping his fingers faster and faster, fingering at your clit with his other hand to tip you over the edge.
“Nothing unless I allow it,” he announced finally, ah—that was why he’d been lenient earlier—gods how you hated him.
He studied you intently as your orgasm built up, if only that was his focus onto other things— maybe if he would have had the same determination in general as he does now when finding your G-spot, then he perhaps wouldn’t have struggled with daily life issues as much as he had to.
Suguru's dampened forehead rested against your thighs. He felt the radiating heat of your pussy in this proximity. Those dark eyes never stop staring at you, making sure you're as flustered as possible even in this pleasure-drunk state.
"Fuck... you're gushing..." he says in awe, " 'promise to lick my fingers clean after, yeah?" he rasps against you.
"Yes yes yes!" you say. He's pretty sure that you would have said yes to anything right then; you were so blissed by the way his fingers worked into your soaking hole, by the way they stretched you open just right.
The apartment was filled entirely, with the sound of your gushing pussy squelching with his thrusts—so tempted to attach his tongue onto your cunt but he knew you’d never be able to control yourself after that.
But to tease you was the goal—just slightly, almost a feathery touch he lay on your clit as he began rubbing it again, “shit doll, I do think your pussy’s worth turning a cum dump into,” you groaned at his words—mind almost mush as you chased your high, clenching at his fingers—until he pulled out immediately.
Until your high entirely ebbed away.
A confused and betrayed look you passed him, “wa-wait what? Suguru-! I-”
He simply giggled at your state, slapping your ass one more time as he got up and away, “you’re an idiot if you thought you’d be cummin’ t’night,”
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idyllcy · 5 months
Text
i've never had somebody, so I don't know how to love
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word count: 8.45k
warnings: children (idk), smut, reader has a kid?, fem reader, spoilers
summary: "I shall come back for you." "I shall wait."
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Jinshi swears he just wanted a bite. One bite.
He just wanted a taste. That was all. It's called chocolate, Maomao had told him. He was supposed to save a little for you to taste when he got back to your chambers, but he supposes he ate too much, because by the time he arrives in your room, he's warm and flushed, and the only thing on his mind is folding you in half on the mattress. His poor mind.
"My love! Welcome back." You grin, opening your arms for him as he sinks into your touch. His skin is flush against yours as he mumbles something, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he lets his hands roam. You squirm under his touch as you try and ask him about his day.
"Maomao made me chocolate," He whispers, tugging at the string around your garment. "When I asked her for an aphrodisiac..."
"Mhm?" You hum, running your hand through his hair to pull off the hair tie. "Why would you need one?"
"I felt bad," He bites your collarbone, sucking gently as he slides the dress down your body. "I have not been paying attention to you all that much these days."
"I told you it was fine, and that I would be fine by myself." You tilt your head back for him to kiss up your neck.
He doesn't answer, hand crawling to the back of your head and kissing you instead. You lean back to comply, tilting your head as you taste the chocolate on his lips, humming in content as his tongue explores your mouth and you get to taste the sugar. You whimper as his fingers brush your bare chest, the fabric pooling around your hips as he fondles your boobs, lips still slotted against yours as you moan into his mouth, mind fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. You whimper when he pulls away to pull his own robes, skin pale under the moonlight as your eyes drink in the color of his skin and the curves of his muscles.
"Staring?"
"Mhm." You mumble. "You are beautiful, my love."
"As are you, beloved." He takes your hand, pressing his lips to your knuckles delicately and turning over to your palm to swipe at it with his tongue, eyes locked on yours as he hums. "I may touch you, yes?"
"Yes." You whisper. "Of course."
He goes back to your skin, lips pressed to the plush of your chest as he bites and such, fingers digging into your waist as he holds you still, the chill of the winter night brushing against your back as you squirm from his touch. You wonder how much longer he will pretend to still like you and convince himself that he needs you. Though, as his lashes flutter against your skin as he pulls from your chest with a pop, you feel it's not too far away.
Each time he sleeps with you, there is less love in his hands than before.
This time, he only holds you like this because of the chocolate presented by the maid, and it makes your heart sour when he stares up at you, eyes sick with affection, affection that you're sure would dry out for you one day— affection that haunts your life an uncanny amount. Yet, you sink into his touch as he kneels to slide the rest of the fabric off of you, parting your legs to slide a finger in and pleasure you, lips latched to your clit as it was with your nipple, and you gasp sharply, a ghost of a moan slipping past your lips.
You wonder if he's going to do this with Maomao one day—
You whimper as he slides a second finger into you with ease, mind fuzzy and empty as you glance down at Jinshi, tears blurring your vision as he fucks you on his fingers with practiced precision, quickly sending you into a blurry high, mind fuzzy as you clench around his fingers with your first orgasm of the night. Though, it isn't enough for him, his fingers still sliding in and out of you, even when your eyes blur over and tears fall from the lack of time you get to breathe. His name breaks past your lips in shattered syllables, tears staining the silk of the pillow as you stare down at him, lips puffy and cheeks red.
Jinshi shushes you instead, pressing a kiss to your clit as one of his hands holds your thighs open, the bottom of his chin wet with your slick, and he hums gently, vibrations brushing against your clit as you jolt. The combination with his fingers becomes too much, and you cream around his fingers again, splashing his face with your cum as he laps at it, eyes half-lidded as he does. He stays there until you're whimpering for him to leave you be, tears in the corner of your eyes. He licks the cum off his fingers as he reaches to wipe your tears, leaning forward to kiss them away as your bottom lip quivers.
"Jinshi, my love." You whimper as he lifts one of your legs to rest the ankle on his shoulder.
"Yes, beloved?"
"Please don't leave in the morning." You whisper, arching your back and closing your eyes as he fits himself into you slowly. He's such a good stretch. It makes you sad to think that he would leave you one day. He waits for you to adjust, hand warm on your thigh as you whimper, shifting your hips to adjust to his size. You let a breath out when it doesn't burn, and Jinshi takes it as a sign to start moving, the roll of his hips deliberate to nudge your sweet spots that have you seeing stars, and you hold a strand of his hair between your fingers as he leans forward, dark hair caging the two of you in as you gasp with each thrust, heart hammering in your chest and making you ditzy. You cry his name in broken sobs, a mix of overstimulation and your own heartbreak making the tears indistinguishable to you.
He reaches to wipe your tears as he makes love to you, concern all over his face, and the flush on his cheeks just tears your heart to pieces. He's only here because he had the chocolate. He doesn't visit you during the day anymore, and he only ever comes when he needs to borrow your wisdom— something he doesn't need anymore. something he has Maomao for now. The thought shatters your heart as it twists and turns in your stomach, the tears becoming too much for you to process as your mind blurs over and you let Jinshi do whatever with you. Maybe that would be your last use to him. To be a shell of what you used to be and let him do whatever with you. Maybe that would be replaced one day as well.
One day, you wouldn't even be worth dirt to him.
The thought makes your mind spin as your rationality slips, and you don't notice the way Jinshi slows down to check on you, fingers brushing your cheek as he legs your leg down. You press your hips flush against his, shaking your head as he pries for why you are crying. It is a worthless reason— it is a hopeless case. You quietly beg him to continue, hoping he would let you keep it to yourself.
"Beloved, I can't do that." He reaches to brush your hair to the side as you flinch, and you stare into his eyes as he stares down at you with the same pain in his eyes, and it kills you. He shouldn't look at you like this. You shouldn't be capable of hurting him. You reach to smoothen out the wrinkle on his skin, mumbling about how he would get wrinkles, and he leans into your touch, eyes glossing over with the same kind of hurt that was all over your face when he was missing. His voice strains as he begs you to tell him. To be honest.
"I can fix it." He chokes out.
"Don't leave in the morning." You whisper.
"You know I can't do that." He breaks.
"Then I can't tell you." You crumble. "If you'd like to stop, then you may—"
His hands fly down to hold your waist down into the bed, eyes wide out of some fear, some fear that you would despise him somehow.
"You have to give me time."
"I've given you almost a month. We've been distant for ages." You cry. "Hurry up and fulfill your marital duties so I can give you a son and you can leave me for the one you really want."
