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#I might start an ask blog to do with my au
jam-showtoonz · 1 month
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So I was drawing (my au) Solar and I decided to add Jack bc why not-
The thing is I want to give Jack a stuffed toy (probably given to him by Solar to destroy but he didn’t so Solar just lets him keep it) but I have no idea what to make it- so I’m asking for help!
Here’s the drawing I’m making- (also this is my first time drawing Jack.)
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ask-that-weird-dog · 2 months
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Kris. Kris. Kris. Of the two, do you prefer moss or potassium more?
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* (You get the feeling this is about to be a very, very weird day.)
<< PREVIOUS || MASTERPOST ||
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how do people do little comic things. this shits impossible lmao
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kingprinceleo · 1 year
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larrycommitsarson · 8 months
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Guess who made another Cometkid and made him essentially a Cometcare self insert? That's right gamers, it's me
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Honestly if it weren't for the fact I'm not very good at setting up side blogs and shit I would make an ask blog for all my Cometkids (I've currently only gotten eleven in total, and that's just how far I've gotten right now)
So yeah prepare for most of my posts to be about whenever I finish my Cometkids lol
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thehappiestgolucky · 1 year
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wait if you’re one of us…how’s your work going?!?
—icky
.
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back2bluesidex · 8 months
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Bad Idea - JJK (18+)
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Pairing: Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: PWP, SMUT, Fluff, established relationship au
Wordcount: 1.4k+
Summary: Accepting Jungkook's invitation to watch him train topless was such a bad idea.
Warnings: Rough sex, sex on a bathroom counter, doggy style, Jungkook is jealous, name calling, little bit of degrading, Jungkook cums on her ass, reader is kinky about Jungkook's back, unprotected sex (wrap it up). NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: Sorry but I couldn't help.
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It was a bad idea. 
Accepting Jungkook’s invitation to watch him train was a bad, actually very bad, idea. Because now you are having to clench your thighs tightly thinking of the feeling that you might feel by raking your nails through Jungkook’s toned, thick, manly back. 
You adjust your position in the seat a bit, rubbing your core on the leather of the seat cover in the process. 
This is just pathetic. 
Rubbing yourself off (with the help of inanimate objects) while watching your own boyfriend and being unable to do anything about it, is just so pathetic. 
You gulp your own drool each time Jungkook’s muscles flex. Fuck. This is getting unbearable. 
“He’s sexy, isn’t he?” One of Jungkook’s trainers comes out of nowhere and takes the seat beside you. 
“I - What? Excuse me?” You don’t know what to reply, especially when he is complimenting your boyfriend, who is indeed very sexy. 
“I said Jungkook is sexy.” He smirks at you. 
“Oh yeah. That he is.” You turn your face towards your boyfriend again. He still has his back turned towards you. But your eyes met his, through the mirror. 
“That’s why he has such a sexy girlfriend all for himself.” the man chuckles in a low voice. 
What the fuck. Who is he after? You or Jungkook?
“Who are you after Mister? Me or him?” You raise one of your eyebrows at him. 
“Maybe both of you?” he replies nonchalantly. 
“What-” you start to speak but get cut off instantly. 
“Hey babe. Could you please help me a little?” Jungkook stands right in front of you with his sweaty half naked body glistening under the white light of the gym. 
You smile up at him understanding that he is here for your rescue. But fuck. You probably thought too soon cause his eyes are darker and there is a tick in his jaw. 
You gulp again. 
“Sure. Tell me what can I do?” you mutter, standing up from the seat. 
“Follow me.” he says with a voice a few octaves lower than his usual one. 
So you do what fits best for you. You follow him. 
“Can you take one of the damp towels and wipe my back?” Jungkook should be requesting you but the tension in his voice makes the sentence sound more like an order. 
You take the said object and walk towards the restroom counter where he is leaning forward to give you a good access to his back. 
“What’s wrong? Why do you sound so mad?” You whisper, wiping a strip of his back. 
That fucking back again. Your thighs rub against each other without you noticing. 
“He was flirting with you.” Your boyfriend growls. 
“He was complimenting you. Umm… actually both of us.” You keep on wiping the sweat off of his back. 
“What did he say?” Jungkook asks, his eyes meet you through the mirror again. 
“He said both of us are sexy and he is after both of us.” you gulp, yet again. 
Before you can register what is happening, Jungkook spins on his heels, holds you by your waist and interchanges your positions. So now you are pressed against the bathroom counter and his body is towering yours. 
“He has been eyeing you since the moment you walked in. That fucker thinks I have not noiticed. I gotta tell him who you belong to.” His right hand travels south and grabs your ass harshly. You wince a little at the impact. 
“He has been eyeing you too.” you murmur. 
He smirks, “Mark me then. Tell him that I am only yours.” 
The offer is tempting indeed and you can’t help but fantasize about scratching that back of his. So you quit waiting and crash your lips on his. 
Jungkook kisses you back immediately. He sucks your lips so hard that you fear they might bruise afterwards. His tongue pokes inside your mouth in order to taste you more deeply. 
Granting him access, you warp your hands around his midsection. 
His back is so toned, yet so soft that your nails dig into it in their own accord. 
Jungkook groans into your mouth clearly being satisfied with your scratches. 
He detaches his mouth from yours, a string of saliva connects two of you now. “You think I didn’t see you trying to rub that cunt on the seat? Huh? You dirty little girl.” 
“Not my fault when you have 90% of your body on display like that.” you fight back. 
Jungkook chuckles, “Then why don’t you take the rest of the 10% too? Hmm?” 
His hand leaves your ass and reaches for your exposed inner thigh. It dives down into your skirt without any warning and heads for your clit. 
Jungkook hisses, finding you very wet already. He rubs your clit through the thin material of your panties, arousing you even more. You tilt your head back in pleasure and Jungkook takes the chance to paint bruises all over your neck and collarbone. 
