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#u can go for a wander if you like or if you have questions i can just try to answer them as best i can hahahahaha
seraphdreams · 6 months
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JJK MEN AS YOUR PERSONAL TRAINER. | TOJI FUSHIGURO, GOJO SATORU, CHOSO KAMO, SUGURU GETO.
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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. having private sessions with the men prove to be an experience. what type of trainer are each of them?
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, edging, degradation, praise, dry humping, fellatio, switch!choso, overstimulation, emo boy!choso, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, they are all whores. mdni <3
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.1k
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! oh em gee ?? headcanon format ? yup! i originally wrote this as a little joke since i started pilates but then my mind wandered and it wasn’t a joke anymore. other than that, ino was supposed to be on the list but he couldn’t make it :( something about being busy .. regardless, comment / reblog if u like ! it would make my day, thank u ♡
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TOJI — THE CORRUPT TRAINER.
there must’ve been a clear distinction as to why your trainer only allowed sessions from 9pm up until midnight, but your desperation when it came to relentlessly searching for a personal trainer didn’t leave enough room in your mind to think deeper about the true nature of its shadiness. all you needed was a spotter, and toji’s services claimed to provide just that.
and what happens when you combine height, a monsterous build, superhuman stamina, and a handsome face? well, you get toji fushiguro in all his abhorrent glory.
his chiseled body virtually doubled your frame with biceps the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to emphasize the narrowness of his waist, and veins crawling up his limbs even when the muscles weren’t flexed. a mean looking man with a scar over his mouth like some battered veteran. whatever he got into during the day was truly nothing you’d want to take part in.
inviting him over to your home gym was one thing, but it was looking to be another when his “help” took the form of sensuality; his large hands running along the back of your thighs when he’d seemingly fold you over with your legs on either side of your head for warm-up stretches, or even the occasional groping of your ass when it came down to squats, he was barely doing his job, what you paid a hefty price for, and yet you loved every bit of it.
“c’mon, you can take more of it, cant’cha?” toji’s gruff voice goads, watching the way your tiny cunt struggles with swallowing the head of his wrist-thick, bulbous cock. you were put in the awkward position of doggy, yet another one of his sessions derailed and he deemed this new workout could help you build up some much needed endurance. you were going to need it if you planned on keeping him around.
it surely seems that way when you’re practically running from the pleasure he pistons into you, thick cock kissing your cervix with each skillful, angled thrust of his. large hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place for him — because if there was one thing your personal trainer was strict about, it was form. and your form was beyond perfect.
“‘s just too good.” you mindlessly whined, attempting your hardest to grip onto the thin cushion of the yoga mat beneath you. toji lets out a deep scoff at your vocables, driving his hips against your ass once more, this time a bit sharper with a hint of fervor as its aftertaste. “and you’ve been training with me for how long now?” his question came out in a mocking tone as his lips stretched wide in a crooked smile, that of a statement rather than a query.
“t-two weeks .. fuck.” you respond, mind going hazy from the gaining intensity of his potent movements. the feeling was all too much, it came as no surprise when pleasure began to surge from your spine to coil at your core, building up that high you've been chasing for the past hour, that grumpy ol’ toji continued to rip away from you.
pressing a heavy hand to the small of your back, he arches you forward, groaning at the sight of how swiftly you position yourself for him, your face pushed against the mat.
maybe his training has paid off. . “two weeks and you’re still struggling to take my cock?” he pulled your hips back against his, leaving you defenseless in the ministrations. “guess i need to train this pretty little hole of yours more often.”
with the end of his sentence, he snakes his thick arm around your waist, the pad of his thumb finding your achy, puffy clit, rubbing the nub in tight, harsh circles. if your moans weren’t already loud enough, you were sure the whole town could hear you by now, crying out his name like no tomorrow while your legs trembled with your impending orgasm. “‘m cumming! so hard!” you cry, drooling into the mat as he fucks you through your orgasm.
it wasn’t until soon after that he finally reached his high, sending hot and sticky ropes of cum into your womb. not once had a session with toji ended with him shooting his cum in a more responsible way, with a rubber. it was clear to you since the very first time you allowed his fantasies to come to fruition — toji didn’t believe in condoms.
your body went lax as soon as he pulled out, and he tucked his cock back into his pants, hovering over your sad frame with an amused smirk on his scarred lips.
“good session. i expect $800 wired to my account by the mornin’.”
GOJO — THE ENABLING TRAINER.
when you first showed up to the private room of your local gym in search of your assigned instructor for the night a.k.a “the strongest,” you were expecting some big burly man with a cocky attitude — someone you didn’t particularly get along with. but much to your surprise, instead, he was handsome; fluffy white strands of hair that strayed upwards and a million dollar smile with just the charisma, the charm to back it up.
gojo stood over 6 feet tall, and although he was on the lankier side, there was no denying the lean muscles that peeked through his skintight black top. he smiled, throwing a loose cloth over his broad shoulders.
“you ready to get started?”
your eyes greedily took him in, scanning over the finer details of his gorgeous build. it wasn’t until about thirty seconds of daydreaming about what he’d look like unclothed that you finally gave him a response in the form of a nod and hum.
of course satoru wasn’t an idiot, he could tell from how dazed you were during the first few minutes of instruction that you were focused on something else, not that he minds though, it’s truly an honor that a girl as pretty as you is capable of fawning over him, just as many others do.
after having to shake your thoughts whenever it came to watching him take a large swig from his water, droplets of the liquid streaming down his chin to graze his prominent adam's apple, or the soft appraises he’d coo when you finally got the hang of his workouts, it was the end of yet another vigorous session with him, sweat dripping from your chin down to your chest that was scantily clad in a baby pink sports bra. you held on taut to your water bottle as satoru carried conversation with you.
“you improved so much in just an hour. i’m proud.”
his praises barely reached your ears before you looked at him with adoration glossed over those pretty eyes — there was something about him that you just couldn’t get over, but you knew you needed him badly. you dabbed perspiration from your forehead with a matching pink towel, soft smile forming on your doll-like features.
“thank you,”
he nods his head slightly before starting, “you seemed a bit distracted today, though. something on your mind?” his query pulled you from your gojo-induced hypnosis, causing you to blink away the embarrassment pooling up within you. were you truly that obvious?
“hm? there’s nothing, i’m fine,” your reply came out low and sheepish while your eyes struggled to find anywhere else to settle besides those bright baby blues. he took it upon himself to inch closer to you, studying your features until you gasped softly once your back hit the wall. “nothing?” he asks for confirmation, and you affirm. “nothing.”
“all you gotta do is use your words if you need me.”
gojo’s hands found their way at your thighs, creeping them upwards underneath the thin spandex of your shorts. his touch felt hot against your skin, each brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your inner thigh causing shivers to trickle down your spine while he watched with mirth at your pitiful attempt to keep your whines at bay.
“i think .. i think i need you.”
with that, satoru smirked and lifted your leg up just enough so that it fell over his arm. his lips met yours with a salacious that only the whorest of whores could possess, skilled tongue angling its way inside your mouth to gently clash with yours in the sweetest harmony that had you buckling underneath the frame of his body.
it must’ve been a spur of the moment when you found yourself rutting your hips up in search for satoru’s, a pitchy moan sounded into the kiss when he matches your ministrations, grinding his sweatpant clad and half-hard, leaking length into the seat of your shorts; creating the most delicious sensation as the tip nudged against your clit.
his free hand took purchase at your cheek, his thumb rubbing ever so gently against the heated skin while his movements increased in greediness. your mind’s too hazy to make out anything besides the pleasure and build up of your orgasm — so much so, that it pulled you back to reality as soon as it hit, your sloppy kisses coating gojo’s soft lips in a thin sheen and the seat of your shorts sopping wet from the release of your high.
yet, gojo kept at it until he too came to a falter, cumming an ample amount in his sweats while groaning deep into your mouth. he separated from the kiss for just a split second before he took it upon him to goad,
“we can add 30 more minutes and i’ll give you more than just a taste.”
CHOSO — THE INTIMIDATING TRAINER.
a pierced tongue, some tattoos running along both veined arms, and a deep, monotonous voice were a recipe for your timidness when it came to the kamo, who you’d invited over for your very first home training session. it didn’t help that he was on the quieter side, responding to whatever small talk you’d make with one or two words while his intense eyes would follow every move you’d make as he’d help with your form.
he truly wasn’t a bad guy, or so you thought. even now, during your session with him, his praises were appropriate, he wasn’t too handsy nor did he seem to have any ill intent; being with him felt surprisingly comfortable and refreshing just as the crisp, cold water you two were currently drinking, made fresh from your refrigerator’s tap.
“was it too intense?” he’d asked in regard to the exercises you had just completed. intense was an understatement, you didn’t know how you could move your body in such ways that you did, which wouldn’t have been possible without his expertise. choso set the chilled glass of water down onto your coffee table, feeling coy from sitting on your couch, something he’d never done even with his regulars, and in response, you shook your head at the query, settling yourself by his side.
there was truly no denying how absolutely stunning you were, like some angelic being brought to him from the heavens up above in the form of the sweetest thing he’s ever met. he was afraid that if he blinked too hard, you’d vanish.
the more his eyes focused on your lips when you talked, how you’d massage the sore muscles of your thighs and even let out cute whines because of the fact, the more he found it harder to contain his thoughts, rapidfire in his mind. those perverted thoughts that only some horny teenager could have, not a well off adult like him.
yet, it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting hard in his sweats, a dark grey patch spreading at the crotch, what he’d hoped you’d mistake as spilt water.
“shit,” with that of a husky sigh, he ran his hand over his face, tinges of pink battering the tattooed scar across his nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry.”
oblivious to his situation, you were quick to express your inquiry. “sorry about wh- oh.” the head of his cock practically peeked through the barrier of the hem of his sweats while he made a futile effort to cover himself with one of your pillows once you had realized.
he looked cute like that, embarrassed by something so natural that it even spurred on your arousal, the thought of him getting worked up over you doing virtually nothing. “i-it’s okay.. i can help you if you want.” you offer, moving your position to sit between his thighs.
violet hued eyes widened from your newfound boldness, the clearing of his throat being the only true source of sound he could make in that moment.
“nah, nah. it’s-“ before he could inch out the words, you were drawing featherlight circles at his tip over the fabric, causing his breath to hitch and resolve to falter.
choso wasn’t someone who’d allow himself to be in such a pathetic situation, yet the thought of you carrying out his perfect porn plot fantasy was all he needed for that internal morality to fly straight out the window.
you chuckled at the way he hiked himself up when you finally took him from his bottoms and into your hot, wet mouth. just the sight of his cock disappearing past soft, glossy pink lips has his temperature rising, feeling as though he could pass out.
it’s hazy for him — your hand at the base, the rhythmic bobbing of your head slowly while gradually picking up speed. he never would’ve thought the job he took on for extra cash to fund his college textbooks would end up with someone as gorgeous as you giving him a chance. every pump of your hand around what couldn’t fit into your mouth had him groaning, bucking his hips up as gently as he could without battering the back of your throat.
though, he wouldn’t mind if he did.
staving off a gag, you ultimately increased your pace, determined to get him off while your other hand fondled his plump balls.
from the faint touches alone, he could feel his high approaching, embarrassingly quicker than usual. yet, he couldn’t help it when you started to grow sloppy, a mix of spit and precum dribbling down his shaft.
“w-wait, fuck.. ‘m gonna.”
it took no time for him to shoot his seed into your awaiting throat, his head thrown back against the headrest while he bucked his hips to jettison every last drop. you swallowed all he had to offer before pulling away, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
maybe he wasn’t as intimidating after all.
GETO — THE CHARMING TRAINER.
you were his favorite. you had to be. even in the long line of women waiting to have their own turn with him, you were always a top contender. he had always made time for you, and you alone.
geto’s popularity made perfect sense in your mind. he was tall, handsome with narrow features and dragon tattoos strung along both arms, a man ahead of his time. not to mention, his docile, gentle demeanor. he was charming as all get out and you were beyond aware of your superstar status of being the only one he wanted.
“are we actually going to get some training done or is there something else you want to do?” he straps his fingerless gloves around his palm, tank top tight around his torso, carving out each and every trace of his abs while looking over you, a pleasant smile quirked at his lips.
you felt sheepish under his sharp gaze, a feeling that comes all too natural with expert trainer, suguru geto. “i’m fine with whatever you have in mind, sugu.”
if you didn’t know any better, you’d swore you saw his cheeks dust in the lightest shade of pink at the endearing nickname. you were cute, too fucking cute and perhaps, that was the reason he kept you around.
“i’m thinking we test that stamina ‘nd see if you can hold up riding me?” he hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up just slightly. “no help, all on your own.” in all honesty, you could definitely take up his challenge. how hard could it be to take some dick?
or so you thought.
“fuck, sugu! ‘s too much!”
you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the miserable state that you were in but it ultimately did seem as though geto’s lessons had gotten you nowhere. the tip of his cock wasn’t even an inch past your cunt while you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, pathetically trying to take what was the easiest part.
he smirked at you, resting his hands behind his head. “i’m not helping, princess. i meant it.”
you continued to try and sink yourself down onto his unreasonably thick cock, a soft crack of a whine tumbling past parted lips when your pussy engulfed another half inch of him. “but-“
“if i have to help you, we’re not finishing until you’re a mess.” he grits, not harsh enough to come off as daunting but stern enough to warn you. yet, the warning fell to deaf ears when you began to whorishly beg pleas of “help me, sugu. help me.”
from that, he let out a low groan, his hands on your waist sinking you all the way down to the base before he gained stability, flattening his feet onto the floor and fucking his cock into your fluttering cunt.
with the way he moves, you were almost positive you had the wind knocked out of you from those first few thrusts alone. soft babbles resonated throughout the room while you clung to his body like it’d comfort you in the hell that was his potent ministrations.
you felt far more sensitive than you ever felt, white hot pleasure coiling within you in no time, your pussy tightening around his shaft in such a suffocating way, geto felt as though he couldn’t breathe either. “s-so tight, princess. i know you wanna cum, cum for me, baby.” he goads through a strained voice, his thumb now working between your folds to find purchase at your clit, rubbing the puffy nub in moderate circles.
“if you do t-that, i might—“
and before you knew it, you were gushing around his pretty cock, face twisted in the prettiest picture of pleasure. the aftershocks of your orgasm were way more intense as you were fucked to overstimulation, a sly grin on his lips.
“told you we weren’t stopping, darling.”
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horrorartsworld · 3 months
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P☆RN STAR
valentino/shy bunny based demon f!reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw content duh
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Valentino takes a long drag of his cigarette as he sits next to Vox in his booming night club, “Club Hell 666”, speaking about the recent activities and work related stuff that’s been going on between the two of them.
So involved in the conversation the moth man didn’t realize the tiny figure that walked up to him.
“U-ummm…excuse me Mr. Valentino sir…” Your soft voice could barley be heard over the obnoxiously loud music that was playing that you could practically feel the bass thumping along with the rhythm of your heartbeat.
You rub your arm awkwardly standing there for a moment before Vox nudges Val in the side nodding over to you.
He blows out his red smoke letting it swirl around you causing you to cough a little and scrunch your nose.
“My…my~” He tilts his head with an amused smirk as he eyes you up and down letting his heart-shaped sunglasses slide down for you to get a better view of his piercing eyes.
“What brings you to me, cariño?~”
You hug yourself closely trying to not let your eyes wander to the dancers or workers dressed in skimpy clothing walking past, you were quite nervous as it is to talk to the Overlord of Lust for a job…
“I-i’m here for work…”
“Work hmmm? Well you came to the right person, sweetheart. A pretty thing like you~…” He dramatically pauses for a second taking in your figure once more before continuing, “oh~ I definitely have a few positions open…”
You shift uneasily as you weren’t use to all this attention making your cheeks automatically burn which didn’t go unnoticed by him.
Snickering, he leans over to mumble something to Vox who sent you over a wink before Val turned his attention back to you.
“Come, let’s have a little interview shall we~”
Valentino stands up towering over you as he wraps an arm around your shoulder and another around your waist as he takes you towards his office in the night club.
Shutting the door behind you he gestures you to take a seat infront of him as leans back in his chair lighting back up his cigarette from earlier and taking a nice drag before sitting forward, looking down at this little….bunny.
“Now that I got you here doll I gotta ask you some questions to see if your worthy of my establishment..”
He smiles wickedly as you nod gingerly understanding of his terms.
“Are ya loyal? And i mean realllllllly loyal…”
“Y-yes i’m very loyal…” You spoke again softly knowing at this point you were so desperate for a job you were willing to just please him with the right answers.
“Good to know~”
He pauses for a moment, considering his next question.
“Now….you don’t mind getting a little filthy, do ya?”
“Oh no….i mean i can um be filthy…” You mumble the last part coughing a little as the smoke lingered your way once more as you feel your cheeks burn at the idea of the question.
Valentino lets out a pleased purr at your answer and seeing your shyness just turned him on.
“Mmmm….I think i’m gonna love you, bunny.” His voice husky as he rested his elbows on his desk with his cigarette between his fingers and his cheeks in his hands looking at you with a lustfully taunting gaze that makes you squirm in your seat.
“How do you feel about people touching you?~”
“I surely enjoy it…”
Valentino snickers at this as he glances over at the calendar admist pictures of all his successful movies. “Oh do you now?…” His expression still amused, but his voice had an underlying hint of danger growing to it as he went on to ask you more questions practically pulling any indecent thought out of you and putting it to fruition.
“This interview is definitely going great….now let me see the goods baby~”
You look at him innocently now as if playing dumb as you ask, “t-the goods sir?~”.
“The goods…” He gives you a nod insinuating for you to stand up. In which you quickly did practically shooting up out of the chair.
He chuckles at this and then he glances down and sees the way your outfit accentuated your body so perfectly that he just had to see the back. Not hiding his anticipation as he makes a swift gesture for you to turn around. You nibble your bottom lip hugging your fluffy chest as you turn around showing a little cotton tail poking out from your leggings catching Valentino by surprise as it was wiggling vigorously.
He slowly rises from his desk shrugging of his coat and putting out the cigarette, never once taking his eyes off your behind. He takes a deep breath in appreciation as he then gives a small whistle.