"I don't want her!"
"You don't show that!" You sob. "Just..." You sink into the bed, blinking to get the tears out. "may the heavens let us have a son so you can move on."
"I don't want to move on." He whispers, tears falling on your bare skin as he refuses to look you in the eye. "I love you. You are my beloved. The sun and moon may break and shatter, and the winds could blow in the wrong direction, but it could not stop my love for you. Why do you insist I will leave you?"
You go quiet, turning your head to the side as he gets frustrated.
"Fine. You've always been this way anyway." He picks up the pace again, giving you no time to breathe between his thrusts, and you gasp and throw your head back as he uses you like you wanted him to. It frustrates him to end that you just refused to talk to him, but who was he to ask? Who was he to ask you whether or not you would be honest with him? The most emotion you had ever shown was when he bedded you anyway. Why does it matter what you do? The love you had been so adamant to show when you first got married had gone stale anyway.
Jinshi lets you cum one last time before flooding you with his own seed, bent over your body, his hair imitating bars to cage you in as he hangs his head to catch his breath. You, you, you. You, his first love. You, the love of his life. You, the very wife that he had sworn he would cherish. You who refused to marry into a higher level family and had chosen. You who had gone distant because he had... it was his fault, huh? His issue. He had neglected to spend time with you since the arrival of Maomao. No wonder you were so sad.
He pulls out of you and covers you in a blanket, fetching a maid to help you wash off as he redresses himself.
"Will you... stay?" The maid is the one to ask, and Jinshi shakes his head.
"I must clear something up. Let the madam know I will stay next time."
The next nine months pass in a blur. You bear a son to Jinshi, handing him off to the wet nurse, and you move to another residence in the name of recuperating. Jinshi doesn't pay you a visit once. You wonder if it's because he is busy with palace affairs, but you do not touch upon it. You request the emperor to send you to another residence after recuperation without letting Jinshi know, and the old man lets you go. He knows. The whole palace knows. You have become nothing more than a mockery since your husband flounders around with some new maiden he found, and you are let go. You promise your child will serve the emperor well one day with the care of the maids. The emperor laughs and tells you to focus on yourself.
Thus, your son becomes playmates with the young princess, and you disappear from the records of the imperial palace.
The life the emperor had bestowed upon you is restful and serene. The spring residence is quiet and calm with the other concubines, and you are treated as the empress mother would be. There are no conspiracies and you sit down to enjoy tea with all the ladies, quickly forgetting the life you had to bear before. The maids write to you regarding your son under an alias, and you learn that his first word is neither mother nor father, but grandfather. You smile sadly at the letters each time you receive them, and you are never once paid a visit to your residence.
You wonder if you should have taken your son with you in another life.
Maybe in another life, Jinshi had continued to treasure you.
Then, he comes to visit, and you watch from the street as he carries your son with Maomao, getting asked if the young boy was theirs. You observe to see what kind of an answer he has for the kind merchant. You don't know what force compels you to listen, but you do, going quiet as you stare at the apple in your hand. You shouldn't care, but considering the way Jinshi was carrying your son, he must have learned a lot from the maids.
"Ah, she is not my wife." Jinshi's voice resembles silk as always. "My wife is in recuperation after having our son. Childbirth had taken a toll on her."
You have never been so glad that your son had resembled Jinshi so much.
You pull the veil over your head further, and you slip the woman a copper wen, rushing off with the apples you picked. You pass behind Jinshi with haste, wondering if he would recognize your perfume or such. It doesn't bother you. It shouldn't bother you. You had erased all signs of your existence from the palace forever, so even if he were to recognize the scent, he could simply think it of a maid from the spring residence. It didn't matter. It was years, so even if—
A gust of wind blows your hair as the veil is knocked off, and your son calls.
"Niang!"
You make a run for it.
The palace maids had been showing him the art of you. Of course they had. There was no way that you could have forgotten what they wrote to you. Your heart races in your chest as you make it into the palace walls, and you hide from the footsteps that have been chasing after you. Your heart burns in your chest as you catch your breath, eyes wide as you try your best to remain silent to stay still, and you watch as a maid asks what Jinshi is doing on the residence's grounds with your son. He apologizes and lies that his son had wandered off into the court, and you let a breath out when you no longer hear footsteps. You don't want to face him. You can't. You refuse to.
"So? What was that about? Miss?" The maid raises a brow at your figure between the residence buildings.
"Uh..." You smile awkwardly. "Expect to never see me again. Let's pack up and m—"
"I thought it was you." Jinshi speaks up from behind you, and you turn to look away.
"I am afraid I do not know you, kind sir." You turn to face the maid, nodding.
"Beloved." His voice goes weak. "I understand if you wish not to see me, but at least look at our son."
You stop, not moving.
"I won't... do anything. I promise."
You grimace, setting the bitterness in your chest as you open your arms for your son, eyes weary and tired as look at him. You refuse to look up at Jinshi. You refuse to look at the man who had ruined your life and thrown you away during your pregnancy. Yet, you look at your son, a copy of the man you had loved, and you unconsciously put yourself on the verge of tears.
"No frown." Your son reaches for the furrows between your brows. "Niang, smile."
You muster up a sad smile for him, heart crumbling and crinkling in your chest. It feels like paper. The guilt you had so desperately tucked away in your heart shatters you in the worst of ways, and you smile at your son, holding his head to your chest as you carry him off. Jinshi follows behind you, neither of you speaking up as your son falls asleep on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you walk around the residence.
"Where are you staying?" You speak up, stopping to stare at Jinshi.
For the first time in forever, Jinshi gets to stare into your eyes again, and his heart crumbles and cracks as he holds his demeanor, trying his best to pretend that it would be fine. You left him because of his own shortcomings. He has no right to beg for you to return without showing that he had improved as a person. So, he stares into your eyes instead, letting the silence pass as he opens his mouth to speak. Right. You... probably moved on and no longer cared for him. The emperor had granted the two of you to live separately, after all.
"The resting quarters in the city center." He stares into your eyes as he talks, hoping you could see the affection in his eyes that he had refused to let go of.
You stare back at him, eyes cold as the winter snow— it hurts him in a way, but he supposes it was deserved for leaving you all alone. You open your mouth to speak, but your son wakes in your arms, blinking slowly as he shifts to stare at you.
"Niang?" Your son wipes his eyes.
"Would you like to go home with diedie?" You ask your son, hand on the back of his head. He's much heavier than when you first had him, but it makes no difference to you. Your son is your son. The day you pass away is the day you would no longer hold him in your arms.
"Will niang go missing again if I do?"
"You have such a big vocabulary." You praise, lips curled into a smile as you press a kiss to his forehead. "Niang has to stay here. Niang promised yeye to stay here."
Jinshi opens his arms for your son, and he clings onto you instead, pouting. "Then I stay with niang."
"What about Maomao auntie?" You hum, raising a brow at him.
"Mm, I like niang better." He clings onto the fabric around your chest, and you give in.
"You will have to return to yeye with diedie when diedie leaves, though." You stroke his hair. "Alright?"
"What if diedie never leaves?"
Your eyes trail to Jinshi, eyes hardening as you warn him not to stay. "That won't happen, er."
"What if you come back with diedie?"
Some sort of weird hope blooms in Jinshi's chest at your son's words. Maybe your son could convince you.
"That would mean breaking yeye's promise, so no to that as well." You press a kiss to his forehead. "Shall we get you rested?"
He nods, leaning back onto your chest, and you wave for a maid.
"Prepare a room for my guests as well." You nod. "Eunuch Jinshi, please let Maomao know to stay at the spring residence for the duration of your stay."
"I thought you hated her."
"I hate you, not her." You turn to stare at him.
"And me?" He points at himself, pout on his lips.
"Prepare a room in the north." You hum.
"...Are you cursing me with feng shui?"
You stick your tongue out at him.
"And for the young one in your arms?" The maid inquires, peering at the eerie similarity between Jinshi and the boy.
"He shall stay with me."