You moan his name as he bits down on the crook of your neck. His fingers slide through the seam of your panties and poke into your entrance. 
You roll your hip to reach out for his teasing fingers and hit his growing bulge with your upper belly in the process. 
“Fuck, Y/N” Jungkook groans “I need to be inside you.” 
You nod somehow, “me too. Fuck. I need you too.” 
“Turn around for me.” he commands and you comply without wasting any time. 
Jungkook pushes your face down on the counter by placing a hand on your neck and holds your waist to still you with another. Once he is satisfied with your position, he hooks two of his fingers on the waistband on your panties and pulls that down. The article of cloth pools down on your ankes and you kick that off readily. 
He hikes your skirt, exposing your ass. 
“God, I love this booty.” A slap lands on your right asscheek without any warning. 
“Ahhh fuck-” You wince in pain mixed pleasure. Jungkook parts your legs and spreads them open. His tattooed arm rests on your ass and the other one tugs his shorts and boxers down revealing his erection. 
Oh how you wish you could see Jungkook right now but the way you are positioned, makes it impossible even to take a look through the bathroom mirror. 
Jungkook pumps his length once and then pushes the head of his cock into your slit. The tip brushes through your clit making you moan several incoherent words. 
“Are you ready to take me in, babygirl?” he asks, rubbing your clit with his tip once more. You nod urgently. 
He collects some of your slick on his tip before pushing his length into your hot, wet core. Once he is midway in there, he pulls his cock back out and slams it all in one go. 
Your body jerks up with the sheer force he has put into his action. 
“Can I move now?” Jungkook whispers into your ear, reaching down to your face and placing a kiss on your temple. 
“Y-yes pl-please.” you manage to reply. 
Jungkook starts moving slowly but he soon takes up an erratic pace. His pelvic area slams into your ass with each thrust he forces into you. 
“Fuck f-fuck Jungkoo- feels s-so good.” you drool on the counter. 
“Yeah? My cock feels good? That’s why you suck it so well, you dirty bitch?” Jungkook’s hoarse voice only adds up to your pleasure by tenfold. And naturally, you feel yourself getting close.
“Gonna c-cum.” you announce. 
“Cum on my cock pretty girl.” Jungkook’s fingers find your clit as he starts rubbing figure eight vigorously. 
“Fuck fuck fuck” and with that you cum on his cock. 
Your legs feel like jelly, you know they might give out at any second. Probably jungkook knows that too, hence, he wraps his tattooed arm around your waist and fucks you into overstimulation. 
Once his thrusts loose rhythm, you feel him twitching inside you. 
“Fuck. We are not using condoms.” Jungkook groans. He pulls is cock out of your hole, jerks it once and cums all over your ass. 
His thick whiteness drips down your ass and thigh. Some spills on the floor, some drops down on your snickers and some gets soaked by your socks. 
Jungkook cleans up both of you, tugs himself back into his boxers and shorts and then helps you in getting into your underwear like the good boyfriend that he is. 
“Let’s go home.” He pulls you into his embrace and kisses the top of your head. 
“Yeah but you will have to carry me ‘cause I don’t think I can walk.” both of you chuckle heading for the door.
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Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae
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tteokdoroki · 4 months
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THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.
✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )
✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending  - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.
✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
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my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel?  TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back. 
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you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.
to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.
one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work. 
that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.
but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him. 
the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much. 
he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think. 
there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.
the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.
nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together. 
especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.
still, nanami stayed. 
and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window. 
you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick. 
you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.
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ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY. 
satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace. 
with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious. 
ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami. 
like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time. 
you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you. 
taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.
if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute. 
“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk. 
you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.
nanami likes you. 
and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?
he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?” 
the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol. 
“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.”  the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.” 
nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”
“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him. 
but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.” 
you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“ 
“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”
both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.
“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.” 
“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.” 
“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper. 
nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?” 
having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!” 
“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.
 “then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.” 
the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?” 
you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.” 
“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”
“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…” 
“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin. 
gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”
nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles. 
“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.
your kiss under the mistletoe. 
once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo,  kids,”  he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy. 
leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss. 
you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.
“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss. 
the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami. 
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ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.
“good morning, kento!”
“good morning to you too,” 
bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event. 
picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.
one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office. 
and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia. 
now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper. 
“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time. 
he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.
“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.
after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.
elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you —  happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents. 
“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.  
the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home. 
the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to. 
there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.
your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift. 
he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you. 
you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him? 
“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.
“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.” 
you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.” 
“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves  friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“
“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.” 
“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”
“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.” 
“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle. 
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ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.
as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.
satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly —  his staff.
which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions. 
of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays. 
you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all. 
when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.
rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.
“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.” 
“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice. 
he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?
despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“
“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as  just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?” 
you blink back your suprise. “w-what?” 
“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”
“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.” 
“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.” 
your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?” 
“pardon?” 
“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.
you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.
…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up. 
“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.” 
he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”
the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?” 
he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady. 
nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart. 
“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.” 
still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”
“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“ 
“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.” 
your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve. 
after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple. 
somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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whalesforhands · 9 months
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Please please satosugu sharing y/n giving her load after load
sometimes asks like this remind me i’m supposed to be an 18+ blog. i can feel my future self regretting adding to the growing amt of stsg porn in the tags
warnings: bully au, unprotected p in v, fem!reader, established satosugu bcs i love them, dubcon, obsessiveness but it’s the bad kind, minors DNI istg i will quit writing forever and take this blog down with me
“W-wait…!” You’re already crying, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder as the other plants itself on his hip, attempting to stop his movements and your further descent into overstimulation.
“I-I need a break…” You’re panting, breathless and boneless as the sweat on your body and haziness of your brain finally starts getting to you,
“Ehhh?” Gojo’s pulling you in closer by your waist when he feels you try to buck your hips away, sheathing his hard cock deep back inside your weeping hole as you let out a whine at the sensation.