“Damn…you’ve got quite the looks from this angle baby~” He then pauses once more to savor the view before he walks closer to you.
“So far i’m liking everything i’m seeing…” He stands right behind you and places his hands on your shoulders, slowly giving them a playful squeeze before he leans down, so close that his breath grazes the back of your neck.
“l think you’re gonna be the perfect little bunny toy~” His voice low and teasing. Your breath hitching as your behind gently rubs against his hard-on the heat radiating between your thighs started to get to your little rabbit mind.
Valentino smirks, now feeling how hot your body has gotten. Your body temperature steadily rising.
“But… first we’ve got to take a look at one last thing..”
One of his hands goes to your lower back forcefully bending you over infront of him on his desk, your heart jumps as you realize what’s happening but you obediently stay bent forward and arching your ass out of instinct so that it was on full display seeing the outline of your thong through your leggings.
Valentino’s breath is heavy as he stares at you bent over and so vulnerable infront of him. He strokes your rabbit tail with the tips of his fingers, caressing it making you whimper out to how sensitive it was to his touch. Making you embarrassingly wet within seconds.
Almost like he sensed this he swiftly tugged both your thong and your leggings off wasting no time as the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy made you whine.
“Shit your perfect for this industry baby~” He hums as his body weight seems to shift behind you as it sounded like he was grabbing for something..
Valentino held a cam recorder in one hand, as the others clung to your hips rather tightly as he roughly started pounding into you. Cock bullying your pussy with its big size as he barely gave you time to adjust making you cry out pitifully.
“Fuckkkk….you’re so tight.” He groans aiming the camera down at your entrance showing how much he was stretching you out as he used another hand to grab a handful of your plush behind to help guide himself in.
“Look it how well you’re taking it baby bunnni~ like a true fucking slut….mhmph fuck i’m gonna make you a star!~” Val growls behind you as his pace starts to pick up and becomes more aggressive.
Suddenly you feel him yank your head back by your bunny ears, causing a squeak to pass by your lips because of the sensation it admitted making you arch your back more into him, hitting a certain spot you didn’t know he could that made you immediately see stars.
Pointing the camera down toward your face, Val shows your already fucked out expression with your eyes all hazy with tears spilling down your cheeks and a filthy pout playing at your lips. You felt like your fragile body could barley take anymore of this torment and as if to make matters worse a hand went to play with your sensitive tail again making you clamp down on him with your thighs trembling.
“Ngh!! Valentino!”
The camera practically is shoved in your face as if to get the winning glamour shot as you come undone all over his cock. Though he doesn’t stop there as he tries to reach his own release, thrusting deeper and faster into you until he eventually cums too with an exasperated sigh.
The mixture of your juices practically pours out of you as Val pulls out and is more focused on the film that he just made, taking the hard drive out of the camera and shoving it in his coat pocket.
“You’re a natural…expect to be here by tomorrow morning and don’t be late..”
Valentino leaves you to clean your own mess without another word and didn’t even bother to mention what he’d do with that tape now that he had it. You just watched as your now boss put his coat back on and went into the atmosphere of the club once more.
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months
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Charles jealous and possessive please! Smut 🔥
no mercy.
CL x fem!reader - 4k celebration ✨
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in which lunch with friends turns into charles reminding you that you’re all his
first 4k request up! thank you so much for this, wrote this whole thing in like half an hour bc damn this took me back to my charlie roots. i hope u love this anon, and all my lovely readers - lemme know what you think
warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, swearing, slight breeding kink, use of “slut” (in the sexy way tho!), lando causing his usual chaos (feat. shit stirrer alex), dom!charles/sub!reader, minor hints of corruption kink, slapping like once, fluffy ending
1.4k words
interesting.
the word you’d choose to describe this lunch is interesting.
charles’ hand seems to grow tighter on your thigh with every passing minute, or, to be more precise, every time lando speaks.
“so am i, ahem, are we gonna be seeing you at any races soon?” lando teases, raising an eyebrow, gesturing to alex sat beside him to cover up his slip of the tongue.
“i’ll be there whenever charles wants me there. maybe i’ll even get to see you win a race.” you laugh. you’re enjoying the company, but the impromptu lunch with the other two drivers seems to be riling your boyfriend up to new heights.
you know the brit is teasing him, and alex is lapping up the drama, stirring the pot. you certainly don’t mind if it keeps charles’ hand wandering higher up your leg. you’re just being polite, lando knows that, charles definitely knows that, but his tight smile and clenched jaw paints a different picture.
“i think we need to get going.” charles pipes up suddenly, after what feels like an eternity of silence from the monegasque man, and he throws a few hundred euros down of the table. “see you in bahrain.” he glares at lando pointedly, and extends his hand to you.
you take it, grinning apologetically at lando and alex, who both wear the same shit-eating grins. they know exactly what they’ve done and they’re lapping up the visible irritation they’ve concocted in their friend.
charles opens your door when you reach his ferrari, silently closing it and walking around to the drivers side.

“not a word.” he grunts.
his hand slips into your panties as he starts the car, and your head tips back against the headrest.
-
he throws you onto the bed, no mercy, nothing forgiving behind his rage filled eyes. you wriggle up onto your elbows, watching the way his shirt sleeves are haphazardly rolled up, the way his hands rub together. your thighs clench. his jaw is ticking, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind, ideas brewing.
there’s no warning before pounces, shoving your floral dress up your thighs. he’s met with white lace, intricately textured, gone sheer with your arousal from the way he’d toyed with you in the car, and he sighs deeply, pained.
“this is what you wear out under this slutty fucking dress?” charles glares down at you, yanking at the fabric. the band snaps back against your belly and you gulp, hard. “nothing to say?” he tuts. “you didn’t seem to have a problem talking to my friends.”
“wore it for you, promise.” you whisper, eyes wide, pupils blown. charles scoffs.
“did you really? because it seems like you’ve forgotten who you fucking belong to.”
you don’t get a chance to reply because you’re stunned into silence when a tear sounds from between your thighs. you see a flash of white when he discards your underwear, throwing them to the floor. charles forces your legs apart, settling onto his belly as if he wants to examine you.
“still soaked.” he hums, impressed. “question is, cherie, for who?” he tilts his head condescendingly and your squirm.
as if to torture you, his nimble fingers trace your folds, spreading the wetness he’s created. you buck your hips at the pressure, it’s not nearly enough, and a low whine sounds from the back of your throat.
“all for you, baby.” you promise. “please, charlie.” you beg.
“is my precious girl getting desperate? hm?” he finds your clit, circling it with the pad of his calloused thumb. you nod profusely, and he’s obsessed with your compliance. “now you know how i felt watching him want you.” he spits.
charles plunges two fingers inside of you suddenly, and you cry out, grinding your hips to his rhythm. the stretch is so delicious that you barely register the burn, not that it matters with the way he’s slicked you up already.
“baby, ‘m all yours.” you’re getting desperate now, pleading with your eyes as much as you can between squeezing them shut every time your tummy tightens.
“i’m not so sure, think you need reminding still.” charles smirks, and his pace increases tenfold.
all you can hear is the wet slap of his fingers slamming into your pussy, his other hand teasing at your clit, just barely touching it. it riles you up endlessly, and your belly aches from how tight you’re clamping down around his hand.
“wanna cum.” you slur, dizzy from the shockwaves washing over you.
“ask nicely.” charles quips sternly, slapping your thigh. it sends a jolt through you and you can’t help it, spilling around his long digits.
you expect him to stop, to punish you for disobeying him, but he fucks you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s grinning when you manage to open your eyes.
“so that’s how you’re gonna be, hm? you wanna act like a slut, cherie? because believe me, i’ll treat you like one.” he speaks concisely, slowly, his voice low and threatening.
he points to your dress. “off. now.”
you scramble to peel it off, throwing it off of the bed, and your bra follows suit. you lay there bare, studying him. if you didn’t know him, love him, you’d think he’s his normal self, but you can see the way he’s digging his nails into his palm, can see the way his neck is flushed red. he unclenches his hands to undo his jeans, just enough so that his cock is on display, red and aggressively hard. you wonder how long he’s been like that.
charles kneels at the end of the bed, shifting until he’s hovering over you. the head of his cock nudges your clit, spreading the remnants of your orgasm over himself and your cunt, watching the way it flutters at the pressure. and then he’s sinking in, slow, deep. he’s heavy on top of you and you revel in the weight of him, his scent.
he grins when he bottoms out, letting out a low groan. he stills for a moment, looks at you, brushes a few strands of hair away from your pink flushed face.
“apologise.” charles coos, mockingly. your eyes well with tears, so much pressure swelling in your belly.
“charles.” you whimper, attempting to thread your fingers through his hair, but he catches your hand, sweeping up the other, and pins both of your wrists above your head.
“apologise.”
and you can’t help but ramble pathetically.
“i’m sorry, charlie, love you so much, ‘m so sorry.”
the feeling of his hips hitting yours is like water in the desert: luxurious, essential. the pace he sets is brutal, utterly fantastic, a stark contrast to anything he’s ever given to you before.
this entire experience is surreal, he usually dotes, whispers lovingly into your ear as he gently coaxes orgasms out of you. this could not be anymore different.
the power he exudes, fully clothed, rocking into your quivering, naked body turns you on endlessly, unlocking a part of yourself that you’d never let anyone else see before.
“you like it better like this, don’t you, cherie? when i fuck you hard like this?” you nod frantically. “pretending to be the sweetest little angel when really, you’re nothing but a dirty fucking girl, letting him gawk at you. bet you loved it, all that attention.” charles grunts.
you arch into him, the elastic band in your core growing that bit too tight.
“maybe i need to fuck a baby into you, make sure everyone knows you’re all mine.” he whispers.
that’s all it takes. you reach your high instantly, spurred on by the filth he spouts. the tight, hot hold you have on him makes him see stars, and then he’s cumming, too, spilling warm and white into you.
it’s quiet for a moment, the air still, the smell of sex settling over the space. you relax into the bed, and gently, he pulls out of you. he smiles softly, fingers grazing your sweat dampened face. he unbuttons his shirt as he walks to the en-suite, returning to you shirtless and with a warm, damp cloth.
you smile sleepily as he cleans you up, wiping away the mess he’s made between your legs - as best as he can, anyways - and then he strips off his jeans, and clambers into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms so that your back is flush to his chest.
“was that okay?” he asks quietly. you roll over in his arms, raising your head to peck his jaw.
“more than okay.”
“i didn’t take it too far?”
“baby, it was perfect.” you giggle.
“you know i’m not mad at you, right? but i swear, if lando ever looks at you like that again, he won’t be having kids.”
-
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nereidprinc3ss · 25 days
Text
do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
part one | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise. 
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?”
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 
“Not right now,” he agrees. 
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff. 
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair. 
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess. 
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff. 
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod. 
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 
Thankfully, he delivers. 
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit. 
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core. 
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
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sixosix · 8 months
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kissing lyney awake doesn’t really work. wc 600. fluff, established relationship, more lyney content bc i need him to come home im so desperate its not funny
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lyney sleeping is the only moment you see him at ease. he portrays a convincing act—laid-back, too friendly, performatively elegant, and it’s these that help you forget lyney is nothing like that at all on quiet days.
seeing him breathe slowly, eyes shut, and body language openly comfortable, makes your chest grow inexplicably warm.
there are no curtains. no cards, doves, or leather gloves. just you, him, and the bed with your legs tangled. you’re unable to help yourself, placing a delicate kiss on the apple of his cheek. it’s barely there: just a faint brush of your lips.
so it’s your surprise when lyney’s eyes fly open and a hand reaches for the back of your head before you can pull back.
“did i wake you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
lyney opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a quiet, hoarse groan.
“sorry,” you laugh gently, cupping his face.
“mm… no, don’t be,” lyney says, his eyes threatening to flutter shut from their sluggish weight. the consonants don’t form perfectly in his state. “it seems as… as if even in sleep my body reacts to your kisses eagerly.”
“you sure? it seems like your body seemed rather alarmed, actually.”
lyney smiles tiredly, that alone expressing more than his words could ever try. “if i were alarmed, i would’ve pushed you away. couldn’t you tell that i’m…” his eyes wander down. he makes an indecipherable noise.
“are you going to wake me up like that every morning?” he asks with a slow smirk.
“you told me to wake you up around this time to prepare,” you say, covering your mouth, much to his displeasure. “focus on the clock, not my lips.”
lyney almost whines, like the drama queen he is.
“up, lyney. and let go of my head.”
“no.” he pushes you closer, but his mouth only collides with the back of your fingers. “the cruelty. you’re heartless. kicking a man when he’s down—does this make you happy? do you derive pleasure from making a pleading fool out of this great, renowned magician?”
you successfully slip out of his grasp. he ends up clawing at air. “if you have the energy to complain needlessly, you have the energy to get up.”
lyney sighs heavily. he pulls himself up and pouts at you, like you’ve kicked a stray puppy in front of his eyes. he might be the stray puppy in question.
“if you can kiss me awake, you can also kiss me to stand up.” he yawns halfway through the sentence.
“we won’t get much done if you get your hands near me.”
instead of grinning smugly like you expect him to, lyney’s eyes crinkle alone with his soft smile. he pulls you in by your hips, pressing his forehead against yours and breathing deeply.
“hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, brushing a cheek as his eyes fall shut once again. it doesn’t take even a second before he melts back into the sheets. “you’re still tired, huh? good job performing yesterday. must’ve been exhausting. you can sleep for five more minutes.”
“mmh,” is what he replies with, pawing your waist to ask for something.
you kiss his nose, and his smile widens just a fraction—just enough of what his lax body can do. he later reveals that it was all a trick to make you kiss him awake all over again, but you know him a little better than that.
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a/n ok anyway THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE LYNEY LIKERS im glad u all like reading for lyney as much as i do writing for him
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augustinewrites · 7 months
Note
augustine!!! forgive me if this is alr something u wrote in kuwtf but!! i just had a thought come to me !!! did megumi (when he was younger) ever message/text/call reader (or gojo… but i doubt 😭😭) to come and pick him up in the middle of smth he’s rlly not enjoying? like !! him being all hesitant and shy abt it !!! but he’s like “can you pick me up… please” or “… i want to go home” 🥺🥺🥺
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“okay, while the kids are with you, you’re the new me. strict, but fair. fun, but still careful—”
“ugh, that sounds so boring,” shoko groans. “i prefer being the cool aunt who looks like she could be their sister.”
“uh oh, it sounds like someone’s already raided our liquor cabinet,” gojo teases, sauntering into the kitchen to steal some of the snacks you’re laying out. “maybe we should have nanami babysit shoko babysitting our kids.”
you bat his hands away, rolling your eyes as he pouts. “that’s not necessary, i believe in her.”
“so…you’re saying i didn’t hear you call nanami first?”
“go get changed,” you mutter, ignoring his question and shoving him back towards the bedroom. he goes, but not without placing a big wet kiss on your cheek first.
megumi, who’d been coming in to find a snack, makes an affronted noise.
shoko throws her arm around him, ruffling his hair. “don’t worry about us! i got your very lengthy text message with all the instructions,” she assures you, waving her phone in front of you. “in bed by nine at the latest, no watching sex and the city, and no ending up in the hospital, prison, or the news.”
“yes. by the way, i ordered some pizza for dinner and  left some money so you can take them out for breakfast tomorrow, but please please keep an eye on megumi,” you remind her, swiping the crumbs off your hands and leaning your hip against the counter. “he likes to wander and has a problem with authority.”
“i don’t have a problem with authority,” the boy huffs, ducking out from under shoko’s arm. 
“ohhhh, but you do,” gojo chimes in, coming out of the bedroom dressed up in a nice shirt and tie. you slip your arm through his when he offers, letting him lead you toward the door. 
“have fun!” you call as satoru kneels to help you slip your heels on. 
“not as much fun as you guys will!” shoko calls back. it’s followed by, “say, megumi, have you ever smoked a cigarette before?” 
“ieiri!”
“kidding! you’re so gullible.” 
_____
“a hotel room with one bed!” you gasp, in awe of the king-sized bed sitting in the center of the room. you seat yourself atop of the luxurious sheets, the silk smooth under your palms. “i forgot what this was like!”
gojo sets both your bags down, smiling. “do you want to order some room service? we could order a nice bottle of champagne, eat some dessert—”
you hum, uncrossing your legs slowly. “i can think of something else you can eat…”
you reach up to grab his tie and tug him closer—
—only for it to come off entirely. 
“a clip on tie, satoru? really?” 
his cheeks blush a cute, rosy pink. “they’re really hard to tie if you’re not around to help me!”
you toss it to the side, laughing as he pulls you into his arms, aggressively planting kisses all over your face. he walks you back until you both fall onto the bed, his fingers crawling up the hem of your shirt.
“wait, is that my phone vibrating?”
_____
“what if she’s the one, tsumiki?” you hear shoko sigh, exasperated. 
“like your one true love?”
“yeah! what’s happening to me? i don’t even believe in that stuff.”
you and gojo exchange an amused look. no wonder megumi had texted. 
“have you told utahime any of this?” your wise-beyond-her-years 13 year old asks.
“what? why would i do that?”
“if you don’t tell her how you feel, you’ll both regret it for the rest of your life!”
“utahime and shoko?” gojo whispers. “since when?”
you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest. “since always! you seriously never noticed? she had the biggest crush on her when we were in school.”
“i think i was just too busy looking at you.” 
you can’t help the way you smile at that, your heart a butterfly beat in your chest  “you need to stop, because we’re here to save megumi and if you keep sweet talking me…”
he tucks himself snugly against your back, setting his chin into the crook of your neck. “i’m more of a hands-on learner, so maybe if you show me what’ll happen—”
“finally,” megumi sighs, relieved. 
“whoa,” gojo stops him, tugging on the handle of the backpack over megumi’s shoulder’s. “what’s this for?”
_____
the backpack was for exactly what gojo feared. megumi sleeps soundly between you both in that gorgeous king-sized bed. 
“is this what the rest of our lives are gonna look like?” he asks, fingertips brushing your forehead.
“better get used to abstinence, pal.”