The maid understands, escorting Jinshi away as you continue about your evening with your son, setting him on your bed as you sit next to him to continue embroidering. At night, when you are sure he is resting, you get out of your room, requesting the maids for some rice wine, and you settle in your garden, staring at the stars as you drink. You blink slowly, trying to recall what constellations were visible to the naked eye. You don't remember. Maybe the liquor is getting to you.
"Drinking?" Jinshi stands next to you as you lay on the ground, and you raise a brow at him.
"You shouldn't be allowed here." You hum. "I'll call the guard—"
"Wait." He holds a hand over your mouth, holding you down, and you lick his palm. "Don't scream."
You stare at him as he removes his hand, and you open your mouth to scream before he holds his hand over your mouth again, eyes wide.
"Don't."
"Depends what you want to do to me."
"Nothing bad." He whispers. "I just want to talk. I promise."
You let him remove his hand and sit up, offering him a drink. He goes quiet, drinking it in one sip as he frowns. You sit in the silence, only the wind to whisper your worries, and you don't bother reacting. Perhaps he just needed a drink and wanted to use talking as an excuse.
He finally speaks up, voice wavering.
"Why did you leave?"
"Why wouldn't I? I gave you a son, didn't I?"
"No, why did you..." He hides his face in his hands. "You didn't tell me."
"You didn't come to see me once during my pregnancy. What courtesy did I owe you?" You click your tongue uncomfortably.
"I had Maomao prescribe you medicine to keep the baby healthy—"
"You did not come see me. Maomao is not you." You stare at him. "And you can not expect to make it up by taking care of our son. It is your paternal duty to spend time with your own blood. So if you expect—"
"I don't." He mumbles. "I don't expect you to come back to me because I'm forming a bond with our son. I thought maybe... you would come back if our son asked you to."
"I promised your father I would not step foot back into the imperial palace."
"I will bring you back and bear the blame." He whispers. "As long as you come back to me."
"Not happening." You stand up. "Feel free to finish the rest of the mijiu."
"Belo—"
You don't let him finish, walking off.
You are not his beloved anymore. You are his partner-in-law, but you are not his beloved. You are the woman he left behind at her weakest and caused to spiral. You are the woman who supposedly mattered to him enough to wed you, but not enough to stay with you after the introduction of someone new. You are not his beloved simply because that was not how one treats their beloved.
You wake up the next morning to your son out of bed and dressed with Jinshi in the room. You raise a brow at him, questioning what he was doing in your room, but he points at your son, who had been on the ground playing with the toys the maids had prepared. You blink at him, smiling when he tells you good morning sweetly. Jinshi smiles gently at the way you smile at your son, and he continues playing, a smile on his face.
"So? Did the court ladies find out?"
"What?"
"That you can have kids."
"They think he's child that the emperor took in." Jinshi mumbles. "Of course, the palace maids assume I am called diedie because I took him in as soon as I found out, not because he is my son."
"Perhaps they believe he looks like you so the heavens assigned you as his father. Do they know I am the mother?"
"No. The palace maids who assisted with your birth were all executed per the emperor's orders."
"Ah." You hum. "How old is he this year?"
"Five. Do you not know your own son's name?" Jinshi stares down at you almost pitifully.
You turn to stare at Jinshi. "I named him. Of course I do."
"Why do you not call him by name?"
"Jingui." You hum, reaching your hand out for your son as he smiles.
"Yes, niang?" He holds your finger in his free hand.
"Did the maids tell you niang named you?"
"After luxury." He smiles, hugging you. "I love you, niang."
"I love you too, er." You mumble, squeezing him. "Niang's sorry I couldn't watch you grow up."
"It's okay," He whispers back. "Guigui is glad niang is here now."
You let him play again, eyes on him as Jinshi continues staring at you.
"What do you want?"
"Return to the imperial court with me."
"I'd rather die." You grumble. "I promised Agong that I would not return in exchange for residence here. I was a laughingstock there. I do not wish to return."
"You will not be. We can—"
"It doesn't matter." You hum. "You are Gui's father. I am not his mother."
"You are his mother."
"In birth." You stand up, Jinshi catching you as you stumble. You thank him with a nod, continuing. "He only needs his capable father."
"And his mother." Jinshi insists, not letting go of your wrist. "He needs his mother. The maids can not replace you for all of his life, especially since he has met you now."
"He does not need me. He may want me, but he does not need me." You hum. "He is capable of existing without his mother."
"That is not true." Jinshi slides his fingers down to your palm, hurt all over his face. "He needs you. Both he and I need you."
You shake your hand free from his. "Then you should have shown your need earlier."
Jinshi fiddles with his fingers, pout on his lips as you raise a brow incredulously at him. You ignore it, calling for a maid instead to change into the day's garments.
"Do you need—"
"I will stab you." You warn. "Out."
"What about our son? Jingui, don't you want your diedie to stay with you?"
Jingui blinks at Jinshi, and he looks at you before standing up and dusting off his robes, taking Jinshi's hand as he leads him outside of the room.
"The maids said not to watch a woman get dressed to respect her privacy." Jingui waves at you as he steps outside of the room, and you laugh at Jinshi's baffled expression. You stick your tongue out at him, lips curled into a smile as the door shuts.
He looks betrayed.
You wonder what kind of parenting the maids did to end up with Jinshi, but you don't ask. You let the maids dress you for the day, and you yawn as you step out of the room, ruffling Jingui's hair as you walk off. He trails behind you, holding your hand as
"Are you not going out with me?"
"Back to work." You hum. "I manage the estate now, you know? Lotssss of paperwork."
"Like diedie?"
"Kind of." You hum. "Diedie does more than niang, though."
"If you leave, does that mean you will have no more work?" He looks up at you.
"I can't do that. You will have to have yeye send someone else to manage the estate." You hum, pulling the doors to your study open. "Bring some snacks."
The maids nod.
"Oh, and you." You point at Jinshi. "Out."
He feigns offense, raising a brow. "What did I do?"
You open your mouth to start listing, and he grumbles. "I get it."
You smile. "Don't you have errands to run with Maomao?"
"She's looking for medicine."
"You should help her out." You hum. "The wilderness out here is quite scary. You wouldn't want someone to hurt her."
Jinshi hangs his head as he steps out of the room.
The day passes without fret, and you watch as the sun sets and you wash up for bed, the heat in the bath gentle against your skin as you take a bath by yourself. Jinshi stays with Jingui to help him wash up, and you tell the servants to stay out of the bath while you wash up. Jinshi leaves first with Jingui, and you leave last, nodding at the servants as they all rush in to wash up.
"I wanna go with niang." Jingui reaches for you as you carry him, lips curled upward.
"Hear that?"
"But diedie spends so much more time with you!" He feigns hurt.
"Exactly!" Jingui sticks his tongue out, and you laugh, cheeks warm. "I have to leave niang soon!"
"I'll take you to bed with niang." You smile. "Hear that, Jinshi? He's niang's boy."
Jinshi pouts, faking annoyance.
You tuck Jingui in for bed first, looking over a book as you stroke his hair, and a branch snaps outside of your window as your hand flies to the sword on the wall.
You whistle for the hawk to yell, sliding out one of the swords for decoration as you hold your weight against the intruder, and you watch as his eyes dart to your son. He disregards you as he aims for Jingui, and you slide your blade to his stomach, kicking him. He lands on the ground with a thud, and you hold your sword above his neck, forcing him down. Your weight isn't enough, and he throws you off of him as you throw your sword at him. It's not sharp enough. It won't cut him.
You throw yourself at him instead, his blade grazing your face as your hands wrap around his throat, your hair a mess as it falls around him, and you hold down until his face turns purple and he no longer thrashes against your grip.
At this point, you expect the maids to rush in. Instead, the first one to come is Jinshi, his thumb brushing the wound on your face as he checks your body in panic.
"Beloved, are you alright?"
"Jingui is fine." You hum, trying to pull your face from his hands.
He tightens his grip instead, staring into your eyes. "You. You're hurt."
"It's fine." You try again as the maids rush in, and you have the guards pull him to the prison. Jinshi doesn't move once, hands still on your face, only trailing down to your shoulders when you crane your neck to talk to the guards and maids.
"Will you be alright, madam?"
"I'll be fine. It's no—"
"Bring me ointment." He tells the maid. "At least let me do that much for you."