He’s too spoiled. Too mean to let you go now.
“You tired? Want a break?” He’s leaning forward, blue eyes and cute pout all up in your face when he feels you clench tighter around him.
You nod fervently, teary gaze and gem-like eyes pointed towards him, letting him intertwine his big hands with yours oh so intimately. As if he loves you, as if he sees you as more than just his bedwarmer. He’s finally showing you mercy.
He slows to a stop, finally letting you take a shaky breath in before he pulls out all the way, a combination of Geto’s and his own spend starting to leak out. He leaves only the head of his pretty cock notching itself at your entrance, letting you relax into the bed and seeing your shoulders begin to droop from sheer exhaustion.
Before he rams the entirety of it back in, ignoring your squeals and squirms, your cries of pained pleasure.
“N-no!” Thrust. “G-gojo please!” Thrust. You’re starting to cry again, hold on his hands letting go to push at his chest lightly, the pleasure and lust overtaking your overtaxed body.
“Just kidding~, whores like you should just sit there and take cocks in this tight cunt of yours like an obedient slut.”
Suguru’s been watching all this while as he watches his boyfriend have his way with you, his hand vigorously stroking his own phallus, watching intently as your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, tongue beginning to loll out as Satoru’s unrelenting pace fucked you stupid.
“Hey, pull out. I’m gonna cum.” His hand is holding onto his painfully hard cock as he watches the way your tears fall, your sweaty face streaked in your overstimulated pleasure and helplessness as you simply take what you’re given.
He wants to add to your ruin.
“Hah? Just do it on her somewhere, I’m busy.” Gojo accentuated his words with a harsh buck of his hips, using a hand to hold both of yours down as the other rubs at your quivering clit.
His thrusts are speeding up, your whines and moans echoing throughout his bedroom as you cry and cry and cry, reaching your climax for the nth time that night, cumming onto his already drenched cock.
He lets out a pleasured grunt, “You fucking slut…!” His words are barely breathed out as he starts to cum, spurts of familiar white hot liquid making you twitch as you let out a quiet moan at the sensation, your legs thrown over his shoulders as you tremble and shake.
It’s finally over, right? But… he’s not pulling out, only reaching a hand up to your cheek to pat your worn out self as he grins, wrapping your legs around his waist as he starts to pick you up.
When… Did Suguru get behind you?
“If you’re not gonna pull out, I might as well join in, shouldn’t I?”
You feel a prodding at your already abused hole, a second cock sliding inbetween your filled pussy and against Satoru’s now sensitive dick.
Oh no.
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okwonyo · 2 months
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meeting you at a fansign.
ᙏ̤̫ ⠀엔하이픈 ♡ female reader & idol au fluff potential future relationship + cw. not-proofread skinship flirting 0.6k | ( bookshelf )
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heeseung would be at loss for words, eyes growing wide when they land on you; are you even real? fixing his posture so he’d be a little bit more charming, as if he’d not be already, he’d look up to you with pure amazement as you sit on the chair in front of him. he’d be the type to act as if he doesn’t hear you— just so he can lean toward you and you’d lean his way as well, a ‘you are pretty’ might slip out his mouth, and you’d chuckle as if you’d be sharing some secrets.
jongseong would talk to you in such a soft tone, with such a soft and reassuring smile that all your stress and awkwardness would evaporate.. he’d make sure to make you comfortable; that’s why his voice would be so tender— you’d, overall, just bring out his soft side and that’s why he’d like you a lot. hand absentmindedly finding yours as you’d tell him more about you, thumb rubbing your skin in a heart swelling mention; and so soft spoken... “hope i’ll see you again” he’d tell you when you have to leave, ...ah.
jaeyun would, for sure, be eyeing you a little even before his turn comes; his eyes would have lay on you for a slit second and wouldn’t be able to look away. cupid would walk through and shoot an arrow to his heart as soon as your gaze meets his. cute smile mirroring his growing adoration for you; he’d be too hang on your mouth, thirsty for your words and capturing every glimpse he can have of you. he’d squeeze your hand when you get up, “i miss you already,” he’d half joke.
sunghoon would notice you from the audience— amazed; because can someone be this ethereal. your beauty would whiplash him when you sit in front of him, he’d be a bit awkward at first: stumbling over his word and stuttering a bit as he talks to you.. but, then you’d ask to hold his hand, a wave of relief and comfort would suddenly wash over him. he’d smile to you so softly and start asking questions about your interests and things as such. he’d have sad eyes when you leave him...
seonwoo would be welcoming; so sweet as he talks to you, he’d want to know everything about you and would be genuinely amazed at every words that fall out of your mouth; you are pretty girl, with good interests and also very nice? oh well, you are soon to be his girlfriend.. a blooming flush would start to appear on his cute face when you’d compliment him, he’d make a little sad face when you’d shift to the next member.
jungwon would shower you in compliments; he’d be such a tease and he’d become addicted to the way your cheeks get pinker the more he compliments you.. his hand would slip in yours as he’d tell you how beautiful your name his, interlocking your fingers whereupon he’d say that he likes your hairstyle and would lean towards you as he’d say how petty of a girl you are. a cute grin would be drawn on his face during the entirety of the interaction; he’d shake your interlocked hands when you tell him goodbye...
riki would be a bit shy at the beginning, avoiding your eyes and giggling softly as he’d do so. you are just breathtaking and he doesn’t know if he has it in him to talk to you! but after a few jokes, he’d get more comfortable— although, a tad more giggly than before. he’d smile shyly when you compared hand size and, would even let you put cute accessories in his hair; such as sanrio hairpins! he’d not take them after >< “don’t forget about me!” he’d tell you as you leave, and he’d blush when you giggle.
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...my apologies; i post too much ㅜㅜ
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taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @nwjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @hsgpoet @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @sulkygyu @byhees @okwons @jwnghyuns @sleepyxxhead @baevsxii @nxzz-skz @who-tf-soddhi @armydrcamers @yeonzzzzs
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toxicanonymity · 4 months
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twin peaks.