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sunghoonbite · 2 months
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pairings: heeseung/jay/jake x reader
warnings/content: nsfw, first time sex, valentine’s day! mutual pining, foreplay, i kinda edged u all on this one i’m sorry if u need a part 2 i understand
minors dni, before reading
hi happy valentine’s day!! it’s just these 3 bc i didn’t have the time to write for sunoo tonight, but i totally can add him at some point if you guys want it. hope u enjoy :o
you wore lace lingerie to heeseung’s dorm to tease him, his t-shirt that he gave you some weeks ago thrown overtop of it, your legs hidden by comfy sweatpants.
you had gone out earlier today for valentine’s day, to the mall and out to eat. but you wanted more than that. you called him up and let him know you’d be over to spend the night, and of course he immediately accepted your invitation.
heeseung wanted more too. when you drove to the restaurant, your sephora bags from the mall sitting on the floor of his car, you sat in the passenger seat, silently looking out the window. he’d look over at you once he got to a stoplight, and his eyes trailed down to your thighs every time. the weather was nice and you wore a skirt for him.
silently, he cursed himself. why did he want to touch you so badly? you sat innocently next to him, legs crossed, but the only thought on his mind was the sounds you’d make as you made a mess over his car. would you whine his name? grab his hand as he fucked your cunt?
when you got to his dorm, he looked you up and down, infatuated, although you were dressed messily in his shirt. you leaned in once inside and your lips met.
“take my top off,” you whispered against his mouth, and his hands trailed up your back. you felt his lips curl upwards.
he obliged, shirt falling to his carpeted floor, and he blinked at the lace bralette that just barely covered your chest up.
“can you fuck me, heeseung?”
once your words spilled out of your mouth, he had you pressed into his bed within seconds.
jay took you out to eat on valentine’s day. you had spent the night before, not unusual for the two of you, and while drifting off to sleep you mumbled some barely coherent words about what restaurant you wanted to be taken to. so, gladly, he surprised you the next evening. “surprise” being a loose term, since he quite literally will do whatever you ask. taking you out to eat is a minuscule task.
you got ready in his bathroom, and stepped out in a silk, short black dress. his eyes wandered instantly, your curves evident as the fabric hugged your body, but he looked away after getting a good glance. jay was typically short with his compliments, not at all meaning that he disliked your appearance whatsoever, but he felt almost intimidated by your beauty, and feared if he spoke too much about what you looked like or wore that it would become uncomfortable.
so, he uttered softly, “you look good.”
when you got to the restaurant, though, he wasn’t able to look away, despite his efforts. you were seated across from him, and you were both yet to order. your eyes scanned the menu, unaware of his scanning your body, and you pressed your lips together as you thought about what to order. you looked up at him, ready to ask his opinion, and he was already staring at you.
“is something wrong?” you questioned.
“you look amazing,” he stated your name after his sentence.
you beamed, face beginning to flush, and you looked up as you brushed his comment off.
“thank you!” you smiled, fully aware jay’s words are always genuine.
he spoke your name again, pausing afterwards. you looked at him.
“how about we go in the car?” his voice was low.
you waited a moment, trying to understand his request, but tilted your head slightly once he didn’t elaborate.
“why? what’s wrong?”
quietly, he leaned in and replied, “i want to fuck you in the parking lot.”
his words were unusually bold for him. your mouth opened as you looked around, searching for if someone heard him.
“would that be okay?” he asked, before you had the possibility to answer, “it’s okay if you want to wait for another time.”
you took your purse that rested on the table, and began to sit up out of your chair.
“i want to,” you said quietly, “fuck me in the parking lot.”
so he did.
you and jake stayed in for the holiday. you both planned this ahead, so he surprised you. he bought you chocolates and flowers, and placed them in gift box of your favorite things. you spent the day together, captivated with one another’s presence.
now, though, it was getting late, and you sat together on his couch. you started the third movie of the night, snacks from earlier scattered over the table in front of you. his arm was around your waist, and your head rested on his shoulder to accompany your body that was curled up on his side. you were close, so close.
for some reason, your body started to heat up. his touch against you was nice, but you wanted more from him. you wanted jake on your skin. you wanted him to touch you more. lower. deeper.
you shifted, hoping to release some tension as you tried to inch closer to him. it wasn’t possible, you were already nearly connected to him, your clothes the only thing separating you. it was agonizing, you wanted to feel him.
you lifted your head up to get a better look at his face that was fixated on the screen. when he felt the warmth leave his shoulder, he turned to you. you kissed him once he did, his mouth meeting yours.
once the kiss broke, you moved closer, sitting on his lap now, straddling his thigh.
“what’re you doing baby?” he asked, mouth curled up into what you made out to be a sheepish grin.
you leaned in to kiss his neck.
“i need you,” you mumbled against his skin.
his hands wandered down and held onto your waist firmly.
“yeah? need me how?”
you lifted your head up once again and a sigh escaped your lips, you turned your head to the side.
“jake, i want you to fuck me,” you said, cursing yourself mentally for letting yourself say it so boldly, so desperately.
“all of a sudden?” he asked, but not complaining, completing his sentence with a small laugh.
“it’s okay if you don’t want to,” you added.
“no, no,” he replied, “i want to.”
as he said that, he lifted your top above your head to start undressing you. he pressed his palms against your waist and laid you down on the couch gently.
“fuck,” he muttered under his breath at the sight of you, “you’re gonna look so pretty on my dick.”
you did, if you could call your mascara running pretty.
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cheolhub · 1 year
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LOVE SCENE — LEE SEOKMIN ࿐
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summary. you’re scared that seokmin might want to go separate ways after graduation, but he proves, in more ways than one, that he wants you. forever.
wc. 2.3k
warnings. college au. nerdy soft dom!seokmin, breeding kink xx, obscene amounts of dirty talk, pinch of angst, literal love making, unprotected sex, marriage kink, HEAVY praise, baby talk, v minimal plot im sorry — MINORS DNI 18+
note. DAMN ok i have a lot to say so i’ll keep it short. ONE this was a request but like i kinda didn’t do anything the request asked for and im so sorry, i hope u can forgive me anon. TWO i literally lost sight of the plot so dont ask me abt any missing details ehehb just enjoy seok being hot <3 THREE happy belated birthday to my minnie <3 FOUR thank u to my luvr @rkiv4d for beta-ing. yas ok enjoy
p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts <3
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how seokmin pulled you, the most beautiful girl to ever walk the earth, he has no clue. he’s what people call a ‘nerd’ with his thick-rimmed glasses and his abnormally high IQ and you’re the pretty girl that didn’t understand the simplicity of covalent and ionic bonds who fell head over heels for him. 
you couldn’t help it, he was so smart and so fucking pretty. he was awkward and he giggled when he got nervous and he was so unbelievably goofy that it had you laughing till you cried. nevertheless, he was the most beautiful man ever. 
then you asked him out. he remembers it like it was yesterday. the last day of your chem class– the end of the first semester of your sophomore year– right after your final. you thanked him incessantly, giving him a hug for helping you get a B in the class. you told him you’d rather thank him another way— another way being a date. with you. at your place with a homemade dinner. 
he would’ve been stupid to decline. so he didn’t. and the rest was history. seokmin became your boyfriend, grew more confident in himself, and fell in love with you.
now you’re in your final year, the last few weeks approaching quickly, and you’ve been anxious. anxious about seokmin leaving you, anxious about going separate ways after graduation, anxious that this was all just fun and games till it was time to get serious about life.
seokmin has picked up on your behavioral patterns over the past 2 years. he knows you so well, probably better than anyone else in your life– probably better than he knows himself. 
so when seokmin sees you evading his eyes with his cock stretching you open, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
“hey,” he whispers, stilling inside of you. when you don’t turn your head and your eyes are still closed, he calls for you. “baby?”
you feel your heart clench at the pet name. “hmm?” you hum.
“baby, do you not wanna do this anymore?” he questions worriedly, ready to pull away from you. “i can pull out.”
you mumble, “i-i do.” 
he cocks his head even more confused, “talk to me, pretty, what’s going on?”
he pushes into you some more, making you gasp and you can feel his expectant eyes burning holes into your face. you then realize he’s not gonna let this go, but it’s partially your fault for letting your mind wander while he was putting away the dinner you guys ate. you decide to just come out with it.
“‘m just… so scared of graduating…” you whimper between your words, eyes screwing tighter. 
he hums, “look at me, baby.” the demand comes out so soft, yet the sheer dominance of his voice makes you clench around him. you turn your head on the pillow, opening your eyes, and finally looking at him. “why?”
you shudder at the eye contact. he looks so pretty, so concerned over you, yet you’re still tense and oh-so nervous. the topic of post-grad has never come up, and now you’re mid-fuck about to tell him how you want to be with him forever. 
“i-i’m scared that… that you’re gonna go off without me,” you pant, hands wrapping around his biceps and holding him to keep you stable. 
“where am i gonna go, beautiful?” he whispers, bottoming out and fully sheathing himself inside of you. 
you whimper again, his massive cock filling you so well. “s-scared you’re gonna go do big things ‘n leave me…” 
he freezes at that, eyes widening, “leave you?” he asks incredulously as if he couldn’t believe that you’d ask that question. “baby, you think i’d leave you?” 
you nod slowly. “i dunno, ‘s just that i’ve been thinking ‘n you’re so smart– gonna go get a real job that’s across the country or something…” 
he’s honestly bewildered. why would you ever think something like that when he’s tried so hard to show you how much he loves you every single day?
“oh, baby, i would never fucking leave you.” he presses his forehead yours, nose rubbing against yours. “pretty fucking thing, i adore you— love you. more than anything.”
your eyes glisten with tears at the reassurance. you feel yourself relax under him, entirely fluttering at his words. “really?”
“yes, really. how can i prove it to you? want me to put a ring on your finger?” he whispers, breath fanning against your face. 
you gasp, clenching around him again, fingers digging into his muscles. he smiles, chuckling airly at your reaction. 
“my pretty baby wants that? you like that idea?” he asks, his sultry voice filling your ears. “you wanna be my wife?”
you nod your head, eyes fluttering shut as you moan, “yeah, w-wanna be your wife.” 
your response has seokmin reeling. he pulls his hips back and slams back into you making both of you moan again. 
“yeah? bet you want my kids, too.” he states boldly, mind cringing at his words and internally freaking out that you’ll get turned off at them. 
you choke, clamping tightly around his length. “f-fuck.” you cry. “d-don’t say things like that, seok.”
“why? ‘cuz i’m right?” he grunts, thrusts growing faster.
you nod your head and seokmin nearly cries, cock twitching at the idea of pumping you full of cum and getting you pregnant with his kids. you’d be such a great mom and he’d love having a mini-seok running around a nice, big house fit to take a family. 
admittedly, he’s been wanting to talk about his future with you. he’s been fantasizing about it since the first time he said he loved you. fantasizing about you being his wife and living together in a big house and having three kids and living happily ever after as if it were some fairytale. he’s imagined your kids and how they would be a constant reminder of his everlasting love for you. he hopes that they’ll look like both of you– kids with your eyes and his nose. he’d kill for that.
“wanna put a baby in you,” he mumbles, lips ghosting over yours. “swear to god, ‘m gonna give you everything you want– ‘ll get you a ring ‘n a house– everything. just say the word.”
you lift your head to press your lips to his, moaning into his mouth like a mad woman. your stomach drops in anticipation, suddenly craving the feeling of his warm cum filling you to the brim, sure to get you pregnant. your legs wrap around him, heels digging into his back and you can’t resist the cry that he ends up swallowing at the new angle. 
seokmin pulls back, panting, “gonna let me give it to you, baby?” 
“uh-huh!” you nod, eyes screwing shut and jaw going slack as his speed increases. “yes, yes, please give it to me.” your response is wavered as you nearly choke on a sob of pleasure. 
and you know the decision is haste– a baby even though you still have a month left of undergrad seems… absurd to say the very least, but you don’t need to think about anything. you know seokmin. you know he’s the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. he's an amazing boyfriend and person in general. you already know he’d make an even more amazing husband and father. 
who would’ve thought the nerdy man with glasses who was insanely good at chemistry would be the one you ended up with?
he lets out a guttural moan, “such a good girl, always saying please.” he praises, slamming into your sweet spot repeatedly.
and jesus fucking christ, your moans and cries are like music to his fucking ears. 
his head falls into your neck, licking and sucking at your skin. “never gonna leave, i promise. gonna make you mine, gonna take care of you.” he mumbles into the skin as he continues to mark and ravage you. 
the stimulation and his words are sending you into orbit as your stomach churns and tightens at the feeling of his cock rearranging your insides. his strokes are impressive, never missing a beat and unrelentingly hitting the spot that makes you crumble. 
he feels you tighten around him, gummy walls squeezing him in and he curses, “shit, is my pretty girl gonna cum already?” his voice borders on condescending, but it only makes the tightrope in your stomach all the more closer to completely unraveling. 
“y-yeah, so close,” you moan breathily as your pants increase, chest rising and falling rapidly. “so fuckin’ close, min, ‘m gonna cum.”
his lips find your ear and he whispers hotly against the shell, “come on, baby, cum for me so i can fill you up.” he gently tugs at your earlobe with his teeth and you can’t resist, back arching with a shiver running down your spine.
your orgasm brings you immense pleasure, white spots filling your vision as you cum with a loud sob. you feel it in your entire body, from your curled toes to your thrown back head. your eyes roll back, calling out his name and raking your nails down the skin of his arms. 
he coos, holding back a groan at the way you get even tighter as you soak him in arousal. “thaaat’s it, baby, just like that. so, so good for me.” he coaxes you through your euphoric high, fucking you through it as he always does. 
“s-so good,” you slur, parroting his words as your mind numbs a bit. 
he moans, letting the sound of your whimpers and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room. he buries his head in your neck again, desperately rutting into you so he can let go, too. your eyes flutter closed again and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you. 
your overstimulated pussy pulses around him as you listen and whine along to your lover's muffled moans. you can tell he’s close. so close to giving you the life you’ve imagined for almost 2 years. so close to being yours forever. 
“seok, cum inside me,” you whisper and his hips stutter, yet they keep moving as if they have a mind of their own. he lifts his head and looks at you– his eyes are clouded over and teary, yet they’re filled with all the love in the world.
he looks so beautiful above you. his face is scrunched up in pleasure, brows knitted, eyes droopy, mouth hung open as pretty sounds exit his loose lips.
“i… fucking love you…so much.” he says in between pants, thrusts growing sloppy. the telltale signs of his fast approaching orgasm becoming heavily apparent. “god, so much, baby, love you so much.”
you nod your head, mirroring his pleasured face. “me too, seok, i love you.” your words are a bit scrambled, but seokmin makes sense of them– understands you so well. 
his eyes roll back a bit at your response, brain momentarily malfunctioning, but he comes back seconds later. “gonna take this load like a good girl, right, pretty? gonna get pregnant and let me marry you?” he moans out breathily, cock now twitching uncontrollably. 
“yes, yes, yes, please, wan’ it so bad!” you beg.
it’s all he needs to press his hips to yours, stilling there, and releasing inside of you while he moans out your name so prettily. it’s a newfound feeling for both of you– his cum coating your cunt, filling you up till it’s spilling on his freshly washed sheets. he’s grown accustomed to finishing on your skin or into a condom, but this? this is all very new. this is something he now can’t live without.
you think the same thing when you feel him spraying your walls with his thick ropes of cum. it feels so good– so euphoric– while it’s leaking out of you. you don’t know how you’ve gone your entire adult life without experiencing this at least once.  
“c-came so much, baby…” you whimper, feeling him pull his cock out of you. 
as soon as he sees his release dripping out of you, he groans softly, already feeling hard again, but he decides to ignore it for now, bringing his attention back to you.
“hey… love,” he says softly, noticing the way you perk up a bit from your tired state just at the sound of your name. “you should’ve told me you felt like that… i hate that you thought i’d just leave you ‘cause we won’t be in school anymore.”
you frown, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward… it’s the real world and i dunno… things are different.”
he sighs, hands running up and down your naked sides. “i get it, but like i said, i wanna be with you forever.”
you blush, biting your lip to hide the wide grin that ends up on your face despite the fact. “yeah, i remember… was that a proposal by the way?” you ask meekly. 
he squeezes at your waist, “did you want it to be?” he beams.
“i mean, it was a bit untraditional, definitely not how i expected my wedding proposal to be.” 
“what? you mean you didn’t think you’d get proposed to while i had my dick inside you?” he asks with faux incredulity. “i, for one, thought this was the best proposal ever. i even put a lil baby in you.”
you giggle, wrapping your legs around his body again, “you don’t know that, i’m not pregnant… yet.”
his heart swells at the idea and he smiles brightly at your blushy face, “well, maybe another round can change that, hmm?”
you pull him closer to you by the strength of your legs and say, “make me yours then, seokmin.”
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wlntrsldler · 1 month
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poisoned mercury | check yes, juliet
a/n: poisoned mercury is officially over halfway finished! i'll be posting poisoned mercury playlists soon! pls continue to send me songs that remind you of this series. i'm running out of songs to use as titles. thank u for all the love on this fic &lt;3
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series masterlist | previous | next
vi. check yes, juliet by we the kings
“where are we going?” 
“are you going to ask that every two seconds?” 
“you kidnapped me, castellan.” 
luke stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at you. you were about a quarter mile away from camp now, and it seemed like every ten steps, you asked him the same question. if he didn’t find you so cute, he would turn around and walk straight back to camp. 
“i will throw you over my shoulder and carry you the rest of the way there, five star,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes teasingly. he wasn’t opposed to the idea, but by the look on your face, you certainly were. “don’t test me.” 
“and i will scream bloody murder if you do,” you narrowed your eyes at him in a challenging manner. 
“here i am, trying to do something nice for you and you accuse me of kidnapping you,” luke continued his steps, slowing down to let you catch up to him. he didn’t realize how much shorter you were than him. the top of your head just went past his shoulders, but your personality made up for the difference. “we’re almost there, keep up.” 
“not everyone has long legs, castellan,” you huffed, increasing your pace. “slow down.” 
“do you want to get there or not?” he asked, throwing you a teasing smile over his shoulder. you guys really needed to get there soon. the sun was beginning to set and he didn’t want you to have to walk in the dark, even if he was with you. your safety came first, above everything, and he wasn’t gonna put you in a potentially dangerous situation. 
you whined, tugging on the side of his t-shirt, “how much longer?” 