The maid looks at you for confirmation, and you nod.
"Get off of me." You push him gently, standing up as he lands on his butt. "Pretending to be worried now? You didn't bother when we were still married."
"We are married." Jinshi whispers, getting up to hold your face in his hands again. "Come on. Let me treat the wound before it turns into a scar."
"Wouldn't that be better? Then I would be uglier." You tilt your head as he takes the ointment from the maid. His fingers brush over your cheek as he leans in to take a look at you properly, and you look to the side as he applies the ointment. Now that you look at it, his face is awfully close to yours. You take note of the blush on his face as he does, and his fingers are cool against your cheek as he applies the medicine. You don't give him a reaction, and he sighs.
"Beloved, you will never be ugly to me." He mumbles, leaning in further, breath mixing with yours, and you stare at him through your lashes, wondering if he would do something.
"Diedie, are you kissing niang?"
You pull away from Jinshi abruptly, and Jinshi looks to the side, face red.
"You're awake?" You get up to hold Jingui, and he rubs his eyes.
"Niang, are you hurt?"
"It was just an intruder. No worries, er." You smile. Jingui reaches for your cheek, trying to touch the wound as Jinshi holds his wrist gently.
"Mommy has medicine on. You're going to rub it off." He hums, taking Jingui from your arms instead. "Die will hold you instead."
"Can we sleep together?"
Jinshi freezes up, blinking at you as you freeze up too, blinking slowly at Jingui.
"Can we?" He pouts.
"I'll keep watch." Jinshi nods. "Maybe another time. Niang is still mad at Diedie."
"You can rest with diedie for the night. Niang has to clean up after the mess." You hum, kissing his cheek. "Niang will go find you in the morning."
"I can clean up." Jinshi frowns.
"It'll be fine." You hum. "The heavenly emperor assigned me to this residence, so I shall fulfill his will."
"He is my father. He would not mind if I were to help my own wife—"
"There's no need." You smile firmly. "Keep your hands clean of my dirt."
You shut the door behind you as you follow the maids to your office, and Jinshi presses his lips to your son's head, resting your son's head on his shoulder as he hums.
"Um, Sir." One of the maids whispers. "If I may... the mistress has a bed in her office. Perhaps the boy could rest there?"
"You think so?" He chuckles. "I'll keep watch for the night. Please lead me there."
He wanders through the residence, the red poles dark in the night, even with the lanterns lit. The floor is crafted of white, and the intricacies of stone along the pillars are dusted gold, and he wonders how much of it had been brought back to life by you. It eats him alive, even with your son in his arms, he wonders if you had worked out to be able to carry your son one day, even if he were too old to be carried.
The stars twinkle in the distance, and he lets himself smile.
"Mistress? May the child borrow your bed?"
"Meimei," You grumble. "I thought I told you to check on them, not bring them to me."
"The boy missed you."
You sigh. "Come in."
"I shall guard." Jinshi nods.
"You may rest as well." You hum. "I shall be heading to the prison tomorrow. I just need to send the hawk."
Jinshi watches as you attach the note to the hawk, and he gets up to hold your face again. "Why not leave Jingui to Meimei? I'll fetch Maomao to see if there's a better ointment for your face to prevent scarring."
"I told you, I am not bothered by such trivial matters."
"It matters to me." He mumbles. "Tomorrow."
"I must interrogate the criminal tomorrow."
"Then right now."
"You do not dare to wake her up for something so minuscule." You glare at him. "Rest with Xiaogui today. I shall call for the two of you tomorrow after dealing with the assassin."
"You must rest well." Jinshi mumbles, kissing your forehead gently. "Please."
You grimace at the kiss. "Very well."
You interrogate the assassin in the morning, sighing when he reveals the target was your son. It must have been a jealous consort or something. You wonder if she thought he would be next in line for the throne since the emperor let the boy call him Grandpa. The consort is some low-ranking one in the main palace, and you don't bother sparing him any mercy, telling the guards to kill him and send his head as a warning. That ought to teach her.
"The eunuch and boy are looking for you."
"Send them to my tea room. I'll see them there."
"Mistress, would you like a change of clothes?" Another maid asks.
"No need." You mumble. "It's fine to go like this."
"What tea shall I prepare?"
"Honey ginger." You hum. "And some cookies for the child."
They nod as you open the door to the room.
"Niang!" Jingui runs up to hug you, and you hum.
"Did you sleep well?"
He nods. You let Jinshi carry him as you work on the papers, and you speak up after Jingui gets drowsy. Perhaps he had been living in a life of assassinations and you were not aware. It would make you feel most awful if he was.
"Are they common?"
Jinshi raises a brow.
"The assassins."
Jinshi shakes his head. "Not in the imperial palace. The emperor has the most security for him compared to anyone."
"I see." You mumble. "How about Maomao? Surely people try poisoning her because she is close to you?"
"She is immune to poisons."
"Right." Your lips quirk up. "I'll send her with a gift this time. I'm sure she'll appreciate it."
Jinshi raises a brow, significantly worried. "Not a poison, right?"
"No promises." You grin.
Jinshi spends the rest of his time trying to spend more time with you and your son, desperation practically reeking off his skin as he sticks to you like a lost puppy without an owner, and the maids start gossiping with you about the potential marriage partner. You snort, telling them that there was no reason he would want a woman who had been used before. You avoid telling them the truth out of an unknown fear. You don't know what stops you. Perhaps you are still worried that he loves Maomao and is only doing this for his blood. Maybe he isn't being honest with you.
It takes a week for him to get to visit you at night, and another week for him to be allowed in your chambers. Maomao reminds him that he can only spare a week here per the emperor's orders, but he pays no mind. He is sure that the heavenly emperor would not mind him spending more time with you. He's sure the old man knew it. After all, he had given him a knowing smile when he had told him to travel with his son and Maomao. It made him feel as though the emperor were up to something. Perhaps he had known Jinshi would see you here.
It is the third week that he had stayed past his welcome when he sits down for a drink with you.
"Play with me." He holds the board with him. "I miss playing wuziqi with you."
"Hm. What do I get if I win?" You reach for the white, placing it down in the center.
"Whatever you want."
"I haven't played in a long time." You hum. "Your turn."
"May we have a heart to heart talk?"
"Be my guest." You hum.
"Why did you leave?"
"You took an interest in Maomao." You hum, placing another bead down. "And I ran away before you could divorce me."
"I did not wish to divorce you." He frowns.
"The whole palace was talking about it, and the emperor did not stop me, so I decided to leave." You shrug.
"I took Maomao in because I wished that she would prescribe some medicine for fertility."
"We had a son, no?"
"We did, but I had been taking medicine prior to that prescribed by her."
"You wanted her for her wisdom just like you wanted me for mine." You hum. "It was a fear, or maybe I just saw myself in her. She is my age, after all."
"Our age." Jinshi reminds. "We are all the same age."
"I suppose." You shrug. "But it felt like I was replaced."
"You were not."
"There was no way to confirm. Not when you had been trying to shove honey down her throat, anyway." You hum. "Four."
He clicks his tongue, stopping you. "What do I get if I win?"
"I suppose you get to bed me." You mumble. "Assuming you haven't bedded Maomao."
"I have not." He clenches his jaw. "I have not touched another woman in years. I am not as so much of a degenerate as to bed women who are not my wife."
"Who knows." You hum. "Four."
"I am not able to bed women there, anyway. After all, I am an eunuch."
"Except I heard Maomao found out you were not one."
"Ah." He freezes up, stopping your newly formed row of four. "That much was an accident. I suppose I saw fragments of you in her."
"Perhaps you had just found her beautiful." You hum. "I most certainly did. She is quite smart, drawing freckles on her face to hide her radiance."
"I found her beautiful, but only because she had reminded me of the plum blossoms on the day I met you." He smiles. "I win."
"What would you like?"
"Let me bed you, please." He whispers. "My wife. My beloved. Let me bed you."
"You must be desperate for some touch." You take off your outer robe, letting the maids know to retire for the night. "Very well."
"You may say no." He whispers, forehead pressed to yours, eyes genuine as he looks at you. "I am not forcing you."