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4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. Finished & "edited" on covid & meds, fck it we ball! BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol)  a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog
dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump
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“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles. 
Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.” 
“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”
The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.
“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.
“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters. 
“Really?” Tommy asks. 
“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.” 
“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen. 
-
A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach. 
“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face. 
“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically. 
“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”
“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”
“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”
You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.
“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles. 
“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains. 
“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows. 
Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.
“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment. 
“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen. 
“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”
“We’ll see.”
-
The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room. 
Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”
“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.
Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”
“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”
“My new friend?” 
“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.
“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?” 
“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.” 
“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself. 
“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair. 
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—---you—--
Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink. 
When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks.  “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”
“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully. 
“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink. 
One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo.  You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back. 
Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.” 
Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond. 
“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”
“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him. 
“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.
“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal. 
Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself. 
“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”
-. . .-
Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you. 
Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile. 
“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours. 
You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room. 
“You okay?” Joel searches your face. 
You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.  
“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”
Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice. 
“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.
“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads.  There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel
“NO,” Joel barks. 
-
Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer.  You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”
You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief.  Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.” 
You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.” 
“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats. 
You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle.  That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close. 
“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves. 
You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less? 
-
Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door. 
“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth. 
You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean. 
He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.
Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.
“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.
 “Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?” 
You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts.  “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper
“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time. 
“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”
Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door. 
“Wait,” you whisper.”
“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you. 
You shake your head no. 
“Good,” he whispers. 
Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede. 
“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?” 
“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him. 
Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls. 
“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.” 
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---a few weeks later—
"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.
"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.
"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."
"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.
"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts. 
"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"
He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."
You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.  
"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way." 
"Oh yeah?"
Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up. 
"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."
"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs. 
You look away shyly.
"What's got you all flustered?" 
"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.' 
Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."
"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls. 
"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."
You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.” 
Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?” 
Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth. 
“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”
“Joel!" You gently smack his chest. 
“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.” 
"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own. 
----
When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing. 
“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back. 
“You were serious?” you ask. 
“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.” 
Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.” 
Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth. 
Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.” 
You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria. 
“Where ya want us?” Joel asks. 
“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies. 
Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”
“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck. 
-
In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”
You nod and smile. 
“Ready to be even more comfortable?” 
Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal. 
With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.” 
You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans. 
“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear. 
“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel. 
You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”
You nod, “Yeah.” 
“He’s ready too.”
Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel. 
“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam.  You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so.  His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.
“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes. 
“Take’ him so well,” Tommy  whispers. 
Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs  you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches. 
You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”
“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”
You whimper and nod. 
“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers. 
“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees. 
Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and  Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan. 
“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down. 
Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs. 
“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.
You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front. 
===
Thank you for reading!
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eoieopda · 11 months
Text
the one with mingyu and the twin bed
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summary: you brought your boyfriend to your parents’ house for christmas dinner. he can’t get a grip because you can’t keep yours to yourself. pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader type: drabble (smut) | rating: 18+ | wc: 3.5k au: est. relationship, home for the holidays cw: teasing, teasing, teasing; unprotected sex; mingyu is a pouty lil simp; multiple orgasms; reader rides it like she stole it and has to keep him quiet in the process :’) a/n: nobody asked, i just have mingyu brain rot 🥲 🚨 MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS WHO INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED. MY WORK IS NOT FOR YOU.
You might kill him. And really, if that’s not your goal, it’s still the most likely result. This road you’ve chosen starts with a squeeze of his knee under the table, travels up his thigh and — well, Mingyu can imagine how it ends, but not when or where. That’s the problem.
Well, that’s the primary problem. 
The worst part about it all is that you look so unbothered by it all. You’re laughing through conversation with your parents, who sit on the opposite side of the table, like Mingyu isn’t on the brink of passing the fuck out beside you. Like his slacks aren’t squeezing the life out of him in the same torturous way your hand is. 
You’re moving so slowly that the table cloth doesn’t even flutter with your secret ministrations.
He knew you were a devil, but what fresh hell is this?
“— feeling okay?”
Mingyu has to blink himself back into reality to realize he’d been spoken to. Your father, who Mingyu had thankfully met before tonight — and made a positive, sustainable first impression on — looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow the same way yours do when you’re worried.
“Sorry,��� Mingyu starts by clearing his throat. He flashes a smile that makes your mother blush, not unlike the way you usually do. “I was daydreaming about that galbi jjim from earlier. Don’t know if I’ll ever eat better.”
That’s a lie, he thinks immediately. Dessert is one seat over, fingertips whispering over his inseam, and Mingyu’s mouth is already watering at the thought. But he’s stuck. You’re untouchable as long as the pair of you are at this table, and you’re untouchable upstairs for more reasons than one. 
Your mother is flustered — so is Mingyu, but for an entirely different reason — and she glances up at your father. His smile is a flat line, but it reads like approval. She elbows him gently.
“See, yeobo?” She quips, “I told you he was charming.” 
Then, she turns to look at you with a firm nod. “You picked well.”
“To be clear, Mingyu picked me,” You laugh, waving your free hand dismissively.  “With the amount of girls queuing up for his attention, he had options — a lot of them. I just lucked out.”
At this, he short-circuits, so much so that he nearly sprays the wine he’s sipping all over the table and your unsuspecting parents. 
“Oh, no, no. Not even close,” He sputters, earning a surprised giggle from your mother. Faked offense pulls the corners of his mouth down, puckers his lips into an pout around his words. “I had to beg for your phone number, if I recall —”
“Did you really?” Your mother gasps. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, as if she’s watching one of the daytime dramas she’s always talking about.