“that’s it,” luke declared, squatting down to throw you over his shoulder. you squealed, hitting his back with your balled up fists. he knew you didn’t do it to hurt him. he can feel you pulling your punches. 
you felt the vibrations from his laughter on his back. luke was enjoying this too much. he carried you over his shoulder like it was nothing. perhaps all those morning workouts were paying off. you twisted your neck to scold him, thankful that he couldn’t see the smile on your lips, “put me down, i swear to god.” 
“nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p.’ he tapped your calf with his fingers, “it’s just around the corner.” 
luke put you down in front of a building. there were five store fronts, three of which had faulty neon lights. you could barely make out the store names. the other two stores had signs up declaring vacancy. it was a little sketchy, but luke seemed to love it. he had his hands on his hips, staring up at the sign that seemed to say “achilles arcade.” 
“what is this place?” luke held the door open for you as you wandered inside the store. the place was dimly lit with old-school arcade games lining the walls. an old man was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading the morning paper. 
“just wait,” luke grinned, pulling on your hand to lead you to get some tokens, “chiron! my man.” 
the man placed the newspaper on the surface, eyes lighting up at the sound of luke’s voice. he beamed, “luke castellan! i was afraid you weren’t gonna come back.” 
“you know i keep my promises,” luke let go of your hand, introducing you to chiron, “chiron, this is yn. she goes to camp with me.” 
“pleasure to meet you,” he tipped his head, reaching under the counter to dig out a bucket full of golden tokens. 
you took out your wallet, “how much do we owe you?” 
“on the house,” he waved off, “he donated a ridiculous sum of money to keep this place up and running. too generous, this one, so it wouldn’t be right for me to charge you when he’s keeping me in business.” 
luke shook his head, sliding a hundred across the counter anyway. he took your wallet and stuffed it in his back pocket, knowing that you’ll probably try to slip him some cash if he didn’t. you grumbled, but decided not to pick a fight. it didn’t seem like one you’d win. 
luke grabbed the bucket by the handle and turned to you, “where do you want to start, five star?” 
“you took me to an arcade?” 
“yeah,” luke said, sheepishly, “whenever i run out of cigs, i always go to an arcade to keep my mind off things. it’s childish, but it works. figured you could try it. plus, there’s a smoke shop across the street so we can go there when we’re done here.” 
“only one thing is better than the feeling of a new cherry ice vape,” you got close to him, nearly toe to toe. luke could smell the perfume on your skin, the scent of your shampoo, and his cologne that lingered on the hoodie of his that you wore. he reminded you that you always got cold and that you should bring a sweater, but you assured him that you wouldn’t. halfway to the arcade, you were shivering and luke knew that he made the right decision bringing his hoodie with him. 
you rolled your eyes, but accepted it. his hoodie stopped mid-thigh and engulfed you, but it looked better on you than it ever did on him. something about you wearing a hoodie that had his band name on it made his heart skip a beat. he had to listen to you make fun of him for tripping over air after he saw you in his clothes, but he didn’t expect anything less from you. 
he licked his lips, eyes darting to your own, “and what is that, five star?”
“beating your ass at galaga.” 
luke’s laughter echoed throughout the empty arcade as you ran from him with the tokens in your hand. you looked back at him with a mischievous smile on your face and he felt his heartstrings tug in his chest. you stuck your tongue out at him, starting the game as he stayed in his spot, admiring you. 
there weren’t many moments where he could be out in public like this, so when his mom reluctantly agreed to stop at this building on the way to camp due to a flat tire, luke and the boys were ecstatic to find that there was an empty arcade hidden in montauk. luke talked to chiron and learned his story while the boys played random games to kill the time. luke found out that the arcade wasn’t doing well financially with the increase in rent prices and that they would have to close down at the end of the summer if things don’t pick up again. chiron mentioned that he and his partner started this business twenty years ago, and he was sad to see it go. 
luke excused himself and snuck back into the tour bus to grab his checkbook. he wrote a check that covered rent and other expenses for the year and gave it to chiron. of course the man refused it, but luke wasn’t taking no for an answer, not after chiron shared that the arcade was the last living piece of his partner. luke castellan was a hopeless romantic, which not many people knew. he knew he was done for the minute he heard their love story. 
he stood there for a few moments, watching as you cheered, dodging the blasts of your enemies. you were so animated while you played, so expressive with your eyes and your voice. he’d only seen you like this a handful of times, talking to clarisse about god knows what, talking to the younger campers and asking them questions about their projects and interests, and when you asked him about his music. all of your monotoned replies and deadpan looks were all he got for the longest time, it seemed like your nonchalance was only for him, so it was nice to see you like this. it felt like you were warming up to him. 
he thought about the talk the two of you had in your room, how different you’d been then. after being iced out for weeks, luke was a little shocked at how soft you were with him earlier, playing with his rings, holding his hand, talking to him. it was a welcomed surprise, of course, but he expected you to kick him to the curb. he still didn’t understand what actually happened after the concert, but he figured you already had a tough day, so that conversation can wait. 
he made his way to you, leaning across the screen to slightly block your view, “you might be better than me at this game, but your ass is mine at guitar hero.” 
“not fair,” you were focused on the game, eyes glued on the screen in front of you. “you’re in a band. of course you’re gonna be better than me at that.” 
“life’s not fair, five star,” luke poked your side, making you squirm. you died in the game because of it. “my turn, yeah?” 
you shoved his chest, reluctantly moving over. “you cheated.” 
he looked over his shoulder, smirking, “how did i cheat?” 
“you distracted me!” 
“i did not!” he argued, chuckles escaping his lips. his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. his concentration face was annoyingly attractive. 
“did too,” you mumbled, watching over his shoulder to see how he was doing. he was doing really well. damn teenage boys and their affinity for video games. your chin rested comfortably on his shoulder blade as you watched him play. 
luke’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly too aware that you were so close to him. he could feel your breath against the nape of his neck, your lips dangerously close to where his tattoo was. he snuck a glance at you, noting how you were too focused on his score inching closer to your own. 
“ha!” you yelled, pulling away from him. you bumped his hip with yours, moving him out of the way, “my turn.” 
“okay, you cheated.” 
you hit pause on the game, placing your hands on your waist, “how?” 
“you were distracting me! putting your head on my shoulder and shit.” 
“awww,” you cooed, playfulness in your tone, “do i make you nervous?” 
luke’s face flushed. he shook his head, tilting his head down to hide the color on his face. he rubbed the back of his neck, “play your fucking game.” 
you said something about him being a sore loser and cheered loudly when you beat his score. when you both ran out of lives, luke led you to guitar hero and as expected, kicked your ass at the game. the two of you played in the arcade until there was one golden token left in the bottom of the bucket. as you wandered around the room, your eyes landed on a black and white photobooth tucked away in the corner. 
“let’s take some pictures,” you grabbed his hand, leading him over there before he could say no. you shoved him inside the photobooth, tapping his knee to make him stop manspreading on the small bench. 
it could barely fit two people so it was a tight squeeze. you were sitting so close to luke, thighs pressed together as you tapped on the small screen to begin the process. luke could feel the warmth of your skin against his and he was glad that there was no colored photos option because his cheeks were bright red. maybe he can blame the lights making him feel hot if you brought it up, but he wasn’t sure if his voice even worked enough to utter out his excuse. 
“you better smile, castellan,” you threatened, turning to look at him before you inserted the token in the slot. “not that little side smirk shit that you do in all your pictures.” 
“what side smirk?” 
“that thing you do in your pictures!” you shouted, “in every single instagram post, you always do it.” 
luke raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile appearing on his lips, “you’ve stalked my instagram?” 
“not the point,” you ducked, pretending to mess with the settings of the photobooth. luke can see your shy smile on the screen in front of him. “i’m just saying, smile normally.” 
“that’s how i smile, five star! what do you want me to do?” 
“that is not how you smile!” you argued. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you faced him. he was already looking at you, soft eyes and a hint of a smile on his features. a stray curl was out of place on his head and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over to put it back in place. luke held his breath as your fingers grazed the side of his face, taking much longer than you needed to fix his hair. your thumb subconsciously rubbed against the scar on his cheek. luke let his eyes close at the feeling. 
“there,” you whispered, pulling your hand back to your side. “that’s how you smile.” 
he tried his best to keep that same expression on his face to see what you were talking about. he glanced at the screen and found himself stunned at what he found. you were right. this is not how he looked in his instagram pictures. he almost didn’t recognize himself as he stared. he looked different like this. 
there were no creases between his eyebrows or on his forehead, like there was no stress on his shoulders. his eyes looked brighter somehow as if he was at peace, exactly where he needed to be at that moment. his lips were quirked up in a tender smile, parts of his teeth showing between the gap of his top lip and bottom lip. did he always look like this when he was with you? awe-struck and enraptured by your presence? 
he should feel pathetic, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when you were looking at him like you enjoyed this clandestine look on his face, a look that he reserved only for you. he couldn’t feel pathetic when you were looking at him in the same way. a secret language between the two of you, that nobody else in the world could even begin to understand.
the countdown on the screen started and luke was pulled from his thoughts quickly when you pressed your cheek against his, grinning as the timer flashed across the screen. he let himself smile, teeth on full display before the flash went off. the second countdown began and luke watched you fumble around to pick the next pose. you settled on a silly pose, sticking your tongue out as you held up the ‘rock and roll’ sign with your hand. he followed your lead, letting a snicker leave his lips at how fitting the pose was. 
the final photo was uncoordinated. luke wasn’t ready for the flash to go off. you placed your hand on his shoulder, craning your neck to look up at him. if he leaned down an inch or two, his lips would touch yours. the realization had the wires in his brain crossed. when the machine took the picture, luke was staring lovingly into your eyes, a look of indecision on his face. his lips were curled into a bashful smile, the tip of his nose touching yours. 
“five star,” luke breathed out, his arm snaking around your waist. your leg was now placed on top of his own. 
you gulped, nudging his nose with yours, “luke…” 
he’d never heard his name leave your lips before other than when you were mocking the gossips you heard about him. he’d never heard your real voice call him by his name. now that he has, he was addicted to the sound of it. he never liked his name that much, but somehow, when you said it, it sounded like poetry. he never thought a single syllable could sound so beautiful, have his knees buckling at the utterance of it. but with you, he supposed there was always a first for everything. 
when the bright red words stating “your photos are ready!” illuminated the inside of the photobooth, the two of you jumped apart from each other, blushing wildly. luke took a moment for himself inside the photobooth, rubbing his face with his palms, as you walked out to retrieve the pictures. luke followed you after taking a few deep breaths. 
he saw you leaning against the wall, the two strips of pictures in your hand. you had a goofy grin on your face, admiring them. luke sauntered next to you, taking a look at the photos. 
he accepted the strip of photos you handed him, “we probably should’ve discussed our poses beforehand.” 
“i dunno,” you were still staring at the pictures, biting your bottom lip. “i like ‘em.”
luke hummed, taking out his wallet. he folded the strip in threes, slotting the last photo in the clear compartment of his wallet. it looked perfect against the black leather, like it was the last thing needed to make his wallet look complete. he slipped it back in his back pocket, taking yours out to return to you. 
“smoke shop?” he asked. 
“please,” you nodded, beginning to walk out of the arcade. you waved goodbye to chiron who moved onto doing the daily crossword. “bye chiron! great to meet you!” 
he bid the two of you goodbye, a knowing gaze on his face. you were already out the door when he sent luke a wink that had him shaking his head, face turning red at the man’s antics. luke shut the door behind him, ushering you over to the sidewalk towards the smoke shop, “i’m out of cigs too, so this is actually perfect timing.” 
you waited outside the smoke shop, sitting on the curb. luke had a fake id (for research purposes, of course. he was just curious to see what the kentucky ids looked like.) so he bought your vape and his cigarettes. when he emerged, he joined you on the curb, pulling out his phone to call an uber back to camp. 
the sun was long gone and he could hear the owls hooting in the distance. it was not a good idea to walk back to camp, even if it wasn’t even a mile away. he watched you unwrap your vape, taking a small hit from it. he lit his cigarette with the lighter he carried with him and smoked with you in silence. 
“uber is gonna take twenty minutes,” he said, placing his phone between the two of you, face up. “i’m guessing there’s not many people around here.” 
you glanced at his phone, giggling at his lockscreen. it was a picture of the entire band, wearing matching novelty sunglasses taken at a .5 angle. they looked ridiculously like the guys you’ve grown to adore. “i like your lockscreen.” 
luke tapped his phone to wake it up. he let out a laugh, “mom took it when we played vegas for the first time. we were too young to go out and we were too afraid to use our fakes so we went to m&m world and got wired on sugar.” 
“you guys are really close, huh?” 
“got to be,” luke shrugged, “we’re together 24/7, but even before that… these guys are my brothers. love ‘em, even when they’re a pain in my ass. what’s your lockscreen?” 
you pulled out your phone, showing him the picture of you, clarisse, and silena flipping off the camera. it was taken during one of your (failed) attempts at studying at the library. you were all in sweatpants and large hoodies with the stress of midterms evident on your faces. “that’s silena, my other best friend from unc. her boyfriend, charlie, took this picture because he said we looked absolutely miserable. and we do, but it makes me happy looking back at it. we were struggling together and we somehow made it out together.” 
“i do not miss school at all,” luke blew out the smoke in his mouth, “i was a shit student.” 
“but now look at you,” you teased, “mr. rockstar.” 
“yeah, yeah,” luke copied your voice, “can’t complain.” 
you hummed, tucking your vape in the pocket of luke’s hoodie, “you can, especially with me. i’m the number one hater, so i enjoy complaining quite a bit.” 
“oh, i know.” 
you smacked his arm, rolling your eyes as he stumbled in his seat, laughing. you cleared your throat, voice turning serious, “seriously. i owe you for today, so complain to me all you want.” 
“you don’t owe me shit, five star,” luke put out his cigarette, standing up as his phone alerted him that the uber was coming soon. he held out his hand to help you up. “but i will take you up on that offer. of course, i can only do that if you don’t ignore me for weeks again.” 
you slapped his hand away, shaking your head, smiling, “shut the fuck up.” 
luke flagged down the uber, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you into the backseat. you entered, making polite conversations with the lady in the driver’s seat. 
“for chase?” 
luke nodded, “yup, thanks so much.” 
as the car drove off in the direction of camp, you turned to luke, mouthing, “chase?” 
he took out his wallet and handed you his fake id: chase reed, brown eyes, brown hair, 5’11. 
luke safely tucked the id back in its slot when you tossed it back at him, giggling at his alter-ego. he didn’t say anything when you moved closer to him, sitting in the middle seat, and held his hand the rest of the way back to camp.
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onlyswan · 11 months
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summary: in which you don’t want to give up on jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).
> idol!jungkook x reader, angst, fluff / word count: 7k
> warnings: tears overflowing </3 mentions of cheating (but again no one did it ok !!), heh judgemental family members amirite, is giving lipstick marks a warning ?
> in which masterlist!
note: anniversary reveal! and more of oc’s pov :( in the aftermath of in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much left to give !! it’s up to u which one to read first if u haven’t. the in which series is a puzzle 😭 i’d love to hear your thoughts after reading <3 hugs and kisses <3
“i feel like this shouldn’t be taking this long.” jungkook jokingly remarks as he pushes the shopping cart with folded arms, tiptoeing and tracing your steps as your eyes wander around the entire shelf of feline necessities.
“leave me alone. there’s too many options.” a huff escapes your mouth as your index finger underlines the flavors of cat treats, aiding you in reading the small words.
he pulls back the cart before it could collide with your hip, resting his chin on top of his arms as he impatiently waits for you to pick out a small gift for your friend’s cat, who you will be catsitting tomorrow.
“just pick the one with the happiest looking cat. that should make it easy, right?”
“jungkook!”
entertained by his own humor, his bright giggles harmonize with yours. eventually, you’re forced to sit on your toes so you can scan the other products shoved in the lowermost shelf.
“surprisingly, many of them don’t look that happy.” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself.
“baby?”
“yes?”
“i’m getting bored.” jungkook pouts sulkily, bouncing his leg. in the midst of spacing out, he spits out the first question that pops in his mind. “what crime would you get arrested for?”
“arson,” you answer with a shrug, perhaps a little too quickly. the most adorable packaging you’ve seen so far steals your attention, and it’s almost as if you’re being beckoned by the colorful jars of cat cookies.
tuna? salmon? or chicken?
“oh?” he perks up in intrigue, mouth gaping in surprise. “why didn’t i expect that? why arson?“
“i mean, nothing special. it just sounds efficient? it takes little work but creates colossal damage.”
his face lights up when you stand back on your feet, relieved that grocery shopping is almost over. you place the jar of your chosen flavor, tuna, in an unoccupied space in the shopping cart.
“but realistically? i’d probably burn down my building with my forgetfulness and then get framed for it. i imagine that sometimes when i cook.”
“who would frame you?! tell me, baby.“ he angrily yells in a whisper, a cheeky smile growing on his face. “i’ll investigate and take care of them. that’s what i will get arrested for.”
“damn, how romantic.” you reply teasingly, granting his lips a loving peck. afterwards, you whisper to him as if you’re trading a well-kept secret, hushed voice and squinted eyes. “later. i’ll show you which of my neighbors i suspect.”
“baby?” jungkook chirps the pet name one more time, seizing your hand and putting it under his so that he’s pushing the cart while holding hands with you.
you hum in acknowledgement, sparing him a short glance as you look around, just incase you find something else you need while you’re on your way to the counter.
“have you thought of anything you want for our second anniversary?” he asks with sparkling eyes, his excitement uncontainable as more days get crossed out from the calendar. “a gift? and where you want to go?”
and that’s when your calmness completely shifts into chaos. his questions are giant buckets filled with ice, callously dunked over your head without any sign or warning. your walking pace gradually slows down as his words sink in, and you drown in the tornado swirling violently in your chest.
“our… anniversary?” you choke out.
your evident confusion is met by jungkook’s disappointment, halting on his tracks as to not leave you behind. “yes, february 25. that’s in three months… have you forgotten?”
“excuse me-”
a middle-aged woman rudely pushes your back, and you apologize in panic as you face your boyfriend to provide her the space to pass through. your heart drops to your stomach when you notice his stoic expression, hurt and distant, before you allow yourself to be whisked away from the center of the aisles.