"I don't care if you are using me for your own pleasure." You mumble. "I have not been bedded in the same amount of time."
"Heavens, that burns me more than it should." He wastes no time in undressing, lips pressed to yours as he leads you to the bed, caging your body in as he leans over you, a leg pressed between yours, lips moving against yours messily as his yearning crashes into your body like a wave, his hands tugging at your robes desperately, freeing your skin from the silk and fabric, lips latching to your collarbone to suck, biting all to desperately, rutting into you as he were some rabid dog, his body craving yours as though you were some drug he could not live without.
His fingers slip past your folds as he had done before all the times he had slept with you, bone of his wrist brushing your clit as he slides a finger in with ease, his mouth moving up to your neck, sucking gently as he listens to the way your breath hitches and you whimper when his fingers brush your sweet spot, and he continues, fingers pressing hard as you squeak, sucking you as he pants, desperate to remember your scent for the next handful of months he would no longer be able to see you during. When you quiver around his fingers and flutter, he slides his fingers out, licking them as he pushes you onto the bed, lining himself up, staring down at you for one last promise of consent.
"We can stop." He whispers.
"No."
And that's all Jinshi needs.
Jinshi presses your hips down into the mattress, hips moving against yours as he fucks you, desperation all over his fingers, lips attached to your neck as he sucks, his own breathy ragged as he spends his own stamina satisfying you, passion bleeding past his fingers as his body consumes you, desperate to make up the lost time with you from before. At this point, he disregards how many passing maids will hear his own moans, too focused on the way your skin felt between his fingers and too focused on the way your head was thrown back in a bliss he hadn't seen you wear before.
He wondered how many years you went without being bedded.
Well, not that it mattered. He had probably gone the same amount of time without bedding someone. How could he? The guilt would have eaten him alive from the inside out. So, he channels all his lost years into you instead, groaning when you cum around him again, eyes teary and cheeks puffy, your lips red from his kissing earlier. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your words become incoherent, slurred as he moves a hand down to play with your clit. You squeal as he does, squirming under his touch as he continues to hold you down.
"I love you." He whispers, tears in the corner of his eyes as you can barely hear him.
"I love you." He repeats, with his chest this time, tears splattering onto your chest as he whimpers.
"I love you so much." He gasps as his thumb speeds up on your clit, making you gasp sharply at his confession, your head spinning.
You gush around him again as he finally feels himself reach a high, heart racing against his ribcage as he groans, crashing into you as he pumps you full, resting his head on your collar as you both catch your breaths, and Jinshi feels himself get hard in you again, his shoulders tensing as he does. He can't. He's going to break you, and you're never going to talk to him ever again. He's going to ruin you like he did years ago, and the universe is going to punish him by taking you away again—
"More." You whimper. "Until you've had your fill."
"I'm going to break you." He whispers.
"I'm sure Jingui wouldn't mind having a sibling..." You whisper back.
Jinshi's pupils dilate as he starts again, and you yelp as he goes without warning, a mix of your cum and his making a squelch with each thrust of his. It's lewd. It sounds like the most sinful thing in the world, yet Jinshi thinks of it as music to his ears, all too focused on pleasing you and getting rid of his pent-up lust, your body finally under his as he's waited all these years. He thinks of it as some kind of blessing, to be able to consume your sense as wholly as he used to, only this time sure that you weren't crying because of something he did. He still had lots of making up to do for you, but he supposes this is a start.
You gush around him another time, crying over how it hurt, but still no safe word. He laughs something between a chuckle and scorn, thrilled at the way that you looked like that under him. The maids had been whispering about how you had never bedded anyone once despite your status as supposedly single in the residence, and it made his head spin with possessiveness at the thought that you had still been loyal despite how much he hurt you. He would make it up, he promised. He would stay until the morning this time, and you would get to wake up in his arms like you used to.
The thought makes his hips stutter into yours as you're flooded with warmth a second time, your moan depraved as you feel him fill you again, the white from the sex staining the sheets and your thighs, and you both catch your breath this time, and Jinshi rests his forehead on yours, heavy breaths slipping past his lips as he stares into your eyes, hand moving to brush the hair from your face as you stare at him through glassy eyes.
"I'll be here when you wake up." He whispers. "I'll be here in the morning."
You close your eyes, nodding to the best of your ability.
"I'll kill you if you aren't."
He laughs, rolling over to rest on his back, fingers intertwined with yours as he rolls to his side to look at you.
"You're sticky." You grimace.
"And?" He hums. "So are you."
"We need a bath." You grumble. "I should call a maid to clean me up."
"That will be tomorrow's problem, beloved." He hums, lips curling upward. "Lay with me, my dear."
"If you insist, my love."
You help Maomao and Jinshi pack up their things to go, sending small gifts for the journey with them, and you laugh when Maomao thanks you profusely for the fritillaria unibracteata, and you wave it off as nothing big, a smile on your lips. She promises you that she'll owe you one the next time you need something from her, and you chuckle as she gets onto the carriage with Jingui. Your son gives you one last kiss before getting on as well, and only Jinshi stays behind and refuses to let you go, brushing his thumb over your knuckles as he talks to you.
"Will you... return?"
You shake your head, lips curled into a smile. "Unless you would like to stay?"
"Would you let me?"
"No. I would let Jingui stay, though." You smile at your son peeking at you through the window.
"You would met Jingui stay?" He gasps.
"Yeye would not be happy." Jinshi reminds. "We will return to pick niang up, alright?"
"I will tell yeye to let you come with Jingui next time." Your son stares into your eyes, eerily serious, and you smile.
"Tell yeye I said hi."
Jingui motions for you to come over instead, pressing his lips to your cheek through the window as you laugh, lips curled into a smile as you give him one back. He giggles, reaching his hand out the window to hold yours, and Jinshi shakes his head at his son. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, making Maomao gag in the carriage. He takes your other hand and presses your knuckles to his lips, a smile on his face as he hums against them.
"I shall return for you."
"I shall be waiting."
Jinshi lets go of your fingers, not without one more kiss to your lips, lifting his sleeve to hide the two of you from your son and Maomao as he does. You roll your eyes once he pulls away, and you nod at them as they leave. You stay in place until the carriage is long gone, and you hum, heading back to work with the maids to manage the estate.
When spring comes the next year, the wound on your cheek is gone, a golden carriage arrives, and you laugh as Jingui jumps out of it into your arms, much bigger, smile much brighter. Jinshi steps out next, offering you a hand to pull you up as he introduces the new manager of the estate. Maomao grins at you, whispering about the trade, and you let her know there are farms upon farms of medicine in the land, only for her to grin cheekily at you. You suppose she has her much wanted freedom now.
"Shall we go?" Jinshi offers his hand to help you up as Jingui holds his hand out for you on the carriage, and you smile.
"We shall."
And finally, you are home.
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carolmunson · 2 months
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the boy is mine | a writing exercise
excuse me, can i please talk to you for a minute? do you know somebody named...y-you know his name. oh yeah, definitely, i know his name. well, i just want to let you know that he's mine. no, no, he's mine.