Your father looks smug as he reaches his arm out over the table, fingers closed over his palm. The hand you aren’t using to commit unspeakable crimes lifts to meet his fist over the acorn jelly, knuckles tapping lightly. 
Your father smirks, “That’s my girl.”
You look at Mingyu fully now, not from the corner of your eye the way you had been. It’s downright spooky how your face can look that innocent at a time like this. That is, until you bite down on your plush lower lip.
Fuck.
Is he about to faint? He really might faint.
“Okay, fine. You’re right,” You demur with a shrug.
That sweet smile of yours is unbelievably misleading, but goddamn, does it look good on you.
“I didn’t make it very easy for you, did I?” 
He tries not to clench his jaw when you flatten your palm and squeeze the highest, innermost part of his thigh. He fails miserably. After all, you’re running out of real estate; and Mingyu’s running out of resolve. 
This is it for me, he thinks. Remember me as I was: a fucking simp.
Thankfully, both of your parents stand up to carry dishes off to be washed. They cross the threshold into the kitchen and miss the way Mingyu’s head slumps back against his chair. So desperate and defeated, he ignores the way his skull aches after colliding with the oak backrest.
He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the sweet release of death.
When their footfalls are no longer audible, Mingyu assumes they’re out of sight. You shift, but he doesn’t crack his eyes open until he feels the heat of your breath on the shell of his ear. His gaze locks on the ceiling when you whisper, “Can you blame me? It’s so cute when you beg.”
If his dick strains any harder against his pants, the zipper may break.
“You’re trying to kill me,” Mingyu gulps. He shakes his head, voice wavering. “Baby, I’m gonna drop dead in your childhood home — on Christmas, no less — and it’s gonna be all your fault.”
The tip of your nose nudges the side of his face as you place a kiss on his earlobe. The white knuckle grip he holds on the edge of the table is the only thing keeping him together, and you know it. Still, the feather-light touch of your fingertips finds what it’s after. They trace the outline of his bulge through his slacks, and before he can stop himself, Mingyu audibly sighs.
He’d tell you to stop if he could jumpstart his brain. That’s a lie, he corrects himself. He doesn’t want you to stop; he just wants you. Wants you so badly that it hurts.
“Attempted murder,” Mingyu mumbles helplessly.
God, he’s pathetic.
Head slumped to the side, he finally allows himself to look at you. Immediately, he has to wonder: is there anyone who wouldn’t beg for you? He’d be on his knees in a heartbeat if your parents weren’t loading a dishwasher, several meters away. He’d clear the table himself, too,  if sweeping his arm overtop and sending silverware to the ground counted for anything.
Unbothered by the internal crisis you’ve started in him, you stroke him slowly, like you have all the time in the world to end him; and not a care at all that you might get caught in the process. The kiss you leave on his jaw is so soft — and so laughably chaste, all things considered — that he’s not sure it even happened. To keep from pleading out loud, he grinds his teeth even more harshly together.
Are you there, God? It’s me, Mingyu.
His prayers are answered immediately, which makes him a little bit suspicious — and a lot more feral.
You hum, amusement downright musical, and he shivers. “I’m going to help them finish down here. Wait for me upstairs?”
When Mingyu shoots up to his feet, the force of his thighs against the underside of the table threatens to flip it. The remaining wine glasses wobble in place, but thankfully, you’d all killed the bottle some time ago; no drop is left to be spilled. He still cringes at the close call, though. With a grimace, he mutters rapid-fire apologies — whether to you, the glassware, or the God of Dirty Thoughts, he’s not sure. 
You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from laughing, which Mingyu appreciates. His clumsiness would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t so incomprehensibly horny. All that blood flow has been redirected away from his brain, though, and his dirty mind can’t focus on how not cool he’s being about all of this. 
Just you, that little smirk on your lips, and the million ways he wants your mouth on him.
Once he steadies himself, it only takes a second for Mingyu to race towards the stairs. Any and all chill he might’ve had is left behind him in a cloud of dust.
It’s downright cartoonish, the way he scrambles up the steps — stumbling, knees colliding with the hardwood as he goes — but it’s effective. He reaches the landing in record time, then all but kicks open the door to your childhood bedroom. As soon as the doorknob collides with the wall behind it, Mingyu freezes in place.
That wall, he realizes, is the only barrier between your room and your parents’. Worse, your old bed is set longways against that very wall. And because the hits just keep on coming, it’s a twin bed. 
With a frilly purple duvet and shockingly minimal surface area, no less.
Horrified, Mingyu steps forward and places his hand flat against the small mattress. It doesn’t take much pressure to make the bed springs squeak — when has anything ever gone his way? — and that revelation nearly has him screaming obscenities at the ceiling.
Fuck. 
Fuck. 
How is he supposed to fuck you under these conditions?
Frantic, he closes the door behind him, shuffles forward, and drops to his knees next to the bed. At his height, the frame barely reaches his midriff. Clearly, his life is a fucking joke.
Elbows now resting on the mattress, Mingyu clasps his hands together and leans forward to rest his forehead against his knuckles.
He’s never tried this before — not earnestly, anyway — and he doesn’t know where to start. Whatever the reason, he’s sure he can’t pray to any listening deity to let him get his dick wet. Anyone who hears his cry would smite him on the spot, he thinks, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Before he can settle on a prayer, footsteps sound off on the stairs just outside the door. The words are muffled; but there are multiple voices, which tells him that one or both of your parents have joined you on your journey upstairs. Suddenly, Mingyu is overcome with guilt. 
He’s in their home, having eaten their food — and now he’s a full-blown heretic, wanting nothing more than to devour their daughter like a man starved. But he can’t because, if he does, they’ll hear every dirty detail and —
Mingyu is many things, but he is not quiet.
You are, however, and he can barely make it out when you say, “Thank you, again, for dinner. And for letting us stay overnight.”