“babe, please don’t be mad. i swear, i didn’t forget!” you cling to his muscular arm, hugging it to your chest as you stand behind a long line of overflowing shopping carts. “i literally have all the 25th marked in my calendar. how could i forget?”
“ugh, you tell me.” he frowns at you, lightly bumping his head against yours.
“i just didn’t realize it’s that near already.” the half-lie, half-truth tastes bitter on your tongue. “have you ever thought that time moves too fast when you’re happy and having fun? that’s exactly how i feel when i’m with you.”
yes, jungkook have thought of it a million times.
“fuck, alright, i’m not mad. you’re pretty good at this, huh?”
your sweet smile is pleasantly contagious. a flushed-face jungkook unconsciously copies you. he becomes pliant as you raise his arm to wrap it around you, stealing his body warmth this chilly november afternoon.
“i want to see a waterfalls with you. can we go there?”
he presses a kiss to your temple, unmoving for seconds, before he pulls away with a distinct smooching sound that fills your stomach with butterflies. “mhmm, niagara?”
you fail to hold back an amused snort, covering your mouth to prevent unwanted attention from strangers. “be serious. think local! we barely even go out of town!”
“but i’m serious.” he blinks at you. “we can just take pictures, have a dinner date, then go home!”
“you do know that it’s at the other side of the pacific, right?”
the cold breeze engulfs you in a big embrace as soon as you step out of the grocery store, carefree and unaware of its thorns prickling your skin. hand in hand, you and jungkook walk to his car parked two blocks away, carrying a plastic bag while he took the heavier two.
after putting out the small fire, your tumultuous emotions clamber to the surface, and it becomes increasingly difficult to hold them down the longer he’s around. the clouds are dark gray, as if they’re writing in pencil beforehand, my tears are about to fall. you feel stupidly envious of their ability to weep anytime they need to, in the face of the casualties. how nice would it be if you allowed yourself to be the same?
“this wasn’t here before. when did they open? let’s go inside for a bit.”
distracted by your stream of thoughts, you are guided inside an establishment with you only noticing belatedly. jungkook lets go of your hand to marvel at the collection of sunglasses displayed in extended rows. you stay idle by his side, watching him check himself out in the mirror as he tries them on one by one.
“that one looks good on you.” the praise automatically slips from your mouth when he wears a rectangle-shaped brown frame, more on the bigger side. as expected from your extremely handsome boyfriend, he makes it appear more stylish than it originally looked on the shelf.
“really? should i buy it?” he wears a radiant beam, repeatedly lifting it up and down as he inspects your face with and without the filtered lens.
“hm, i think so.” you skip over the grocery bags on the floor, squeezing in yourself in the small mirror. “here, look here again.”
jungkook rests his head on yours as he smiles at your reflections, tight-lipped, bringing out the most endearing set of dimples you’ve ever seen.
“why are you acting cute today?”
“i was just born this way.” he grins proudly. “and i guess i missed you.”
the ever-present sincerity in his voice adds weight to the heaviness chained to your heart, and you reward a kiss on his cheek to conceal your uneasiness, leaving a conspicuous lipstick mark in your wake.
“yah!” he lightheartedly scolds you with a chuckle, pushing up the sunglasses over his hair to examine his face.
you reflexively seize his wrist with an offended gasp. “hello? are you about to wipe off my kiss?”
“you can give me a thousand more in the car.“
“but that defeats the purpose.” you defeatedly answer as you let him go, witnessing your lipstick turn into a faint blush that compliments his honey skin. “oh, fine! i guess i’ll go window shopping over there.”
“where’s ‘over there’?”
he whips his head around to discover that you’ve disappeared.
you don’t flinch when you feel someone hold your waist. maybe you know it’s jungkook. maybe you know jungkook will die before he lets anyone else touch you in his presence.
“are you sure you won’t get anything?”
“i won’t. i just saw the hot air balloon two months ago.” you timidly shake your head as you return the sixth eyeglasses you tried on. “are we going home?”
your boyfriend responds by intertwining your fingers together.
“let me take this again then.” you reclaim the grocery bag you were with earlier, taking it upon yourself to hold the paper bag of his new sunnies as well, just to lighten his load. how the hell did he manage to carry everything in one hand?
your eyelids briefly flutter shut when he kisses your cheek. “thank you.”
when jungkook pushes the door open do you only hear the raindrops crashing on the pavement, splashes of cold water staining your denim pants as you stand under the canopy roof.
“shit, it’s so cold.” he shivers with a laugh as you simultaneously pull your hoods over your heads. “carry the bags on your other side.”
“why?” you ask innocently, but you do as he says anyway, not seeing any reason not to.
“just because.” he transfers to your right, capturing your free hand to put it inside the front pocket of his hoodie along with his. “let’s go!”
and you know the probability of you buying cold medicine for two in twenty-four hours is high, but this moment feels like it could last forever — running under the rain with him and feeling overwhelmingly alive, heart and soul; realizing halfway that he switched positions so he’d be the one closer to the busy and slippery road. they have wild similarities: nature and jungkook. a breath of fresh air. stars. the candied scent of flowers. dulcet sounds. warmth. home. resourcefulness. whimsical. unstoppable force. they devastate you catastrophically without meaning to. sometimes you overthink that they do. sometimes you know them and sometimes you don’t. you’re part of the problem but it’s hard to admit.
jungkook drives ten times more carefully. the rain is pouring harder as the seconds fly by, giving the radio speakers of his car a run for their money. the twenty-five minute drive to your apartment is nothing short of torturous, tinted windows too blurry and too reminiscent of memories you’ve been trying to push into the recesses of your mind. but they’re out of control, ceaselessly replaying in your head, and you can still see his tear-stained face even when you close your eyes. the windshield wipers are working hard but the sky is remorseless.
“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”
“i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”
he’s wrong. you so strongly wish that he’s wrong.
you swallow the lump in your throat, chewing your bottom lip harshly, but the thread you’ve been hanging on has been snipped. you begin to cry silently, curled up on the passenger seat and face hidden by the hood you haven’t taken off. you pretend to be asleep as jungkook softly hums the tune of the songs playing in the radio. you feel so fucking suffocated. you hate this car. you hate the rain. you hate that you’re being this way. you feel guilty that your boyfriend is excited for your second anniversary while you’re stuck up in the past. you feel ashamed of feeling, almost.
you don’t know how to tell him that you’re sad because you love him. and even sadder when he thoughtfully wraps you in a blanket in the middle of a red light, stroking your back as he whispers. “my baby must be so tired.”
the rain has become a clement drizzle by the time you arrive at your destination. standing before your apartment unit, jungkook sets down the grocery bags on the floor to take off the wax cord necklace hidden underneath his clothing. he uses the pendant, his copy of your house key, to unlock the front door.
you slip off the loose sneakers on your feet by the floor mat before heading straight to the bedroom. you hang your boyfriend’s backpack on your study chair and place his paper bag on top of your desk. he enters the room when you’re already pulling the thick hoodie over your head, leaving you in a navy blue body-hugging top.
“love, are you okay?” he asks as he brings out fresh clothes from his backpack, looking over your sprawled out figure on the bed, eyes shut and breathing heavy.
“i’m alright.” you force yourself to sit up, sliding off the bed to stand on your feet. your head is pounding and you want to puke your guts out. is it normal to experience such heartache that you feel physically sick? “i’ll put away the groceries.”
“okay. i’ll be there to start cooking dinner!”
you merely nod, brushing past him.
you begin with restocking the fridge. meat, eggs, yogurt, almond milk, fruits, and the like. jungkook arrives when you’re already unpacking the second bag, and his first instinct is to affectionately hug you from behind. after too many days physically apart, he’ll be damned if he’ll allow even an inch of distance between your bodies.
your actions are put on halt when his palm presses on your neck, and then the back of it. “why do you feel so warm? don’t you feel sick?”
it was the final blow. to be honest, it’s been long overdue. you’re frozen in place, defeated as one by one, the tears finally drip from your damp eyelashes. they roll down your cheeks, some crashing on the table and seeping into the wood to form tiny circles of a darker shade of brown. the rest of them rolls down to the hand that is checking your temperature. you sniffle before he can question the new sensation on his skin.
“hey- hey, what’s wrong? are you crying?“ he moves to your side for a better view of your face, but you shake your head in denial. “what happened? baby?”
“nothing.” you mutter, brushing him off.
you gather the bottles of soy sauce and vinegar, wiggling out his hold to place them in the shelf above the stove. you return to the table to pick up the stuff that goes in the cabinets, but jungkook catches your wrist, removing the pack of sliced bread from your hand.
“i thought we’re not supposed to shut each other out.” he whispers, pulling you closer and guiding your arms around his waist. “it breaks my heart when you cry, baby.”
his doe eyes are pleading as he tilts up your chin to meet his gaze, thumb softly drawing circles on the apple of your cheek. you feel so utterly lost, overwhelmed by his gestures of kindness and affection. and yet you cry, because if he loved you that much, how did breaking up became an option he was willing to choose?
“our anniversary…” you trail off, ripping apart at the seams. “it still counts.”
neither of you knows if it’s a statement or a question.
“it still counts.” he nods slowly, repeating your words. “sh-should it not?”
his heart races in his chest as fear creeps up on him, dreading your answer. did he fuck up again? but your response only leaves him with more questions floating above his head.
“if we only had a pause- does that mean you… didn’t try looking for someone else? right? you didn’t sleep with anyone? while we were…”
for a moment, jungkook forgets how to speak as silence reigns over. his forehead creases in confusion, a sharp pang digging in his heart like a dagger as you wait with bated breath.
“no. why would you ev- no. no, i didn’t. where is this coming from?” his round, agitated eyes search for a clue in your expression but you don’t allow him that privilege, impassive as you withdraw from the close proximity between you.
“it doesn’t matter, that’s all i needed. thank you for answering.” you sigh heavily, turning on your heel to head to the bathroom. “i’m going to wash up.“
“____, come on. don’t walk away from me.” he almost begs out of desperation as his fingers curl around your arm, itching to embrace you because serrated trepidation is gnawing at his insides. he’s not losing you. he’s not losing you. he’s not losing you. he won’t let you slip away.
you sigh. “let go, jungkook.”
“how can i let you walk away after learning that you think i cheated on you?” he frustratedly blurts out, the words revolting on his tongue. this was never supposed to happen. he was supposed to be a partner who never gave you any reason to question his faithfulness. “that doesn’t matter?”
“it doesn’t.” you assert firmly.
jungkook is scared. he doesn’t understand how you can look at him like this, pretend you’re not wounded and bleeding. he doesn’t know if you’re giving him a pass or if you’re punishing him.
“either way, you broke up with me, jungkook… i would hate it, but it wouldn’t have been cheating.”
“it is to me.” his hauntingly angelic voice shatters, along with your fragile hearts as he says- “i didn’t love you any less and you know that.”
sorrow seeps into the silence, permeating the cold air, thick with heartache and tension. you walk away from him wordlessly, and jungkook is taken aback, vision blurred and unfocused as his hand drops to his side, devastatingly dejected.
“____!” your name fades into a muffled noise.
the doorknob clicks when you lock it. numb as your feet carry you to the sink, numb as you twist the faucet until you can’t anymore. the strong pressure of the water hitting the porcelain echoes throughout the dimly-lit bathroom. you tightly grip the edge of the sink as you fall apart disastrously, like a wave blazing past the shore and destroying everything in its path with ferociousness — because it’s the only thing left it knows how to do. your endless tears turn the cold tap water into saltwater. it inevitably overflows, spilling over the edges and soaking your trembling hands.
when he broke up with you, it opened the door to many other possibilities that hurts you to think about. you thought you knew, too. but the seed of doubt was planted in your mind when you were forsaken, and it kept growing as a wildflower even when he came back and laid beside you after not reaching out for weeks.
the last time you cried like this, you begged him to allow you to keep loving him.
your weak knees give in to the pull of gravity, heedless of nasty bruises as you cover your mouth to restrain your afflicted sobbing, nails scratching the porcelain as your lone hand insists on holding you up. sometimes love is not a warm comforting embrace. sometimes love is teeth. sometimes love is biting and perversely holding on. were you not worth fighting for? this time around, can he sacrifice something else instead of you? does that make you sound selfish? what if you don’t care that it does? and you wonder if it’s alright for two people to be in a relationship despite having different ideas of what loving means. you wonder if you’ve truly changed his mind.
outside, jungkook anxiously paces back and forth. the piercing sob that tears itself from your throat and crawls through the small cracks of the door is a direct, forceful punch to his gut. he swallows thickly, wiping away the tears brimming his eyes. he can’t cry, not right now. four months have passed, but it isn’t time’s job to heal all wounds. it’s his.
“what are you making?”
jungkook’s bubble pops when he hears your voice. he didn’t even realize when the shower stopped running, too absorbed in the kitchen so that he won’t intrude into your boundaries despite his restlessness. he takes you in, clad in your silk pajamas, before looking back at the bowl of dark brown batter he’s been tirelessly stirring and folding to incorporate the ingredients together.
“brownies.”
“all of a sudden? thought you were going to make dinner.” you leave no space between the two of you as you dip in the tip of your pinky finger for a taste.
that was the original plan, but he knows that you like to consume sweets when you’re feeling down.
“i’m about to. are you hungry?“ he speaks in a subdued voice, gingerly rubbing your lower back. “i’m putting this in the oven now.“
“can i help?”
jungkook dies a little inside when your eyes meet and he notices that yours are swollen, yet still gleaming with affection.
“you can, uhm, peel the potatoes?”
you curiously look back to see the ingredients for gamjatang, pork bone soup, laid out on the dining table. “okay.”
as you begin to diligently do the task you were assigned, he transfers the batter to the pan covered with parchment paper before pushing it inside the pre-heated oven. the faint pitter-patter of the rain fills the apartment as the clouds squall once more. he occupies the seat next to you, entire body facing you as his arm rests on top of the backrest of your chair.
“don’t you want to talk about it?”
you frown, briefly pausing as you ponder so you won’t cut yourself. “no, i want to… i just needed time to think.”
he grows quiet, biting at his nails as he watches your hands smoothly peel off the skin of a potato using a paring knife.
“it matters to me.” he’s been dying to say. “____, you know that i love you, right?”
you thought you had no tears left in you, but your face is feeling hot yet again.
“i know.”
“i did a shitty job at showing it because i was stupid, but it never stopped being true.” he says, steady and sure, doe eyes longing to read your mind. “i love you so much, hm…? i love you.”
“i know. that’s why i’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
a small bitter smile appears on your face as you pick up another potato to peel.
“the other day, your aunt told me you went on dates… she even showed me old pictures of you and the girl together then apologized to me-” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “for setting you up, because she thought i got what i wanted from you and finally backed off. but none of your friends ever mentioned this person to me… or you… that’s why i couldn’t- i couldn’t… it was embarrassing.”
it’s hilarious, really, how you were scared shitless of jungkook’s parents not approving of you, but you failed to consider his relatives. you can’t shake off the subtle looks indicating that you were dirt on her shoe, the honeyed condescending tone that made you feel small and hollow as you sat with her at the bus stop, completely clueless as she rambled. you wanted to laugh, cry, and curse up a storm. and you would’ve chased after her when she went to ride the bus without giving you the opportunity to stand up for yourself, but you had to remind yourself that your actions might taint people’s perception of jungkook, and you couldn’t risk that.
“baby- baby, look at me. please.”
he carefully pries away the potato and the knife from your hands, cupping your face in his big palms. you gaze at him wide-eyed as you ground yourself by clutching onto his wrist. your loud heartbeat pounds in your ears because it’s not always that you can look at each other like this, meeting halfway, seeing more than feeling.
his eyebrows are closely knitted, nose scrunching and barely blinking as he sets the record straight.
“it was one time. she’s been trying to set us up since forever, then… then she planned a date during the time we weren’t talking without even confirming with me… it was a place outside the company, so i just went to say it was a misunderstanding and i’m taken! i felt embarrassed because it’s a family friend. nothing more…” he caresses you tenderly, feeling a pinch in his chest as he tries to put himself in your shoes. “i promise, love, i left after like two minutes. why would i go on dates when i was losing my mind, hm? i was missing you like crazy.”
you melt into him when he crosses the short distance between you, pressing his soft lips on yours for a kiss that makes the whole world quiet. your noses brush each other before he withdraws.
“she left out that part, didn’t she?” he rhetorically asks with venom stirred in his otherwise dulcet voice.
you purse your lips into a thin line.
“seriously, this- this is ridiculous… this is bullshit. she really did it this time. ah, i’m angry! does this even make sense? what’s the point of all that?” jungkook huffs with a sarcastic chuckle as he runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing and tugging to release his growing frustration somehow.
this is why his lover has been doubtful of his devotion? he has known his aunt since he learned how to recognize faces, and he knows that it takes a whole lot for you to reach this breaking point. he can only imagine the interaction that took place, and it makes him feel sick to his stomach.
you’ve seen the good and the bad, and you focus on the good, and you stay with him despite despite despite.
he takes a deep breath to compose himself, and then his tongue prods the inside of his cheek as his determined eyes search for his phone. he quickly snatches it from the table and stands up, the screen coming to life as he unlocks it with his thumb’s fingerprint. “i’ll be right back, baby.”
“jungkook,” you call out his name as a warning, grasping his wrist before he can go too far. “don’t act rashly.”
“i’m not! i’d go to busan but i’ll put that off because i’d rather spend my day-off with you.”
you don’t know what you were expecting his reaction would be, but it’s not a great leap to say that he is furious, pending to explode.
“i’ve been nothing but polite even though she was fucking badgering me non-stop, but i won’t let her think that it’s okay to treat you like that… she doesn’t have the right to meddle with my life, and she can’t disrespect the most important person to me. i-i-” he pauses to breathe, chest heaving with the weight of his emotions. “i won’t allow it.”
you are his calmness and he is the storm.
his voice wavers by the end of his sentence, doe eyes turning glassy as he sincerely confesses, which is probably why this isn’t the right time for you to smile like a lovesick highschooler with a crush. this is exactly what you tried to avoid, making a mess and a series of uncomfortable holidays, so why does it have to feel good to hear him say that?
you nod with understanding as you free his wrist. “okay. don’t take too long.”
jungkook heads to the front door before his anger can be erased by his adoration for you, so endearing as you peel small potatoes like you had all the time in the world.
as he steps outside, the raucous rain rings in your ears and its distinct smell mixed with the soil enters the apartment.
you cluelessly blink at the ingredients surrounding you as you mutter to yourself. “how many of these am i supposed to peel again?”
jungkook returns after a phone call that went longer than planned, but not before wiping the wet floor from both sides of your front door to avoid accidents. he discovers you squatting infront of the unlocked kitchen oven.