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hi, this is carol and i wanted to create a fun blurb writing exercise a la @superblysubpar and @chechelia considering the current state of the eddie munson x reader fandom. i, personally, can barely stand the seemingly never ending infighting between writers and groups on here. whether it be writing style or characterization, it seems everyone sort of has a problem with everyone. (not me tho, i truly am vibing). in the words of monica and brandy 'you need to give it up, had about enough'. -- so instead of leaving, i wanted to try something fun, fresh, and cute to bring us together. we all have our own eddie munson head cannons that we hold near and dear to our hearts. but i think that's part of what's fun about fandom, there's a little something for everyone. so this exercise is a way for us to all be on the same playing field -- same prompt/dialogues we have to use. only written how your personally HC eddie, our og guy (no au versions pls). i loved how this manifested on cece's old blog because it was so fun to see what people came up with. below is the dialogue and prompt as well as the best way to participate. yes, if you are a steve girl you can participate lol. if you are someone who has me blocked and/or vice versa and would like to participate, please send your link to a friend so i can add it in an upcoming masterlist.
the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer. props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): - "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" - "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." - "and you like that?" - "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem." these don't have to be sexy. they don't have to lead to anything. it's just a romantic night in -- and it can end in anything. angst, fluff, smut, alien invasion. who cares! i just wanna see how you'd write in your world with YOUR eddie. so we can see all of our eddies!
to participate, please write a blurb or ficlet titled 'the boy is mine (____'s edition)' and tag me so that i can add you to the upcoming masterlist. share each other's ficlets. enjoy how they differ and how they are the same. what do we all think is true? what do we differ on? i think this could be really cool.
here's a list of people i'm tagging from different 'x reader' groups to spread the word -- but everyone feel free to do it, please! share with your friends, encourage your friends to do it too: @loveshotzz @chechelia @abibliophobiaa @aphrogeneias @jo-harrington @bewilderedbunny @impmunson @queenimmadolla @oneforthemunny @superblysubpar @sweetsweetjellybean @rebelfell @crappymixtape @lesservillain @courtingchaos @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing @bimbobaggins69 @blueywrites @lonelysatellites @wroteclassicaly @wheels-of-despair @rip-quizilla @upsidedownwithsteve @powderblueblood
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anyasathenaeum · 4 months
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Lover (Nanami x Reader smut)
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A/N:This is my first ever writing for Nanami/JJK as a whole. Please be nice about it. I felt like the Nanami lovers deserved some goodness. Do I know what I'm doing? No. Did I at least enjoy it? Yeah. Anyways, please have this... whatever this piece is. Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader, female terms are used, mentions of penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS).
Nanami is a quiet lover.
His expressions of love are never glorified or big, never flashy or particularly grandiose. He shows how much he loves you through the little, quiet things.
The attention to detail with each and every lunch that's sent with you to your place of work. A hand on your lower back, guiding you through crowded spaces. A moment of remembrance, bringing you a treat or a gift you'd briefly mentioned in passing. A gentle kiss to your knuckles when it's nobody but the two of you, with no prying eyes around to witness the small gesture of love intended just for you. The way his hazel eyes lock onto you and soften oh-so-slightly the second you enter his field of vision. The small ghost of a smile that plays on his lips when he sees you.
Nanami refuses to let the world intrude on the refuge that your love offers. His love is meant for you and you alone. Nobody else would or should be privy to the love he shares with and feels for you. And so, his declarations of love are quiet; little secrets that only the two of you know about and would ever be able to recognize. It takes time, but eventually, you realize that all these little actions scream those three little words that Nanami refuses to say except for in the privacy and safety of your shared home.
"I love you."
Nanami is a gentle lover.
He's seen so much sadness, horror and suffering in this world, and despite his blunt and cold exterior, Nanami does every possible thing to protect you from all the wickedness in the world. It may have claimed others, it may have torn some of his friends from him, but it will not take you from him so long as he draws breath on this earth and he would be damned if he would ever do something that hurt you.
His touch is so, so gentle for somebody so big and so strong, his fingers tracing the softest of patterns over your delicate skin with the lightest touch, taking in every bit of you. His grip, while firm, never tightens to the point of risking hurting you, such as when his large hands hold your hips down and your thighs apart as he uses his tongue to draw the most beautiful sounds from your lips.
"K-Kento, I-... I'm gonna cum.."
You mewl and whine as Nanami continues to use his tongue to drive you closer and closer to your orgasm, his nose rubbing oh-so-gently against your clit with every movement and a hint of a smirk on his lips as his tongue delves deep into your pussy, relishing your taste and the feeling of you squirming from the pleasure he's giving you.
"That's it, my love. Cum for me."
His low voice sends shivers down your back every time, causing your grip on his blonde hair to tighten as he pulls yet another orgasm from you, the overwhelming waves of pleasure coursing through you. His hazel eyes never leave you as he continues to lick your pussy and suck gently on your clit, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible until your body finally relaxes. Once you've recovered, Nanami's kissing you with as much love and care as he can muster, the taste of your slick on his tongue making you wet all over again and the seemingly endless ache for him in your core returns immediately, making you squeeze your thighs together. Of course, nothing escapes Nanami's notice, a rumble of a chuckle escaping him at the sight of your neediness.
"That's my girl."
Nanami is a tender lover.
With every thrust to the hilt inside you, through the haze of his pleasure, Nanami still ensures to treasure you for every moment he spends with you, inside you. You're carefully encased in his arms, tucked almost protectively beneath him as he presses his lips against yours, his cock filling you and stretching you deliciously with each and every stroke.
Soft grunts and growls slip from his lips as he fucks you with surprising tenderness, his gaze often drifting to where the two of you are joined so he can watch himself sink his cock into you over and over again, claiming your body in ways nobody else ever would. His fingers often intertwine with yours against the mattress or pull your hips ever closer to his own, allowing him to thrust into you even deeper.
The sudden, loud moan that escapes you as he angles your hips lets Nanami know that his cock has found the perfect spongy spot inside you, making you see stars as his thrusts increase in speed and intensity.
"K-Kento! Lo-love you! Love you, Kento! Kento, please!"
You can't control the words slipping from your lips as Nanami continues to sink his cock deep into you, never once failing to hit that spot deep inside you. The pleasure you feel is too overwhelming, your words escaping you without a thought and without hesitation as yet another orgasm washes over you, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him. The feeling is so intense that he needs to stop his thrusts in order not to fill you up then and there.
You whine when Nanami suddenly pulls out, a frown on your lips as you gaze up at him hazily.
"You didn't cum, Kento. Why'd you stop?"
The smile he gives you in return makes your heart flip in your chest - his expression is one of pure peace and adoration, the tenderness and affection he feels for you evident in his eyes as he takes everything about you in as you lay beneath him. He doesn't answer you, instead just leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. However, unlike before, this kiss isn't hungry or desperate, but rather gentle and soft and oh-so loving, and you faintly realize that Nanami is cherishing you, your body, your very existence in this moment.
He holds you close to him for a little while, giving you some time to recover before slipping his cock back inside you and beginning his thrusts once more, pulling more beautiful sounds from your lips and more soft moans escaping him as he works you towards yet another orgasm. This time, however, he doesn't slow as you cum once again, your pleasure driving him over the edge with you. A low groan escapes Nanami as he buries himself inside you to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he spills himself deep inside you, his seed coating your walls.
'Where it's meant to be,' Nanami thinks to himself, never saying the words aloud.
As he collapses next to you in the bed, Nanami doesn't hesitate to pull you into his arms, both of you panting from your exertions. He holds you close once again, saying nothing for a while and instead just watching you as you curl up against him, his heart aching for love of you as you press your cheek against his bare chest and wrap your arms around his much larger form. This time, before you can so much as begin to form any words, Nanami leans his head down, his lips by your ear as he whispers those three little words to you softly.
"I love you, (Y/N). Never doubt that."
Nanami is a lover. And his love belongs solely to you.
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
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Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend
Chapter One
There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him
Warnings: smut, marking up, breeding kink carlos
1.3K
Thank to so freaking much to @darleneslane for the idea for this one! Im so obsessed
Series Masterlist
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What is it with interviewers and always asking personal questions? The interview was supposed to be about her new book, and all she was being asked about was potential boyfriends.
She laughed and brushed on the question several times. She couldn't refuse to answer the question; that would just send more curiosity her way. And if she said she was single? Her inbox would be full of flirtatious messages.
Yes, she already had a boyfriend. They'd been together before she had made it big, when she was desperately trying to get somebody to read at least a single page of her writings.
She didn't know who he was when they first met. He was twenty five, gorgeous and oh so charming. It was so easy to fall for him. She fell in love with everything about him, and he with her. Nobody had ever asked her about herself and her writing at the level he did.
On every date he insisted on paying. She wasn't entirely comfortable about it, but she was a struggling author and she had very little money.
She realised who he was when he invited her to a Grand Prix. Initially she had declined. If he had enough money to take the both of them to a Grand Prix, she'd never be able to repay him.
Carlos asked again. It was late, they'd spent the day together and he'd made her dinner. They sat together on the couch, her body against his and his arms around her. "Come with me to a Grand Prix," he asked again and kissed the top of her head.
"Carlos, I can't," she said and turned towards him, her head on his chest.