“Oh, don’t you dare!” Your mother peeps. Mingyu freezes, knowing in the rational part of his brain she can’t see him, but unable to stop himself. “It’s our pleasure! Really, it’s a long drive back for you two —”
Your father interjects, “— and Mingyu must be exhausted if he’s already in bed.”
For personal reasons, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut, I will be passing away.
There’s a moment of silence in which you must be hugging your parents goodnight, then there’s the quiet creak of the door opening. Footsteps, then more silence — you pausing for a moment, likely taking in the sight of him, then the door shutting softly behind you.
He can’t hear your approach over the hammering pulse in his ears, but he can feel the warmth of your body when you stand closely behind him. On instinct, he leans back onto his heels. A reflex of your own, you card your fingers through his hair and turn him into putty.
As embarrassing as it is to reckon with the fact, Mingyu acknowledges that the massage of your fingers might make him cum in his trousers.
“Were you praying?” You whisper, giggle evident despite the hushed tone. Your fingernails rake gently over his scalp; he swallows hard.
Mingyu is past the point of attempting nonchalance, so he confesses immediately. “Need divine intervention at a time like this. A twin bed? Parents? I’m doomed.”
“Maybe.” You lean down over his shoulder to purr into his ear. “Doomed or not, you look so perfect on your knees.”
That comment reverberates down his spine, ricochets off every vertebrae as it goes. He has to bite down on his fist to keep from groaning. It sure as shit doesn’t stop his eyes from rolling back in his head.
You drop your hand from his hair to trail your fingers down the length of his neck, then across the top of his shoulder. As you do, you step out from behind him and into his line of sight. You, illuminated only by a small, butterfly-shaped lamp, confirm his suspicions:
Ariana Grande was right all along. God is a woman.
You maintain eye contact as you reach behind your back and begin unzipping your dress. The burgundy fabric pools at your bare feet, having slipped right over the silkiness of your thighs without issue. If he wasn’t already in his knees, Mingyu would’ve dropped the same way.
“How confident are you that you can be quiet?” You ask softly. “Stakes are high, and you’re normally so vocal.”
Right out of the gate, he trips.
Mingyu responds with bravado and without whispering, “I can do it.”
Then, he slaps his hand over his big fucking mouth.
Biting back a smile, you reach out for the collar of his shirt. The buttons are undone with care, like any and every decibel is too much of a risk. You hum as you continue your work, “We can make it a challenge, then. If you can stay quiet, I’ll let you cum.” 
He lets you slide his shirt off his frame as soon as you’re finished with it. It lands where your dress did, wrinkling white on top of red.
“If you can’t  —” You pause and gesture down to his belt buckle, which he’s already gripping tightly to. It’s undone before you can blink, which causes the side of your mouth to twitch upwards. “— I’ll stop.”
Mingyu nods, more determined than he’s ever been, and pushes himself to his feet. Less nimbly than you, he fumbles desperately with the button and zipper at the top of his trousers. Eventually, he frees himself and they drop, too. They land with a muffled sound before being kicked blindly aside.
Your gaze drops to his briefs, pupils dilating when you see the mess you’ve made of him. The dark grey fabric is close to black at the tip of his dick, arousal seeping into the fibers and tattling on him. That is, if the blatantly thick imprint of his length hadn’t sold him out already.
His knees threaten to buckle all over again when he sees a flash of pink swipe over your lips, wetting them as your eyes grow even darker.
No, he really might cum on the spot.
You step over your discarded clothes. Closing the distance, you flatten your palms against his bare chest, push up on your toes, and kiss him properly for the first time in hours. His only instinct is to whine like a fucking baby when his lips part and you lick into his mouth, but he refuses to break this close to the starting whistle.
No, Mingyu will keep his shit together. He has to keep his shit together — even as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth and release it swollen with a pop.
“What do you want, baby?”
He doesn’t know if it’s his chest or your hands that are burning up, but a wildfire spreads as you run your palms down from his pectorals to his abdomen. Every muscle in his body tenses as your touch lowers. His lungs seem to, too, because he struggles to keep his breaths even.
Your fingers hook under the waistband of his briefs, knuckles tickling against the sensitive skin underneath his hip bones. You continue your questioning, as if he trusts himself to answer.
“My mouth?”
Oh god.
He wants it all, always and every which way, but he knows he won’t last a goddamn second in your throat — and you know it, too, even before he furiously shakes his head. 
Eyes laser focused on you, he does his best to beg without words. The puppy-dog eyes win you over every time.
When you smile at him like that — petal soft, still so devilish — he audibly sighs. There’s no helping him, he knows it. It’s a reflex, a rubber mallet to the knee. Thankfully, you let that breathy concession slide; let his briefs slide, too, until they drop unwanted around his ankles.
Mingyu is so hard that it hurts.
He’s a throbbing, leaking mess when your hand finally — fucking finally — wraps around his cock. Experimentally, you give him a light squeeze while you work the length. Your gaze flicks upwards to gauge his reaction, wrist rolling when you reach the crown.
If he had to guess, Mingyu would bet that he’s turned purple with the effort it’s taking to keep his needy mouth shut. But your eyes twinkle up at him and you tell him that he’s beautiful; and suddenly, his chest and cheeks go a shy shade of pink.
“Lay down, pretty boy,” you whisper, nodding your head towards that shitty little bed.
As he stretches out onto his back — to the best of his ability, with his heels nearly dangling off the end — he swears on his life that his friends can never know how weak he gets when you call him that.
You place your hands on his chest to keep your balance, lifting one leg over his until you’re straddling him. Your right knee settles uncomfortably between his leg and the wall, but you don’t complain. Instead, you look him dead in the eye and pull your fatal, black thong to the side.
Even in this piss-poor lighting, Mingyu can see the way your darkened eyes glint. He’s spellbound — there’s no other word to describe it.
One hand takes hold of his cock and lines it up to your cunt. The other raises to your lips, index finger extended. You tease him without saying a word, and he hears it loud and clear.
Oh, he’s going to be so good for you.