“what are you doing?” he asks with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“it’s baked…” you raise the toothpick you poked the brownie with, tilting your head to the side. “right?“
“oh, it is! let’s take it out.”
he rushes to the counter to wear oven mitts, and you stand aside so he can carry out the pan from the oven. you follow him as he places it on top of the wooden table mat on the table, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt to gain his attention.
“what happened?” you interrogate him worriedly as he pulls off the oven mitts from his hands.
“huh?” you’re coaxed to move closer when he caresses your nape, sliding down to the smooth expanse of your back. “my mom will call you soon.”
“what? why?!”
“she wants to cook for you. to apologize for what her son and her sister did.” he scrunches his nose with a guilty chuckle, scratching his head. “let’s go home for dinner one of these days, okay? we’ll cook your favorites.”
“but i thought…” you chew on your bottom lip, hand balling in a fist and crumpling the fabric of your boyfriend’s t-shirt. “did you call your mom too? i don’t want to cause trouble.”
“what do you mean? you’re doing nothing of the sort.” he gives you a disapproving look, gently squeezing your tense hand to quell your worries. “and it just turns out she was listening the whole time i was talking. they’re hanging out together. uh, besides, she would’ve found out one way or the other.”
“but they can’t be fighting, right?”
“aigoo, don’t worry about it anymore. stop hurting your brain. it’s mean.” he strokes your head lovingly with a small smile that suggests an answer to your question. “your mother-in-law loves you. everything’s okay. it’s cold so let’s just eat our dinner then cuddle in bed, hm, baby?”
oh. your mother-in-law?
“you’re so annoying.” you mutter half-heartedly, burying your face in your hands as the tears surge in once more.
god, you feel so relieved.
you crash against jungkook’s body when he tugs you closer to envelope you in his arms. maybe, just maybe, if he does it long enough, you will be pieced back together. even though he, himself, breaks when you weakly pound at his chest with clenched fists.
“i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.” you chant like a broken record in between sobs, glitching in cracks and pauses and stutters. the more you say the same three words, the more they lose their meaning.
he squeezes his eyes shut, enduring the heart-splitting pain and embracing you tighter. “i know- i know.” he repeats your words from earlier.
he hates himself, too. he needs to get his shit together. he understands — he has to grow up if he wants to keep you.
“but i love you, and i’m scared you’ll leave again and i won’t beg you anymore.” you ramble without thinking, brain on auto-pilot mode. “i’m not that kind of person, jungkook. that’s not me. i don’t have to prove it, do i?”
you feel so utterly exposed, disgustingly vulnerable. nevertheless, before jungkook is anything else, he is your best friend.
“t-they think i’m using you.” you hiccup, forearm covering your stinging eyes. you taste the salt in your own tears as you speak. “but that’s unfair, so unfair. i only accept what i’m given. i barely ask you for anything. it was only one time, o-only one time. i asked you to come back, because i missed you. i want to be with you because you make me happy.”
jungkook’s jaw clenches in anger, no longer able to withhold his tears. he sniffles, wiping his wet cheek on his shoulder. you’ve suffered more than enough because of him. if anything, he should be the one getting the lashings from his side and yours. this is wrong. this is all wrong.
“shh- shhh. breathe, baby.” he coos as he pushes down your arm, brushing away the tears on your face. “come here.”
you whimper when he swoops you off your feet, carrying you bridal style to the living room. he sits on the sofa, and he sits you on his lap. you slide off him, just a tiny bit for your back to reach the armrest, pulling him along with you.
“hug me,” you demand quietly.
he fails to defy the urge to smile, abruptly pulling you in for a passionate kiss that steals the air from your lungs. your eyelids flutter shut, tense body relaxing into him as your lips follow his lead in this delicate dance of enigmatic intimacy. your fingers graze his jaw shakily, afraid it might cut you and you’ll be awoken from this enduring dream. they desperately tangle themselves with his hair, digging to keep him glued onto you.
“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”
he makes a whispered promise carved into the walls of your apartment, sealed by his lips pressing to your knuckles, and you’re left to wonder forever if he kissed your left ring finger on purpose.
jungkook is soft-spoken, slow and careful with his words that could make or break you.
“i’m so sorry that i hurt you. and i’m sorry that you have to go through this because of me. i’m sorry for everything. i’m sorry. but…” he inhales, and exhales, licking his lips. “the noise might never stop. i know it’s not as easy to say, but i hope we don’t let them get into our heads. just because we can hear them, doesn’t mean we have to listen, you know?”
and as much as it kills him to admit-
“we’re fragile right now, so i want to protect what we have.”
you profusely nod your head, and his thumbs sweep over your cheeks to catch your teardrops.
“let’s be happy, and love each other for a very long time, hm…? i know you’re not that kind of person, so you can ask me for anything. or you can even take them without asking me. i don’t care. what about it?” he says with passion and conviction, galaxy-filled eyes expanding as he shakes his head. “but never me, or my love. you shouldn’t feel like you have to ask for it. do you know why?”
you arch an eyebrow at him, still switching between fiddling with his long and slender fingers and tracing the veins running along his arms. “why?”
“because i’m yours. every single second of everyday. i love you. you deserve all the love i can give. that’s my number one responsibility as your boyfriend… but i failed you. i know you forgive me but… but i-i want to love you better. i won’t get tired of fighting for us, and showing you that i mean everything i say.”
“don’t say things like that.” at last, you crack a genuine smile, giggling as you lightly hit his chest. “i’ll become greedy.”
“good. that’s what i want.” he retorts with a chuckle, but he means it wholeheartedly.
he wants to be inconvenienced by you. he wants to make impulsively confrontational phone calls he will overthink before bed. he wants you to wake him up in the middle of the night clawing for snuggles. he wants you to jump on his back when you’re exhausted of walking. he wants to charm the owner of your favorite restaurant into cooking one more meal before closing because you always ask him to make a quick stop when he visits you. he wants his life to be influenced by yours in every possible way, two different colors mixed in a palette to create a new one that matches the sky.
“thank you.” you smile sheepishly. “and i’m sorry too, for everything. i don’t handle these things well… i’m still learning.”
“mhmm-hmm.” he shakes his head in disagreement, before leaning in to pepper your face with kisses. “i love you.” he smells like romance and comfort, sugar and cocoa from the brownies — the cure to your nausea. you still taste a hint of the sweet flavor when your tongue darts out to lick your dry lips, traces from your taste test and his.
“babe?” you whisper after minutes that felt like hours, drowsy and cozy cuddled up with your boyfriend in the corner of your sofa.
he hums in question, sleepily nuzzling his face on your neck.
“i’m so hungry. i think i’m going to die.”
“ah, yes. i can hear that.”
“should i slice the onions next?” you question in a sing-song voice as you enter the kitchen, immediately regaining possession of knife.
“stay away from them. i don’t want you to cry again.”
you pout, clicking your tongue. “you’re right. then what else can i do…? why do you look scared?”
you study jungkook’s wary stance in amusement, taking a glance at your hand where his shaking pupils are trained.
he playfully puts up his arms in surrender, laughter laced with nervousness. “baby, stop waving the knife around.”
“i’m not!”
“yes, you are! just put it down. i’ll do everything, okay?”
you place it back on the table with a scoff, slumping on the chair and crossing your arms. “and then what?”
“then have the brownies for appetizer.” with a self-satisfied grin, he cuts out a slice of brownie that has cooled down during the time it was left unattended.
“i don’t think this is how it works.”
“shhh, baby.“ he menacingly hushes you with his pointer finger over his lips. “don’t say anything. just taste it first. ahhh-“
you take a small bite from the piece that he’s holding out for you, and then another after deeming it too small.
“how is it?” he gulps as he anticipates your reply.
“yummy!”
“really?” he giggles when you chomp on the remaining dessert and accidentally bite his poor fingers.
“don’t know what makes a good brownie exactly, but it’s perfect to me.” you nod your head enthusiastically, somewhat feeling better with the prospect of having your stomach filled with more of your boyfriend’s cooking.
your jaw slacks open in offense when he slaps your hand in the middle of your attempt to pick up the knife, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he threateningly looks at you.
“what was that for? i just want more brownies!” you cry out, lightly kicking his shin from under the table.
“oh- ow!” he cracks up in hearty laughter, corners of his eyes crinkling as he rubs the affected area. “sorry, i’m sorry for my fault! they’re all yours! please forgive me! i’m sorry!”
you send him a scowl before pouring all your focus into slicing the rest of the dessert into bite-sized squares.
he bends down to your eye-level, cutely tilting his head to the side as he speaks lowly. “i’ll cook dinner now. just wait a little more… maybe two hours?”
“please tell me you’re joking.”
not long after, you hop on the vacant counter space with the brownies for a better view of the kitchen scene. you leisurely swing your legs as you watch jungkook freely move around your kitchen, occasionally getting lost as he converses with himself. if your calculations are correct, he has asked himself the questions “oing? what was i supposed to do again? what did i come here for?” twice so far. it’s a good thing he talks to himself out loud so you can remember things for him.
he stirs the pot of stew, leaves to gather more ingredients, then comes back to dump them in. the cycle ends with nods of satisfaction, before he waddles over to your spot for a snack break. straight away, you greet his parted lips with the chocolate-y goodness that was reaped from his sweat and tears.
as he chews on the brownie, he turns his face to the other direction and pokes his cheek for another request. with your thighs caging his hips and your hands grasping his collar, you tug him closer to your body. your plushy lips plant gentle but full kisses on his cheek, trailing down to his defined jaw and neck when you run out of space. the tingling sensation shooting up his spine prompts his fingers to dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, breathing gradually getting heavier with your every electrifying touch. the final kiss is granted to his adam’s apple, more prominent as he swallows.
you straighten back up while fixing your hair, and jungkook’s starry eyes follow your red lips in a hypnotized daze. there’s no one else who can make his heart flutter quite like you do. your breathy giggles are music to his ears as you take in the sight of both his cheeks adorned with scattered lipstick marks, appearing like watercolor on paper.
“what’s that for?” he eyed you suspiciously while you were painting your lips, but it’s him who kept coming back to you for more although you were already happy with one.
“you look so funny.”
but if this arrangement goes: he can make you laugh by granting you the permission to leave marks where your lips have been, he will happily live with that.
“can i take a picture?”
but you don’t even have to ask. your phone is still charging in the bedroom, so he proposes his for your convenience.
“here. just airdrop them to yourself.” he hands it to you with a cool shrug, nonchalant on the surface but giddy inside.
taglist in the reblogs! send a message/ask if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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leclerced · 5 months
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daydreaming | ln4 mv1
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summary: intro into the blindfold universe! inspired by this ask i received and this one i sent bff j <3
warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. pure smut
author’s note: thank u guys sm for 500 followers <3 i hope u guys like this! its kind of rushed i wrote it yesterday bc i just wanted to write something in this universe <3 send me ur thoughts on what we should call her bc she needs a nameee
masterlist
She doesn’t realized she’s fallen into a daydream watching Max until Lando’s in front of her snapping in her face. She blinks stupidly at him, “Huh? Did you say something?”
Lando rolls his eyes and laughs. “Thinking about last night?” He teases her as he wiggles his eyebrows and she shakes her head. Her mind is flooded with memories of him between her legs the night before and her cheeks flush at the reminder.
“No, just uh, tired. Trying not to fall asleep.” She presses herself further into the couch cushion for emphasis and he sits next to her, draping an arm across her shoulders.
His breath is warm against her as he leans in and brushes his lips against the shell of her ear, “You’ve got that look in your eye, what are thinking about?” He leans back into the couch, now that he’s sitting next to her, he can follow her gaze and see she’s watching Max in his garage across from them. Despite her objecting again, her eyes betray her as they stay locked on him and she crosses her legs. Lando smirks to himself, ideas bubbling in his mind as he rests a hand on her thigh and she finally looks over at him.
“What are you doing?” She squeaks as he pushes his hand up her thigh, fingers dipping under the hem of her skirt.
He gives her a little smile, “Wanna go back to my driver’s room?” She quickly nods and hops up, grabbing his wandering hand to pull him up with her. Lando almost laughs at how quickly she pulls him up and out the back of the garage.
She pushes him down onto the loveseat in his driver’s room and climbs on top of him, instantly pressing her lips to his as she rocks her hips against his. Lando’s hands find her hips and begin guiding her to grind on him as he breaks the kiss, “Said you weren’t thinking about anything, but you’re acting like a slut.” She gasps and he continues, “Wanna tell me what you were thinking about now?”
“Told you, I wasn’t-“ She begins denying it again but Lando cuts her off.
“Saw you watching him, pet, you don’t have to lie to me.” He watches her cheeks flush and her mouth open and close in shock a few times.
“If you already know, why are you asking?” She finally huffs in annoyance.
He dips one hand between her thighs and sighs, “You’re soaked.” She rolls her hips so his fingers slip against her panties and she whines. “Just thinking about him got you this wet? Why don’t you go talk to him? I’m sure he’d be happy to help you out.” Her eyes flutter shut and she lets out a shaky moan as he slides her panties to the side and slides a finger into her.
She gasps again, eyebrows scrunching as he slowly pumps his finger, curling it each time he bottoms out with it. “Lan, want more.” She tries to avoid his questions, but he doesn’t give in to her plea.
He shakes his head even though she can’t see and continues the torturous pace. “Too scared to talk to him, is that it? Gonna play him just like you did me; act all sweet and innocent until he makes a move? Least with me it wasn’t all an act, it’s just too bad I’ve already ruined you, hun,he won’t get to corrupt you like I did.” She whines and tries to rock her hips against his hand, attempting to ride his finger but his other hand on her hip holds her steady as he laughs, “See what I mean? Got you so desperate you’re trying to ride my hand.” He curls his finger in her and begins rubbing her clit, drawing a lewd moan from her lips as he coos, “Be patient, hun, I’ll give you want you want… At least, I’ll make you cum. Can’t give you what you really want, isn’t that right? You wish it was him right now playing with your pussy?” She moans loudly and presses her face into his neck to hide the humiliated flush that coats her cheeks as she suddenly cums around his finger at the thought of Max’s fingers between her legs.
Lando laughs gleefully as she gushes around a single finger, her lips pressing to his neck to muffle her moans as she rocks against him. He lets her pull him in for a kiss when her orgasm subsides and she seeks his lips out immediately, soft and plump against his as she gasps into his mouth, fingers still attacking her sensitive pussy.
He’s not ready for the kiss to end when his watch buzzes on his wrist, but he breaks the kiss to see Oscar’s texted him that he’s needed in the car and everyone is looking for him. He kisses her one last time before sliding her off his lap and onto the couch, “I’ve gotta get in the car, I’ll see you later?” She mutely nods, grabbing one of his hands as he gets up and pressing a kiss to his palm before he leaves. She curls up and naps on his couch for the duration of the practice sessions, too turned on and embarrassed over everything Lando had just said to risk making eye contact with Max.
A few nights pass without incident, then after the race Sunday night, Lando’s made her cum three times and she’s barreling towards a fourth when suddenly he slows the speed of his hips against hers and the knot in her stomach begins to loosen. “Hey pet, you know how, the other day you were looking at Max?” She’s flooded with humiliation at the reminder but nods. “Anyone else you wanna fuck?”
She gasps and shakes her head quickly, too quickly. Lando grins above her, “You sure about that, baby? Could’ve sworn I saw you checking out Oscar this weekend.” If her cheeks weren’t already blushing, they would be as she shakes her head again and tries to press her face into the covers. He brings a hand to direct her to look at him again, “‘M not done. You know, they all wanna fuck you? Every single one of my friends. I can see it on their faces when I catch them watching. If only they know how badly you wanted some of them too.” She tries to fight his grip on her jaw to turn her face and press it into the pillow under her head to avoid his gaze but he keeps her in place. “Just tell me which one you want, and I can call him right now, any one of them would come running; Max, Daniel, Oscar… Even Charles and Carlos would be lining up for a chance.” She moans at each name, eyes fluttering shut as her mind is overwhelmed with possibilities. Lando picks his pace back up and begins fucking her quickly, hips smacking against hers and the slick sound of his cock gliding in and out of her makes her hot all over. “Could have ‘em lined up, let all my friends see how good this pussy is.” Her orgasm crashes over her suddenly as his thumb rubs quick circles into her clit, and she doesn’t even realize she was moaning Max’s name until she reopens her eyes and sees Lando on his phone, still fucking her as he casually chats with whoever, “Hey, sorry for waking you, didn’t look at the time. Come to my room, yeah?”
She blinks up at him stupidly before her eyes dart over to the door expectantly. A moment later, there’s a loud knock at the door and Lando’s pulling away from her before he’s came. She points it out and he grins, “I can fuck you anytime I want, don’t wanna make Max have to eat my cum out of you. Not yet, anyways.” She stares at him in bewilderment as he walks over to the door completely naked. She doesn’t have the energy after four orgasms to feel nervous or self conscious as Max is pulled into the room, confused at Lando’s nudity until he sees her fucked out on the mattress and Lando pushes him towards it and the confusion grows. Max stumbles before catching himself and turning back to his friend curiously.
Lando grins, “We haven’t got all night, get to it.” Max blinks stupidly at him, half wondering if this is some fucked up ultra realistic dream he’s having, but then she’s sitting up on the mattress and crawling towards him. He meets her at the edge of the bed, she stands up on her knees so she can wrap her hands in his hair and pull him in for a kiss. It’s hesitant at first, she hasn’t kissed anyone but Lando since she was a teenager and another man’s lips on hers are foreign and exciting. Max takes the lead and swipes his tongue across her bottom lip, and she happily parts her lips so he can lick his way into her mouth. He lets her pull him down with her and follows her up the bed as she scoots back into the pillows and he finds himself settling between her thighs.