Carlos kissed the top of her head. "Please," he tried again. "I could really use your support out there."
Suddenly she was sitting up. "You're a driver?" She asked, brows furrowed.
"Mi querida, you didn't know?"
She shook her head. "I thought you were just a really big Ferrari fan or something," she admitted.
Carlos couldn't stop the laugh that left his lips. He opened his arms wide once again and she fell against him. "So, are you coming to the Grand Prix with me?" He asked and she nodded her head.
But it wasn't as simple as that. She realised that the day after she agreed to go. She realised that the moment she got that all important email from a publishing house. The email that would change the trajectory of her life.
As upset that Carlos was that she changed her mind on the Grand Prix with him, he understood. As much as he wanted there, he accepted that she'd be supporting him from her apartment.
Nobody knew about her relationship with the Spanish Formula One driver. Her friends were constantly trying to set her up, but none of the men they introduced her to could hold a candle to Carlos. Not that she went on a date with any of these men. Not when she had Carlos.
The day her book was published, a year after she got that first email, she received an invite to the Ferrari garage. She looked at Carlos across the room and he just smirked.
He strode across the room and stood behind the couch, where she sat with notebooks spread around her. "Please, mi corazón," he said, his hand resting on her shoulders as he leaned over her.
She tipped her head back to look up at him. "Okay," she whispered and Carlos leaned down to kiss her.
But then he jumped over the sofa and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms and spun her around. "You have no idea how happy that makes me," he said and kissed her again.
She set rules. With her book coming out she didn't want to be seen with him, holding his hand or kissing him. She wanted sales off of her own merit, not because Carlos's fans wanted to support her, as sweet as it was.
"One day," he said, his forehead pressed against hers.
"One day," she agreed and kissed him.
She wanted to be there for the entire weekend, but she had meetings with her publisher and her own public relations team. The release of her book was the Wednesday after the Grand Prix and the publishers media team was working hard to push it.
The Grand Prix was a weekend to relax for her. At least, when it came to publishing her book. For the entire Grand Prix she'd have her nails between her teeth, anxiously chewing them.
She was in the Ferrari garage for the race. Nobody quite knew who she was. When the cameras zoomed in on her, the title card beneath her name just said 'indie author', which wasn't strictly true.
It was her first Grand Prix. Carlos was so close to a podium, just missing out. Still, she'd kiss him and celebrate later as though he'd won a world championship.
Carlos watched as Max held Kelly close, as Sergio held his wife and Charles held Alexandra. He wanted that, more than anything he wanted to hold his girl.
Soon, he'd be holding her soon.
That night, hidden away in their hotel room, Carlos wrapped his strong arms around her. His hips moved against her as she moaned and writhed beneath him. He kissed her neck, bit and nibbled, sucking at the skin there.
The bed squeaked as he moved, thrusting into her. "I'm gonna put my baby in you," he grunted, eyes shut as she clenched around him. Her legs shook as she came around him and Carlos let out breathy grunts.
He came, his thrusts sloppy as his seed painted her walls. His forehead was against hers as he pulled out and laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her.
"I love you," she whispered and kissed his nose.
Carlos pulled her into his warm body. "I love you," he whispered back. They fell asleep like that, a tangle of limbs, wrapped in each others loving embrace. For the first time in a year, Carlos was happy to be falling asleep beside the girl he loved after a race.
As they fell asleep, in the early hours of the morning, something very different was happening with the staff of the Ferrari F1 team. Well, for one particular member of the Ferrari F1 team, things were very different.
Maybe the employee was disgruntled, unhappy with their job. They had information that nobody else had, which is why they released it to the world. That was the one piece of power they had as a social media admin.
The post was only online for seconds before another admin took it down. But that was long enough for fifty thousand people to have screenshots. All of the dirty secrets Ferrari had been hiding from the fans. Details of sordid affairs and more. Scuderia Ferrari had been laid bare for the world to see.
The PR team worked through the night. They had to do something, something that would distract the world. "Who is the girl that's been coming to the garage?" Asked a member of the team.
"Who, the author?"
The team member shook her head. "The model. Rebecca something."
"Rebecca Donaldson?"
The team member pointed her pen towards her colleague. "Bingo. We set her up with Carlos and it should take the heat off of us for a while."
It was decided. Carlos Sainz, who the world thought was single, was going to be set up with Rebecca Donaldson to distract the world from the Ferrari blunder.
The ring buried away in his bag would certainly have something to say about it.
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sykostyles · 2 months
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one, two, three; eyes on me
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wc: 2.3k
summary: your husband is tired of your bratty antics
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a/n: oh good lord, I have no explanation for this other than witnessing my horny dash the other day. somebody sedate me.
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cw: established relationship, smut, daddy kink, slight degradation, impact play, p in v sex, anal play, dom/sub dynamics, some manhandling (again if I missed anything pls let me know)
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“Kneel,” The tone of his voice makes your core throb as you make your way to the floor. A sense of guilt washing over you for being so turned on by a single word; a single command. You know he’ll chastise you for it once he notices. “Hands,” you reach your hands behind your back before they’re placed in the leather cuffs you’ve grown accustomed to. He pulls them snug before dropping your arms to rest against your back as he pushes you to lean over the bed. “Spread em’,” his knee comes between your legs as you slide your knees across the floor as far as they’ll allow before he attaches your ankles to the spreader bar. Your eyes are screwed shut as you hear him fumbling through the box behind you. “Do you know why you’re in this position right now?” your husband asks, voice lacking the softness he usually reserved for you.
You nod in response, a whimper leaves your lips as his favorite leather belt comes in contact with the flesh of your ass, sending you forward. “Words,” he reminds you. “You know better.”
“Yes,” you whisper, voice muffled by the fluffy comforter of your bed.
The sound of the belt making contact with your ass again is deafening; the feeling makes you whine. “Yes, what?” he chastises.
“Y-yes, d-daddy,” you choke out.
“You were a bad girl today, weren’t you?” Harry asks, rubbing the smooth leather of the belt over the red marks littering your cheeks before he raises the belt once more, cracking it against your tender skin.
“Yes, daddy.” you repeat, a slight grin forming on your lips. You knew all along. This is exactly what you wanted; to be completely at his mercy while he did whatever he wanted. He turns back to the box, taking his time deciding what to grab next. Settling on the blue gemmed butt plug he’d picked up for you a few weeks ago. He toys with it between his fingers before he takes a stand behind you before dropping to his knees to be eye level with your core.
“Now, you’re gonna take whatever Daddy gives you right, Angel?” He asks, rubbing the plug up and down your slit to gather some of your arousal. 
“Mhm, whatever Daddy wants.” You whimper into the mattress.
“That’s right, whatever Daddy wants. Now, breathe, brat.” He commands as he begins to slowly push the plug into your tighter hole, toying with you before he lets it finally slide into place and he gives it a tap, making you whimper. The stretch is almost mind numbing but you absolutely love it. “We’ll start with twenty. Count,” he says as he begins his assault on your cheeks. One. Two. Three. The sting is almost unbearable, but it turns into pleasure so quickly. Four. Five. Six. Your brain is almost turned to complete mush. Seven. Eight. Nine. Each blow stings a little more than the last; but that just makes the pleasure all the more better. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
“Thirteen,” you moan out, writhing as much as your stretched out legs will allow you. 
“I think you’re enjoying this, look at how much you’re dripping.” Harry mocks from behind you, dipping one of his fingers inside your hole, making you mewl, and push your hips back towards his hand. “I didn’t say you could move,” he sneers, withdrawing his hand and bringing the belt down again, making you jolt forward back into your rightful spot. Smack after smack, blow after blow.
“Twenty,” the feeling of the plug constantly being forced forward from the movement of your hips with each blow of the belt almost has you bursting at the seams. The belt hits the floor. Your breathing is labored and tears are staining your cheeks as his hands rub soothing circles over the reddened flesh of your ass. Your husband's hand snakes up the middle of your back before grabbing a fist full of your hair and forcing you to look in front of you at the full-length mirror that he has pulled from the corner of the room; But your eyes are still screwed shut.