That’s what he tells himself until your arousal makes contact with the tip of his cock. That’s what he repeats in his head, over and over, when you sink down and gush around him, slick dripping to coat the centimeters that don’t quite fit inside of you. What he says out loud, elongated and definitely above a whisper, is:
“Fuuuuck.”
You quickly lean over his chest to cover his mouth with your hand. Though your pulses are both racing, he’s less focused on his total, abject embarrassment than he is on the amusement that causes your mouth to curve.
Keeping your hand where it is — for the good of everyone, really — you nip at his earlobe. He waits for the inevitable consequence of his actions.
Goddamn it. How stupid does he have to be to forfeit a prize like you?
“You don’t listen very well, baby,” Your hushed tone drips like honey into his ear. Involuntarily, his hips jerk upwards, pushing further into your wet heat.
Any distance is too much.
“But you feel so fucking good —”
Again, he ruts against you when your teeth graze his earlobe. Under your palm, his whimpering is unintelligible, but that doesn’t stop him. You catch his groan in your hand before it can hit the air.
“— might have to bend the rules for you.”
It’s torture. 
Mingyu knows you’re moving this slowly to avoid upsetting the box springs below, but whether or not there’s method to the madness, it’s still unbearable.
You swirl your hips in a way that makes his vision go white at the edges, grind down into his lap with quiet precision. He can feel that soft, spongy spot hiding behind your front wall; and he can hear those delicate little sighs as you fuck yourself deliberately.
He can feel his mind go blank, too, moments before your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. You don’t stop once he spills himself inside of you — you won’t, he hopes.
“Oh, shit,” you whimper, almost inaudibly. “I’m so close.”
The hand not covering his mouth disappears between your legs. If the way your eyes roll back is any indication, you’ve found what you were looking for. 
The sight of you is too much for Mingyu to handle. Nipples peaking through the translucent fabric of your bralette, wrist moving in the opposite direction of your hips, eyelashes fluttering while you rub spirals into your clit. Perfect, top to bottom.
Mingyu cums again when you do, refractory period be damned.
And when you collapse down onto his chest, walls still fluttering around him, he encircles you with his arm so tightly that he can feel you trembling through the aftershocks. With your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck, the tables turn.
“Fuck,” you mutter. The sound is mostly lost against his skin, but there’s enough volume to make you both start to snicker.
You kiss his neck, nudge him with the tip of your nose. Whispering, you ask, “Not bad for a twin bed, huh?”
Mingyu snorts. “Kinda feels like high school. You know, parents on the other side of the wall, cute little bedspread,” His voice trails off so he can press his lips against your temple. Voice low in your ear, he smirks, “Nutting within thirty seconds.”
Your muffled laughter shakes his shoulders, too. Then, you fall into a silence so easy he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep on top of him. To his surprise, you peep, “I didn’t think this through.”
He hums inquisitively in response. You crane your neck to meet his eyes. 
You inhale deeply, then sigh, “I have to waddle down the hallway of my childhood home to the bathroom — right past my parents’ door — and pretend like we didn’t just do what we did.”
Mingyu flashes you a wolfish grin that catches you off guard. Your eyebrows raise in anticipation.
“Need some divine intervention, sounds like. Maybe if you pray about it —” 
The only thing louder than the playful smack you land on his bicep is your laugh, straight from the bottom of your chest.
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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Hey!! I’ve spent most of my day catching up on my reading goal for the year, on your blog. I love your writing!! I wanted to know if you could write something poly!marauders where the reader comes home from work early due to chronic pain (winter weather sucks sometimes), and the boys take care of them? Pls add your own spin however you see fit! Hope your day is going well! :)
And happy holidays!
Thanks so much lovely, you're too sweet <3
modern au
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
“Breathe, angel,” James reminds you, eyeing you worriedly as he sinks into downward dog. “Deep breaths.” 
“I’m breathing,” you sigh, following him down. The movement, the stress it puts on your legs and back, aches, but you feel better than you had when you’d come home. 
You weren’t expecting James to be here (he typically likes to get out of the house on his days off, too energetic and cabin-fever-prone to stay in) but he hasn’t let you have even a moment of peace since you’d come in the door, unannounced and several hours from the end of your workday. He’d first tried to get you to go on a walk, but the frigid weather outside is what had doomed you in the first place so he’d settled for pulling up a short, low-intensity yoga video on his laptop. 
A small part of you resents him for it, just a little. The smarter part of you is grateful. 
“Just a bit longer,” James says, likely sensing your growing discontent. “After this we can get you a warm bath. Or a massage, if you like.” 
You hum a weary thanks. Either of those sound great, but a nap would be spectacular. You want to evanesce. Sink into a sleep beyond pain. 
The serene voice on James’ laptop guides you into a cat-cow pose, but you’re only starting your first cat when you hear the click of the door opening. You turn to James in confusion. He won’t quite look at you. 
You recognize the loud clunking sound of Sirius kicking off his shoes a moment before he comes into view. 
“Ooh, yoga.” He’s smiling, but there’s a watchful quality to his gaze as he drapes himself across the sofa. “Mind an audience?” 
You shoot James an accusatory look. “Why’d you call him?” 
“Excuse me,” Sirius says, reclaiming your attention. “Do you not want me here?” 
You give up on the yoga, sitting on your mat. “I don’t want you to have to leave work,” you say quietly. 
Sirius tsks, sliding off the couch and moving closer to you. “I couldn’t have been productive while I was worried about you anyways. Figured I’d save my boss the money.” His smile slips, a tiny pucker appearing between his brows. “You alright for a hug?” 
You answer by opening your arms, and he gathers you up. He doesn’t squeeze the way he normally might, hands careful on your back, but it’s still nice. 
“How bad is it?” he asks, turning his face to mush the words lovingly into the side of your head. 
“Not bad,” you murmur. 
“I’d say it’s pretty bad,” James contends gently, “if you had to come home from work.” 