The bed shifts behind him and he breaks the kiss to see Lando settling on the edge of the bed. Her lips move down his neck and her legs wrap around his waist drawing a moan from his lips as she pulls him down against her and rolls her hips up in the same motion. Lando gives him a little nod and he takes it as an all clear despite the verbal invite moments before and lets his hands settle on her hips. They don’t stay there for long, once he feels her soft skin under his fingertips he can’t get enough and they begin exploring her body.
She’s sighing into his mouth with every roll of her hips against his and he can feel how wet she is through his pajama pants, he’s fully hard and leaking in record time from her grinding. Max finally moves one hand between her thighs and runs two fingers up and down her slit to collect her wetness before he slips them inside. She’s so slick and warm and Max feels himself twitch and leak precum at the feeling. He barely fingers her before she’s reaching down to pull his hand from between her thighs, “Need you to fuck me, now.”
The demand goes straight to his head and he looks to Lando for approval, “Do you have a condom?” Lando shakes his head, “Don’t use ‘em, but she’s on birth control.” Max blinks at him in shock before turning back to her when he feels her hand dip into his pajamas to wrap around him and she moans at the weight of him in her hand.
“Feel good, Maxie.” She sighs the pet name as she swipes her thumb over the head of his cock and he groans, hands fumbling to push his bottoms down his thighs and she’s quick to guide the thick head of his cock to her entrance. Max doesn’t hesitate for fear Lando will decide this is a bad idea and make him stop, and he revels in the loud moan that he forces out of her when he bottoms out quickly. Her voice is pitchy as she gasps, “Oh- you-you’re so big.” He slowly rocks his hips against hers and is given another praise as she stutters, “Can feel you in my stomach.” Her eyes flutter shut as one of her hands abandons his hair to press to her lower stomach and she rocks her up hips into his as she cries, “Please, move.”
Her wish is his command, he thinks as he draws back his hips before slamming back into her. Each thrust, he slowly pulls out until the head of his cock catches on her entrance then hard and fast, he bottoms out in her again. Each time his hips hit hers, his cock jolts her g-spot and she sings his praises, begging him to do it again and again until she’s suddenly coming with no warning after his thumb finds her clit and he strokes at the slick bundle of nerves a few times. His lips find her neck and his teeth sinking into her neck teasingly is all it takes for her to fall over the edge, the pleasant mix of pain and pleasure sending her spiraling into the pits of her orgasm.
He barely pulls out before his orgasm hits him right after hers, his cum streaking across her cunt and stomach as he moans into her skin. She strokes the back of his neck and giggles, “You didn’t have to pull out, y’know.”
Max huffs into her skin, “You could’ve told me that before I did.”
She flushes under him and before she can reply, Lando’s making fun of her, “Gonna have to work for it if you want her to tell you what she wants, she’s used to me knowing.” Max’s mind fizzles at the insinuation that this will happen again, but before he can think too hard on it, Lando’s got a hand in his hair and is pulling him away as he teases, “My turn.”
Max debates whether or not he should stay or go as he moves out of the way, he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, but neither of them shoo him away so he hesitantly scoots up the mattress to sit next to her. One of his hands finds her breast and he palms it softly, her head tilting to meet his eyes and she gives him a little nod to continue. He’s happy to, and dips his head down so his mouth can join his fingers, giving the other breast some attention as he pinches and twists her nipple between two fingers.
They make her cum like that, Max’s free hand drifting down to rub her clit while he sucks on her tits and pinches her nipples. Lando tells him how good he was, how good he is now, makes het thank him rubbing her clit without anyone even asking. His ears are hot as Lando speaks filth to both of them, praising him while calling her a whore for begging another man to fuck her when she has a perfectly capable boyfriend. He doesn’t even get kicked out when Lando’s done with her, somehow he falls right into their routine and helps Lando wash her hair in the bath. He’d planned on leaving as Lando carried her to bed from the bathroom, but then she was murmuring his name and sitting up right after Lando set her down and he’d end up crawling into bed to sandwich her between them.
Max wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it for weeks afterwards, he’d be on the verge of begging to have another go at her when Lando walks by and slips something in his pocket. He’d wait until he was alone to pull whatever it was out, and he’s pleasantly surprised to find a tiny envelope containing a keycard with a room number and time written on it.
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kimchichaehi · 4 months
Note
Can I ask G!p Kazuha?
Studying w needy!G!P!zuha
No. Jkjk im so glad u asked bc i was literally writing one
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Contains -> handjob, subby zuha, g!p zuha, idk stuff, NSFW
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YOU waited patiently for her answer, watching her as she thought about what she’d answer with. And a few minutes later, she finally answered. And, it was obviously right. So, you cupped her cheek and pressed your lips to hers. Except....when you tried pulling away, she pulled you closer.
The two of you were studying but you noticed how easily her attention drifted off to other things, the way your shirt hugged your chest, the way you’d look up at her when you asked her a question
But she especially kept her gaze trailed on your lips, while you read out a question, after you kissed her, before.
"More," she whispered, kissing you again, with more heat. More hunger. "Please, just a few more." She begged against your lips, using one of Her hands to place on the back of your head, pulling your face closer to hers, her tongue sliding into your mouth.
You smiled softly as you looked into her eyes "yeah? Want more..?" You said with a sly smirk, you loved just how needy she’d get just by your kisses alone.
Zuha blushed at your words, feeling her heart race in her chest. “Mhm..” she hummed, her pretty black eyes filled with longing as she leaned in to capture your lips once again. Her kiss was filled with a mix of sweetness and hunger, her lips moving against yours with a growing feverish.
"Mm…you're so needy, aren't you?" You smiled as you kissed back, your hand holding her chin
She blushed even deeper at your words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement. She couldn't deny it, she was indeed extremely needy for you. "I-I can't help it," she admitted, her voice slightly shaky.
"Being with you just... drives me crazy." She continued to kiss you, her hands gently cupping your face as she deepened the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth with a gentle fervor.
"I can tell.” You muttered with a smile against her lips “You've been hard ever since i first kissed you..so cute."you said as she pulled away and started kissing your neck.
Zuha smiled softly, her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as she nuzzled against your neck, her lips brushing against your skin with feather-light kisses. "I-I can't help it," she whispered, her voice filled with need.her lips trailed along your neck, planting soft kisses and leaving a trail of gentle nips as her hands wandered down to your waist, pulling you closer to her.
"S'okay i don't mind."you mumbled as your hand slid close to her bulge zuha whined softly, her breath hitching in her throat as your hand brushed against her hardened cock.
"i like how needy you are."you smiled as you pulled her hard cock out of her boxers, yes she was in her boxers her expression quickly changed into a soft pout with her brows furrowed so cutely, her body already trembling under your touch.
Her hips instinctively bucked forward, seeking more contact with your hand as her eyes locked onto yours, her gaze filled with longing and adoration.
"You have no idea How much I crave you.” She whined
"Yeah? Then show me...cum with only my hand." | smiled as i pressed a soft kiss to her lip
the warmth of your touch sending shivers down her spine. With a shaky breath, she began to move her hips, thrusting gently into your hand as she chased the pleasure building within her.
Her eyes locked with yours, filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire. She wanted to make you proud, to show you just how good she could be. Your pace quickened, her hips bucking in sync with your touch as she chased the edge.
With each stroke, her moans grew louder, her grip on your hand tightening. She was lost in a haze of pleasure, her body trembling and her mind consumed by you, only you.
"Fuck, oh god," she moaned, her voice filled with raw desire. "I'm so close, so fucking close. Just like this, with your hand, I'm going to cum for you."
Her hips movements became more erratic, her breathing ragged as she approached her release. And with a final, desperate thrust, she came undone, her body tensing as her cum spilled into your hand, her soft moans filling the air.
As her climax subsided, she immediately leaned in to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.
"So fucking cute." You laugh as you lick her sweet cum off your hand, making her cheeks flush
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Chaez notez-> tried a more like idk but i tried something diff w my wording is it good should i keep doing it like that or nah?
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g3tosugu · 3 months
Text
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a humble abode
xiao x f!reader
warnings: mentions of injuries but it’s not graphic or specific
wc: 1.4k
a/n: okay this was too cute to not try and do omggg i hope u like how it turned out!!!
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“Traveler!” Paimon tried to rouse a bloodied and weakened Lumine. “Come on, it’s just a little bit farther to the Harbor. Please, get up” the flying girl tried her hardest to help her travel partner up. “I’m sorry Paimon. I just need to sit for a minute” Lumine propped herself up against a rock. “Traveler?” a familiar voice rang from up the path. Just before the two girls could look for the voice’s owner, he was already there at their side. “Ah! Oh! It’s Xiao!” Paimon beamed at the familiar face. “You’re injured. What happened?” the adeptus asked with concern plastered all over his face. “Paimon was trying to show the traveler a new spot for us to relax and a really strong looking geovishap came out of nowhere and tried to attack Paimon!” Paimon explained. “I took care of it so it won’t be hurting anyone else” Lumine tried to be positive like she was attempting to bandage her wounds with her own words.
Xiao looked as if he was having an internal struggle at the situation in front of him. “Xiao? You look like you have something to say” Lumine tried to gently pry into his mind. “These injuries are serious. Let me take you to a safe place” he quickly picked Lumine up in his arms. “Paimon, hold onto me okay?” he instructed. Paimon nodded in assurance and placed her hand on his shoulder. And within the blink of an eye the three of them were in a beautiful forest. The trees were various shades of orange and yellow and the sound of children laughing could be heard down by a stream.
Xiao set Lumine down on a bench and gave her another look over to check on her condition. “Wait here, I’m going to get someone” he quickly disappeared and left Lumine and Paimon alone. “This place is beautiful” Paimon spun around to take in all the lush scenery around them. “But, Paimon doesn’t recognize this spot. Do you think we’re in a realm of some kind?” she inquired. “I’m not sure. Xiao is very trustworthy though so I’m positive it’s safe” Lumine tried to sit up more straight, wincing at the pain in her side.
The two of them looked in the distance and saw Xiao approaching them again, but this time he had you with him. Following closely behind you two was a little girl with her hair in a braid that draped over her shoulder and she was carrying some sort of bag. They noticed how she seemed to be staying particularly close to you. “Oh my, you poor thing” you quickly sat at Lumine’s side, assessing her injuries. The little girl that was at your side placed the bag she was carrying at your feet. “Xiahui sweetie, go play with your brothers and sister okay? I’ll come see you again later after I take care of the Traveler” you gently pat the girls head. Xiahui nodded and smiled. “I hope you feel better soon” she shyly spoke towards Lumine before wandering off towards the stream.
You hovered your hands over the painful wound in Lumine’s side. A light green light began to radiate from your hands. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath as you concentrated on her injury. The whole time this was happening, Xiao’s gaze never left you. Paimon looked between you and Xiao as she tried to understand just who exactly who you were and why Xiao took them to you. “There we go. The general pain should start to fade for now but let me dress your wounds properly and clean them” you reached down to the ground where Xiahui placed your medical bag.
“Um, please excuse Paimon but, just who are you exactly?” Paimon finally asked, the question killing her inside having gone unanswered. “She is the adeptus [name]” Xiao answered for you as you focused on cleaning Lumine’s wound. “You’re the adeptus [name]?!” Paimon gasped. “I’m afraid so” you giggled at her exasperated reaction. “Please you can just call me [name]. No need to be so formal” you reassured. “So then this place is…an adepti abode?” Lumine asked as she looked around again. “Exactly” you smiled warmly and began stitching her wound.
“Wait so why are there children in your abode?” Paimon asked. “Well it would be strange to not allow our children to stay in my abode” you chuckled. Paimon and Lumine immediately looked at each other, “Our?!”. “Yes. She is my wife and those” he gestured towards the direction of the stream where your children were playing, “are our children”. “Wife?! Children?!” Paimon and Lumine shouted in unison again. “I can tell Xiao places a great amount of trust in you. Considering he brought you here without asking me“ you finished the last stitch. Xiao looked away and blushed at the subtle dig to his carelessness. You laughed as you placed your medical equipment back in the bag they were kept in. While you were known as an adeptus with a proficiency in healing, that didn’t mean you could heal wounds just like that. Your abilities were more like painkillers than actual healing.
“So you just live here?” Lumine asked curiously. “Sometimes I leave and go out but, why would I do that when I have my whole life right here with me?” you smiled fondly at your children playing. Three boys and two girls. The thought of Xiao having a wife and one child was already a lot to take in for Lumine and Paimon. But five whole kids and the adeptus [name] as his wife?!
You stood from the bench and walked over to your husband and linked arms with him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I trust you both greatly. You’ve seen things with me that no one else has and have helped me and the people of Liyue in so many ways. I will always be in your debt” Xiao spoke earnestly. “Paimon definitely didn’t see you as the type to have a wife and kids” Paimon looked between you and Xiao. “Don’t let him fool you Paimon. I’ve never met a more loving and attentive person in all my life” you tilted your head to kiss his cheek. Xiao’s ears turned a shade of red at the display of affection. “I don’t ‘fool’ people. I just like my privacy” he tried to defend himself. Lumine and Paimon just watched the two of you in awe. They had never seen Xiao so…bashful? The way you were making him blush by simply just expressing your love and appreciation was a side of him they never expected.
“Dad! Dad!” one of the elder boys ran up to Xiao. “Is something the matter Haitao?” Xiao ruffled the boy’s hair. “You have to come look! Qingyuan learned how to do a flip just from watching you!” he tried to pull his father’s free arm. You unlinked your arms and smiled as the boy dragged your husband off down to the others.
You took a seat next to the Traveler again and watched your kids and your husband, “Knowing that Xiao has such good company and allies out there with him brings me so much more peace”. Lumine looked over at you and took note of the loving look in your eye as you watched over him. “He’s a good person. Whether or not he would ever admit that, I’m not so sure. Thank you for being there to remind him of the fact when I can’t” you reached over and fixed a strand of her hair. She wasn’t sure why, but her cheeks heated up at the gesture. It was one thing that you were an adeptus, but you were also absolutely beautiful and the aura you had was borderline intimidating. And yet you were so kind and gentle. “Xiao is amazing! And he’s super reliable. As long as we’re around he’s always gonna have allies!” Paimon reassured with her hands on her hips.
The kids were now finding flowers to put in Xiao’s hair. Xiahui was braiding a small section at the front of his hair while he sat there with your other girl, Chanxin, in his lap. He was helping her braid her hair because she ‘wants to look like her big sis’. “Mommy is going to love your new hair daddy!” Xiahui beamed as she finished the braid. “I’m sure she will sweetie” he smiled fondly at the girl and kissed her forehead. You smiled at the unfolding scene before you, as well as Paimon’s words.
“Good. That makes me happy”
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milksnake-tea · 5 months
Note
hello! congrats on your 1k followers, u deserve it! may i request for dan feng + fluff prompt 9 … maybe smt similar to ur dan feng fic? vidyadhara!reader?
this ask might be late and u don’t need to do the suggestions but i’d like to say that your writing always makes my day, keep it up! 💗 and again, congrats!
thank u!!
❀ ˎˊ- prompts: It's raining outside, and when you see them completely drenched, you immediately offer them shelter. ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: dan feng ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: none !! ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: AIYEEE THIS WAS SO CUTE GOT ME KICKING MY FEET AND ALL <33 also thanks for the congrats !! sorry this was so late lol, i hope the fic makes up for it! also context, dan feng and reader are friends here, but reader is a different reader from under the lotus leaves <3
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Rarely does the Luofu see rain.
As an artificial planet, a man-made home that basked in the light of an artificial sun, the weather was very closely monitored and controlled. For a sudden storm to arrive either meant that someone higher up was having an off day, or the A.I. had decided that perhaps the Luofu was a tad bit dehydrated.
Still, it doesn't make it any less irritating to you, a civilian who wasn't informed of this sudden decision.
You clicked your tongue in annoyance. Of course it had to rain on your day off. You'd planned to have a nice, easy day outside of just strolling through Aurum Alley, but that plan was now out the window.
Oh, well. Nothing you could about it now.
Gripping your grocery bag closer to you, you held your free hand towards the sky. Water swirled around you in a mystical dance, the rain droplets stilling as if frozen in time. Soon enough, an invisible umbrella formed above your head, your hand keeping there in place.
It was times like these that you were grateful for your cloudhymm abilities. You stepped out into the drizzle, perfectly dry amongst the crowd.
As you neared your home, you faltered when you saw an unexpected figure taking shelter under one of the many overhangs.
"Feng'er?"
The man in question flinched upon hearing your voice. Immediately, he turned away, embarrassed to be found in such a disheveled state.
"I... I'm fine," he stuttered. "Just... caught off guard."
You sighed, taking in the sight in front of you. Dan Feng's robes, so pristine and regal, were plastered against his body, soaked beyond what you'd thought was possible. His hair plastered against his skin as he wrung out what he could.
"Feng'er, with all due respect," you stepped closer, "you look anything but fine."
Dan Feng glared at you from the corner of his eye, but you weren't intimidated. You worked in customer service, after all.
You held out a hand. "Come here, my house is nearby. You'll get sick if you stay drenched like that."
Fire swirled in his eyes as he looked at you, wavering between pride and safety. Amongst the pouring rain, that turquoise hue glowed like flames, an ironic contrast to his abilities.
Eventually, his desire to get out of the rain triumphed over his pride. He reluctantly took your hand. You pulled him under your makeshift umbrella, your hand held high above the both of you as you led him to your home.
The walk there was quiet, save for the soft patter of rain and the curses of those caught within it. Left with nothing but your thoughts, your eyes began to wander. Soon, they landed on the hair of the High Elder, still wet and glossy despite Dan Feng's efforts to dry it.
"Hey, Feng'er," you spoke out into the silence, "can I ask something?"
Dan Feng contemplated it for a moment. "You may."
"You also wield cloudhymm. Why not use it to dry yourself off instead of, well..." You didn't need to go on.
The tips of Dan Feng's ears lit up in red. He quickly averted his gaze, but your eyes were quick enough to catch the pink dusting his cheeks.
"I..." He coughed into his fist. "Yingxing, he claimed that I couldn't go a day in my life without using magic."