“One, two, three; eyes on me,” he says in a sing-songy voice. “Want you to watch as daddy absolutely ruins his perfect pussy.” His other hand smooths down the length of your back to toy with the plug in your ass, pushing and pulling on the gem; pulling moan after moan from you. Your eyes snap open and you meet his gaze in the mirror. “There she is,” he coos, “Daddys’ bad girl.”
“Wan’ be your good girl,” you whine, “Wan’ be daddys’ good girl.” you’re wiggling your hips to get any kind of friction.
“You should have thought about that before you acted the way you did today,” He says, “You’re going to watch me use your little hole to get myself off, we’re going to shower and then you’re going to bed.” He’s lining himself up with your entrance and about to start pushing in when you–
–“No! That’s not.. That’s not fair!” you protest. You wanted him to be rough with you, not to deny you. He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls you up against his front.
“What’s not fair, is me not knowing where you were for six hours today because you thought you were being cute by turning your location off.” He spits, “You’re lucky you’re getting this much out of me after today.” He says tossing you back down onto the bed. 
“Please, daddy. I’ll do anything.” You beg, looking at him with pleading eyes in the mirror.
“No, now take your punishment like a big girl.” He says before pushing in inch by inch, making your mouth form that little “O” that he loves so much. “S-shit, Angel. Such a tight little pussy.” He groans. One hand finds your hip as he starts the push and pull, and the other winds in your hair again. “Ah ah ah, eyes open,” he warns when your eyes start to flutter shut, making you snap your eyes open to meet his gaze in the mirror again.
Mutters of “daddy, daddy, daddy,” leave your lips with every thrust of his hips. The feeling of his cock rubbing against every sweet spot mixed with the angle of having him bump up with the plug in your ass has your head in the clouds. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so on fire in your life.  “So good, daddy.. please.” you whine, “please, please, please.. I’m so close daddy, please!” Your pleas have him switching his hold and forcing the side of your face into the comforter beneath you.
“No, you better hold it.” He warns from above you, his hips still pistoning into you, forcing the plug to grind even further into your ass.
“C-can’t, daddy. Can’t do it!” You say as your body betrays you. Flashes of white lightning litter your vision as your entire body heats up in red hot pleasure. “Oh n-no, daddy, i’m sor–” you’re cut off by being torn from your spot and flipped over onto your back, bound hands still behind you. Soft fingertips make harsh contact with your left cheek, making you gasp.
“I thought I told you to hold it,” he scolds you, taking hold of your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks.
“I-I tried, daddy, I promise I tried,” you whimper beneath him, “I’m sorry, daddy, I’m sorry,” your lip wobbles as fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks. He narrows his eyes at you.
“Mm,” is all he says in response. He doesn’t put himself back in though. He reaches under you and undoes the leather cuffs and tosses them into the box. He reaches down to free you from the bar before standing again. “Turn over,” He says, tapping your hip with two fingers. You slowly turn over, mostly because of the ache in between your legs and the plug in your ass. He carefully slides his hand down before gripping the edges of the plug between his fingers, “Breathe,” he reminds you as he slowly retrieves the toy, making you whine at the empty feeling. “In the shower you go,” he says with a light tap to your right buttcheek.
“B-but what abo–” you start to argue.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, tone firm as he gathers everything he’s used tonight before walking into the bathroom and setting the toys in the sink. “C’mon,” He’s holding his hand out to you after he walks back into the bedroom and notices you’re still laying in the same spot. “Listen for once today, please.” He’s pleading with you now. You stand and place your hand in his and he guides you into the shower with him.
You’re standing as far away from him as possible inside the shower as he turns the water on. Your arms are wrapped around your chest; as you suddenly feel exposed and embarrassed that you were unable to keep it together. Tears begin to burn in your eyes as you watch him. You feel horrible. All day all you wanted was his attention, but you went about it in all the wrong ways. You’d really pushed him too far this time. He’s never been this level of upset with you to end a scene before it was actually over, or before a safeword was called. After he’s got the water to the temperature he knows you’ll like, he turns to you and takes in your appearance.
“C’mon. No need to cry.” He says, pulling you to his front, but you’re not budging. Your arms remain tightly wrapped around you.
‘M sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to,” you sniffle.
“Didn’t mean to cum or didn’t mean to act like such a brat all day?” he asks, taking hold of your arms to wrap them around himself.
“I-I just wanted y-your attention,” you whine, “I’ve just m-missed you s’all.” 
He breathes a shaky breath through his nose. “There are other ways of getting my attention that don’t involve me scouring the entire city for you because you decided to turn your location off, not be where you were supposed to be, and ignore all of my phone calls.” He states, “Do you know how worried I’ve been all day?” Tears are in his eyes now. “Do you know what I would have done if something had actually happened to you?” his demeanor is cracking, “I would have lost everything,” is the last thing he says before the tears flow over, he can’t stop them. 
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” you cry to him, pulling him into your embrace as you guide him to the floor of the shower. You’re settled on your knees on either side of his legs, holding his head against your chest as his arms are pulled so tightly around you; like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” You’re cradling his face as he just lets the tears fall from his eyes. He’s had to keep up his strong bravado all day, but he can’t seem to do it anymore. He feels terrible inside for making you feel like you had to cause a scene in order to get him to pay attention to you, but the level of extreme you went to today had his head in a spiral. He didn’t know what to do. Being held by you now, his mind begins to ease.
“Please, never do that again,” He pleads with you. “Never do that to me again,” his forehead comes to rest on yours.
“I-I won’t. I promise, daddy. I promise.” Your hands take hold of either side of his face as the words leave you but he shakes his head.
“No, baby. I don’t want to be daddy right now. Want to be Harry; Want to be your husband.” His hands finding a soft grip on your wrists, his eyes searching yours; pleading with you to come back to him. The longing in his eyes snap you out of it.
“Okay, Harry,” you nod. “I’m here, baby,” your hands moving to grasp at the nape of his neck, angling his face towards yours as you place soft kisses all over.
“Can’t lose you, baby,” he whines, “Not ever,” his hands begin exploring the expanse of your water slicked skin; easily gliding along the surface of all his favorite spots before they stop on your hips, giving them a squeeze.
“I’m right here,” you soothe, “Not leaving you, Har,” you press a kiss to his lips, “Never,” you whisper against them before you pull away to look at his face.
“Gotta feel you, baby,” he rushes out, “C-can I, please?” his tone leaning on the side of desperate; hands moving to the plump flesh of your ass as his fingertips dig into the still sore skin, making you slightly wince. “Need to feel my wife," your head spins at the reminder that this man is in fact your husband. He knows you love it.
“Okay, y-yeah,” you breathe out, “Whatever you want, baby,” lifting yourself up on your knees before he stops you.
“No,” he says, “Want you to want it too,” he reaches up with one hand to lean your gaze down to be level with his.
“Always want you, Harry,” you tell him before covering his lips with yours. His hands return to your hips as he guides you further up on your knees, before he reaches down to line himself up with your pulsing hole, and guiding you back down his length. “G-god,” you whine, “s-so big, Har.” The stretch has you feeling delirious; a delicious sting you’ve been in love with for many years now.
“Yeah?” he grins, “My little wife can take it, though,” he says, pulling you flush against him, letting you get adjusted before you begin to bounce on his cock. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. His face is tucked into your neck, whispering sweet praises of adoration, against the skin of your throat in between the open mouthed kisses he laid on the surface. The delicious sting of his cock rubbing against every nook and cranny inside of you; he sets your skin ablaze without even trying. But something switches in your mind. You want to make him feel good; you want to make it up to him for making him worry so much all day just because you wanted some attention.
“Oh–haah, fuck–Harry,” you whimper, snaking your hand up to the front of his throat and grasping with a light hold.
“Oh?” He inquires, lighting flashes in his eyes as he searches yours, “Does my wife want to take control?” He’s teasing you, a sly grin evident on his face, “Do you really think you can handle that?”
“Uhuh,” you confirm, “Know I can,” you say, speeding up the movements of your hips.
“Prove it then, baby.” 
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c/n: I'm sorry 🫣 I'll go touch grass now!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed! <3
all dividers by @/cafekitsune
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