"Ah." You couldn't help a snicker sneaking out, but you were quick to disguise it as a cough. "Is that right?"
"Yes," Dan Feng sighed in exasperation, crossing his arms. You smiled. His ears seemed to burn brighter now.
"To think you'd take the words of a short-lived so seriously," you mused. "Your stubbornness will be the death of you."
"Better to die than to let that arrogant mortal insult me so carelessly."
"Right, right, of course," you nodded. "We can't let the dignity of the High Elder be tarnished."
You felt a hard blow to your back, not hard enough to hurt you but certainly enough to make you stumble. Looking behind you, you saw Dan Feng's tail dart out of sight.
"Feng'er."
Dan Feng closed his eyes, evidently choosing to block you out. You rolled your eyes.
"Try that again and I'm leaving you next time."
Your friend chuckled.
"No, you love me too much to abandon me."
You kicked him into a puddle.
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reblogs w comments are appreciated !!
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kiss-me-cill-me · 18 days
Note
prof!crane x student!reader
they haven’t fucked in a while because of summer break or something and when they finally see each other again in college reader’s getting attention from a lot of guys and crane gets super jealous something along those lines, i just your imagination more than mine! <3
smut ofc ;)
thank u lovey 💌
Yesssss I love Professor!Crane and I love this idea hehe 👀 I decided to go with one really annoying guy giving reader attention instead of a bunch, because that's just the way the muse ended up taking me. Thank you for requesting, anon, and I hope you enjoy!!
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Independent Variable
Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: After you catch the eye of an unwanted admirer in Dr. Crane's class, your professor happily teaches you a lesson about just who you belong to.
Warnings: Smut, cockwarming, possessiveness, jealousy, harassment (not from Crane, but a pushy student in reader's class), okay Crane is kinda a jerk as well but like when is he not...
A/N: This fic is part of a series of oneshots set in the same AU. However, there is no real plot aside from Crane and the reader being horny, so you can read them in any order, skip around, etc.
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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You tossed a notebook onto your desk, and leaned back down to rustle through your bookbag, looking for a pen. As you did, you felt your dress ride up in the back, but made no move to adjust it.
“Hey,” said a voice behind you.
You shot up quickly and spun around, embarrassment flooding your cheeks at the thought of the unfamiliar man standing there, catching a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have. 
“Is this seat taken?”
Your shoulders relaxed as you got a real look at him. The student in front of you looked like he might have just rolled out of bed, despite the fact that this was a 2pm class. His eyes were half-lidded as he gestured at the seat next to you, and you shook your head with a small, friendly smile.
“No, go ahead,” you replied.
As you both settled into your seats, you reminded yourself to pay more attention to your surroundings. Your thoughts had been wandering, almost without noticing it, to your professor. 
Dr. Crane had been on your mind for the entirety of spring break, and being back in his class now was making it even harder to focus on anything else. 
You snuck a brief look at him now, sitting quietly at the front of the room. He was hunched over, grading a stack of papers while he waited for the rest of your classmates to trickle in. It had been only a little over a week since you’d last seen him - and he had given you quite an intimate send-off to make sure you kept him in mind over spring break. But, unfortunately for you, it had only made sure that you’d had nothing but Dr. Crane on your mind for the whole week. Rather than satisfy you, his extra attention only increased your desire. This was your final class of the day, and you’d made plans to see him right after, as you usually did.
“Hey, did you just transfer into this class?” asked the boy next to you. You swiveled around to face him, slumped in his seat and smiling at you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“No, I’ve been here,” you said curtly, though trying not to let too much annoyance creep into your voice. You weren’t really interested in light conversation, but it wasn’t his fault for trying to be friendly.
“Really,” droned the boy. It was less of a question than an advance. “I woulda thought I’d have noticed someone like you.”
Okay, maybe he was slightly less-than-innocent. And entirely too friendly, if you weren’t just imagining the hint of suggestion in his voice. You pressed your lips into a tight smile, suddenly regretting the fact that you’d let him sit next to you.
“Is this your first class with Professor Crane?” he continued.
“Um, no…” you replied, not really wanting to keep the conversation going, but somehow already too trapped to just ignore him.
“Heh, poor you,” said the boy. “I hear he’s the type that likes to fuck people over.”
You had to bite back a laugh. Somehow you doubted that any of Crane’s other students were getting “fucked over” in exactly the same way you were.
When you glanced over again at your professor, his eyes met yours briefly before darting back down to the stack of papers in front of him. The lingering frost of his stare made your toes curl.
“I like his classes,” you hummed, wary of letting your voice take on too much of the airy, dream-like quality that it often did when you thought about Crane. “I find them… stimulating.”
“Brave girl. You must be smart, huh?”
Before you had a chance to answer, Dr. Crane called the class to attention. As he launched into his welcome-back speech - short and to the point before he got on with the actual lesson - you let out a sigh of relief. You were thankful that this particular awkward interaction would be brief. After this class, you were never going to let this guy sit next to you again.
Ten minutes into the lecture, though, you felt a hand brush over your arm.
“Hey,” breathed the guy, his voice hissing all too close to your ear. “Do you have an eraser? I forgot mine.”
You hummed, too low for him to hear it, but with your teeth grating in anger. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? His hand rested on your arm, and you wanted to pull back and shake it off. Instead, you straightened your back and kept your eyes facing forward.
“No,” you spit back. “I take notes in pen.”
“Ooh, you are smart,” the boy teased, his tone somewhere just past the point of sincere flattery. “Don’t make any mistakes, do you?”
Your teeth mashed together a bit more.
“No wonder you sit in the front row-”
Your one-sided conversation was disrupted, abruptly, by a firm hand slamming down on each desk. You and the boy looked up together, to see Dr. Crane looming over you.
“Is there a problem here?” Crane asked.
“Uhh… no sir,” the boy answered. 
You felt molten heat start to pool in your lap, weaving its way in between your legs. As your eyes trailed up the sleeve of his suit, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself slipping it off of Dr. Crane’s shoulders and throwing it into a corner of the room. This really wasn’t the time or place, much less the ideal situation to be fantasizing in. But the hint of strained possessiveness in his voice had shaken all other thoughts from your head.
“Let’s try to keep personal conversations to a minimum during class,” Crane suggested. He slinked back to his post at the lecturer’s podium.
You almost wanted to fan yourself with your notebook, but resisted the urge. Beside you, the boy let out a petulant grunt, and buried his face in his notes.
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As much as you tried to focus on the lesson, you couldn’t help but notice every time Crane’s eyes strayed over to you, studying and astute. Usually he tried not to be so obvious about it. But you caught him staring at you so many times that you started to feel nervous that the rest of the class would notice it too. Somewhere deep in your chest, the thought made your heart flutter.
Unfortunately, you also noticed the multiple times the boy next to you poked and nudged you - always just subtly enough that you couldn’t call him out. His elbow touched yours as he turned to a new page. His foot drifted over to bump gently against the side of your bag on the floor. It was enough to drive you up a wall, but not enough to make a scene.
When class ended, finally, you all but shoved your notebook into your bag, and shot up from your seat like it was on fire. Somehow, Crane was faster than you, and you caught a glimpse of him slipping out of the room as you hurried to follow after.
“Hey! Wait up,” called the guy sitting next to you.
Shit. Not him again. You walked faster, stepping out into the hallway and darting around other students who were still milling about as you made your way to Crane’s office. You were supposed to meet him there, and you really wished you wouldn’t have an annoying little tagalong with you by the time you arrived.
“Where’re you going?” pestered an all too familiar voice.
You didn’t answer, and kept yourself focused on making it to Crane’s office. The walk wasn’t long, but when you arrived there was no sign of Crane. His door was open, though, and you hurried the last few steps to reach it.
“Hey!” the guy called behind you, again. Couldn't he take a hint?
You felt his hand on your arm, and this time you nearly did yank it away. The sheer shock of being touched stopped you, though, and you whirled around to face him, practically seething. The petulant look on his face fueled your anger, and you opened your venomous mouth to speak just as he interrupted you.
“You’re being so rude!” he complained. “I’m just trying to talk to you.”
That sent your brain for a spin. You were the one being rude? When he had just spent an entire class harassing you? You opened your mouth again, but this time, you didn’t have to speak.
“Have you considered that maybe she just isn’t interested in talking to you?”
You would recognize that slightly smug voice anywhere, and you were incredibly glad to hear it. Instantly, your shoulders relaxed as you looked up to see Crane, a piping hot mug in one hand as he idly bobbed a teabag up and down with the other.
“Wh-what?” the annoying boy stammered. 
“Is something the matter?” Crane continued, not bothering to acknowledge the question. “I can’t say I appreciate you interrupting my lesson with your unfortunate attempt at… well, whatever it is you were trying to do.”
Clearly at a loss, the boy’s grip on your arm weakened as he tried to come up with a response. You tried to keep yourself from smiling. Too obviously, anyway. And just past the point where the silence had started to stretch into hopelessness, Crane spoke again.
“Well. If you wouldn’t mind moving, I have a private tutoring session to attend with your classmate here.” He gestured at you. “And you’re blocking my door.”
The boy stepped back, finally letting go of your arm in the process. His scowl was a poor retort to the authority that Crane seemed to exude even as he took a disinterested sip of his tea. You felt something stir inside you again, and you suddenly couldn’t wait to get behind closed doors with your professor. Not just because it meant getting away from this situation. And certainly not for a tutoring session.
“Thank you,” Crane said politely.
He ushered you into his office, careful not to touch you in any overt ways. But even as his hand lingered a few inches away from the small of your back, you could practically feel the energy passing between you. He was so going to get it as soon as that door was closed.
“And next time,” Crane said, turning briefly to shut the door, “I’m docking five points from your grade for every disruption in class.”
With a quick click, the door closed, and you were finally left alone with your professor. You could hear a harsh swear and the stomp of angry feet in the hallway, as the boy from class sulked away. You smiled, and took a step closer to Crane.
“Thank you,” you sighed. “You have no idea how I-”
You’d started to bring your arms up to wrap loosely around his shoulders, but Crane stopped you before you could, to your surprise. Hooking a finger under your chin, he forced you to stop short and looked at you shrewdly.
“I see you made a new friend over spring break,” he observed.
“Ugh. Yuck - no,” you laughed, still trying to wiggle closer so that you could hug him. “That guy was so annoying.”
“Annoying, hm?” Crane hummed. “Maybe I’ll have to start using assigned seats.”
He dropped your chin, and brushed past you while taking a sip of his tea. As he set the mug down on his desk, you spun around to see him settle into his huge leather office chair. You followed, swaying your hips a bit to tease him.
“Just as long as you keep me in the front row,” you said, half-jokingly. 
“Yes, we wouldn’t want you getting distracted by anyone else, now would we?” Crane droned. 
Before you had a chance to ask what he meant, he looked up and crooked a finger at you, beckoning you to come closer. You did, and just as you came to a stop in front of him, Crane grabbed your wrist.
“Actually, I think I might have to move your seat a bit closer than that,” he mused.
Just as you were about to question what could be closer to him than the front row, he turned you around and pulled you down into his lap, making the hair on the back of your neck bristle as he pressed the side of his face against yours.
“After today, I’m starting to think that I’ll need to keep a closer eye on you,” Crane whispered huskily.
As his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you even closer, you squirmed.
“I wasn’t doing anything, though,” you protested. “It was all him.”
It occurred to you that you didn’t even know the rude boy’s name, and the thought made your cheeks heat up. Would that make Crane more annoyed, or less? He must have seen how bothered you were by the unwanted advances in class. Clearly, he was just teasing you, as he so often loved to do. But… what if he really was jealous, and thought you would flirt with anyone who gave you attention?
Slowly, you became aware of a growing bulge, now pressing up into your thigh. Okay, maybe you liked jealous Crane…
“You don’t really think that anything would happen between me and that guy, do you?” you gasped, playing up the shock in your voice.
You felt your back press fully into his chest as he tightened his arms again, pulling you in.
“Do you know what kind of game you’re playing?” Crane scowled behind you.
You did, and you knew that he knew it, too. Just like you knew he was fully aware that you were only playing dumb. But, that had never stopped either of you from having a bit of fun with it.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you sighed, grinding your hips down as your head leaned back to rest on his shoulder.
“Maybe I’ll have to show you then.”
With that, Crane’s hand pushed up the hem of your skirt, swiftly pressing past the fabric of your panties to rub at your slit.
“You’re wet,” he growled. “This had better be from me.”
You didn’t even try to hide the shiver that moved down your spine and straight to his cock, making your hips twist against him again. The armrests of his chair were the only thing available to brace yourself against, and you clutched at them.
Crane swirled his fingers against you again, his other arm keeping you pinned to his lap, and you lost the fight to hold back a shaky breath.
“Already worked up,” he observed. “Were you even paying attention in class?”
“Y-yes,” you insisted.
“Hm.”
Crane forced his hand into the very limited space between your body and his, quickly freeing himself and pressing his now fully-erect cock in between your legs. As you felt it brush against your thighs, you couldn’t help but buck your hips, trying to get a better angle. Crane stilled you, bringing his lips close to your ear as he held you in place.
“Somehow I doubt you were really focusing on the lecture,” he said. “So, I think you and I will have to go over it again. But first…”
He held your panties to the side, repositioning so he could slide himself fully inside of your cunt. It was embarrassing how easily he was able to - your walls offering hardly any resistance as he pressed in.
“Enjoy your new assigned seat.”
You let out a moan as you started to move up and down, slowly at first to warm up to the stretch of him. Almost as soon as you’d started, though, Crane stopped you, hugging you suffocatingly close so that you couldn’t so much as wiggle your hips.
 “No fidgeting in class,” he warned.
You huffed impatiently; the ache that was steadily growing between your legs only somewhat quelled by the way he filled you.
“But we’re not in class,” you protested.
“Didn’t I just tell you?” Crane hissed. “We’re going back over the material. Now…”
He leaned forward to reach for a textbook on his desk, and the small movement caused him to shift just enough to give you a hint of the stimulation you needed. But too soon, it was gone, and Crane had settled back into his chair with you still trapped on his lap, stretched and desperate for friction.
“Do you remember what today’s lesson was about?” he asked wickedly. “Or was your mind already wandering by the time I started talking?”
It was nearly impossible to focus with his voice dripping into your ear like that, and his cock buried so deep inside of you that you were seeing stars. But, you summoned up every last once of attention you could muster to answer him.
“C-clinical trial procedures for use with SSRIs,” you said, grinding your teeth.
“Hm. It almost seems like you were paying attention.”
“I was,” you agreed, quickly seizing the opportunity. “I even took notes. I can show you-”
“Taking notes just proves you can copy down words from a chalkboard,” he interrupted. “I want to make sure you really absorbed the information.”
He punctuated the word with his hips, thrusting up just enough for you to feel it, but so shallow that you couldn’t enjoy the effects for more than a second. You groaned, and felt Crane’s smirk against the shell of your ear.
“Why don’t we open our books to page three hundred and thirty-eight?” he droned, using the same flat, carefully-recited voice that he always did in class. Hearing it so close to your ear made your walls flutter around him, and Crane tapped a finger impatiently on the textbook in front of you, not letting up.
“Can’t you just fuck me?” you whined, not caring how petulant your voice sounded.
“What makes you think I’m going to do that?”
You wished that you weren’t turned away from him, if only so Crane could see the look of utter disbelief on your face. He was balls-deep inside of you, and asking why you thought he was going to fuck you? As if you were sitting across from each other, having an actual tutoring session, and not nearly cumming around his cock.
If only he would let you move.
As you sighed with frustration, an idea came to you. There was one way you could torture him back.
You flexed your muscles, staying perfectly still while your walls squeezed his whole length. You thought you felt him twitch slightly, just a little involuntary movement. But it was hard to tell when your mind was already filling up with thoughts of the way he was sure to bend you over his desk and thoroughly destroy you once you had given him enough incentive.
“C’mon,” you sighed. “Why hold back when you’re obviously dying to make me remember whose cock makes me fall apart? You’re so jealous.”
The smug smile was quickly wiped off your face as Crane’s hands tightened around your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh.
“You think I’m jealous?”
He roughly swirled your hips, not giving you nearly enough friction, but still making you cry out. You wanted to scream for him to touch your clit, move you up and down - do anything. The torture of feeling him inside you, stretching you out with so little movement, was making your whole body burn. And most of the heat was starting to focus right between your legs, on the neglected bundle of nerves that was begging for attention.
“You think it drives me insane to watch someone else touch you?” He moved your hips again, and you felt a sharp pang of frustration. “That I don’t like it when someone else tries to take what’s mine?”
His last word was practically a growl, and you felt yourself clench again, not on purpose this time. The low hiss of his voice in your ear was almost enough to make you come undone, if only he would give you even the briefest hint of physical stimulation where you needed it.
You focused on squeezing him again, rubbing your legs together as much as you could.
“Don’t make me beg,” you pleaded.
“Oh no, sweetheart - you don’t have to beg. Like you said, I’m going to show you just who you belong to.”
With that, Crane’s hips shot up as he bit down harshly on the lobe of your ear. You were shocked to feel warmth spreading deep inside of you - you hadn’t even realized he was close. As he pressed deeper, one of his hands came up to squeeze roughly at your breast, and your mouth fell open.
You sat there together for a moment, Crane breathing a bit more heavily than he had been a few seconds ago. Eventually, you made a move to get up.
“I can’t believe you’re so petty,” you started.
Before you could stand up more than a fraction of an inch, Crane’s hold tightened on you again.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
“To clean up.” 
You could feel his cum starting to leak out of you slowly. It dripped down the shaft of his cock, still buried inside you and keeping most of the mess contained.
“I don’t think so,” he said, calmly. He pulled you back, pinning you right where you had been before. “You’re staying right here until we’ve gone over the lesson. And if you still can’t pay attention…” He swirled your hips again in that deliciously infuriating way. “Then I guess we’ll be here for a very long time.”
“You’re infuriating,” you sighed. “I didn’t even do anything wrong!”
“What a shame. Now, where were we?”
As Crane reached forward again to open the textbook, his still-hard cock brushed against your slick walls. You tried to hold back the moan that escaped your lips, but you could feel every inch of him still inside you, and it was no use trying to stop yourself.
Crane brought his lips to your ear as he started to lecture, and you shivered.
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