You turn your head to look at him, offering a sheepish shrug. “The yoga helped some.” 
James’ smile is lopsided, eyes flickering with relief behind his glasses. Sirius isn’t so easily convinced, loosening his grip on you so he can see your face. Despite how used to it you should be, it’s still an effort not to shrink under that gaze. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, if he finds it or he doesn’t, but a few moments later Sirius’ hands slide up to your face. He kisses the skin next to your nose lightly. 
“Let me make you some tea, sweet girl,” he says, standing. “You’ve had pain meds already, yeah?” 
You hum that you have, and James says after him, “Not the chamomile, it’ll just make her sleepy.” 
You try not to sulk as Sirius calls back, “I’m not new here, Potter.” 
James is trying to get you back into the yoga when the door opens a second time. If you hadn’t gotten there by process of elimination, the soft, considerate footfalls would have let you know who it was. 
“Oh, hi,” Remus says when he finds you and James already waiting for him. Pity softens his expression as his eyes fall on you. “How are you, dove? Is the yoga helping?”
“It was,” James grouses, though his little smile lets you both know he’s only teasing. He extends his arms out in front of him, beckoning with his hands. “Come here, give us a hug. She got to go first last time.” 
Remus doesn’t put up any argument. James stands as he comes forward, weaving one arm over Remus’ shoulders and the other under. 
“I am ailing,” you point out. When Remus angles his head on James’ shoulder to give you a concerned look, you add softly, “Not terribly, though.” 
Remus chuckles, pushing a spindly hand slowly up and down James’ spine. The other cups the back of his boyfriend’s head, sinking into his plush nap of curls. “I think you’ve worried him down to the bone,” he observes. 
There’s a noncommittal hum, followed by a muffled smacking sound as James kisses Remus’ shoulder. 
“Have you considered that I’m just soaking up all the hug I can get?” 
“Nefarious,” Remus murmurs lovingly. 
“I leave the room for two seconds, and of course a lovefest commences.” Sirius strides in with a steaming cup of tea. “It should be outlawed. I feel swindled and scorned.” 
“You got to go first,” James argues, but Remus extricates himself from his hold anyway, folding a leg under himself to sit on the couch. 
“Irrelevant.” Sirius sets your tea down on the coffee tables, using his free hand to wave James off. “Do either of you want tea?” 
“No thank you,” Remus says while James shakes his head. “You didn’t give her chamomile, did you? Because that will only—”
“No,” you all say, you rather mopily. 
You scoot towards the table and reach for your tea. Sirius settles into the couch, leaning his back against Remus’ side. 
“Alright,” James relents, shutting his laptop, “we can call it quits on the yoga. We were basically at the end of the video anyway.” His big hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Want one of us to get a bath ready for you, lovie?” 
A whole new ache starts up, right in the center of your chest. You set your tea back on the coffee table, too hot to drink, and lean your head on James’ shoulder. Your throat clogs slightly. So, so sweet to you. A bath does sound nice, but you’re not sure you can commit to it. That’s at least a half hour between you and sleep. 
“Thank you,” you say, making sure he hears the sincerity in the words, “but I think I just want to go to bed.” 
James’ sigh is so soft you think you’re not meant to hear it. “It’s a bit early for that yet,” he says, thumb swiping back and forth on your shoulder. “How about a massage?” 
“I’m tired,” you complain, and you try not to whine but a bit of it comes through anyway.  
“I know, love,” Remus says, leaning his elbows onto his knees so that his face is nearly level with yours, “but if you nap now you won’t be able to sleep tonight, and then you’ll be tired all over again tomorrow.” He reaches across the coffee table, the tips of his fingers brushing yours. “This is to help you, I promise.” 
You let your little sigh fan cool air over your tea, raising it again to your lips as you nod. 
“Go for the massage,” Sirius says. He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning like he’s letting you in on some sort of secret. “Trust me, babe. Jamie missed his calling with that one. Hands of an angel.”
You look over, and James is grinning so hugely you wonder if his ears pop. “Alright, fine.” He shrugs, feigning reluctance. “After I’m done with her, you can have next turn.”
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straykeedz · 7 months
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day 16: i.n. + breeding kink
©straykeedz
tw: established relationship!au; both protected and unprotected piv sex (don't do this one at home! 🤨); very brief nipple play; creampie; ♡
wc: 2,2k;
this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡
🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡
to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡
smut below the cut, minors dni.
⛲︎
Jeongin’s all over your body, kissing, licking, touching every single spot of you as if his life depended on it - he feels like it does. His hard-on is pressed against your belly, hard and leaking pre-cum already, and you can’t wait to feel him inside of you. He seems to notice your eagerness, because he moves his hand south to wrap his slender fingers around the base of his cock, slightly pulling away from your body just so he can align his tip to your wet entrance, but before he can part your folds with his cock, you stop him by placing the palm of your hand on his chest. 
“Wait.”, you murmur, and he snaps his head up to look you in the eyes - scared that he might’ve hurt you or made you uncomfortable, or that maybe he misinterpreted your intentions for the night. “We should use a condom this time.”, you say before he can even ask you what’s wrong. 
He furrows his eyebrows. A condom? Why? You’ve been dating for years, are both clean and haven’t used condoms since last year, when you both agreed to - since you’re on birth control anyways. So why are you asking him to put on a condom now? Of course he’s going to use one since you asked him to, he’s not an asshole, but he just finds it strange.
“I mean - sure, but - why?”, he can’t help but ask. 
You chuckle at his reaction, pecking his pouty lips as you caress his cheekbone with the knuckle of your fingers. “Because I’ve been on antibiotics for the past week - since I was sick and stuff. And the doctor told me to be careful since it can mess with my birth control and I could technically get pregnant. So it’s best if we use condoms for the rest of the month, until I get my period.”, you explain. 
A shiver runs down Jeongin’s spine once he hears those words. He doesn’t know why, but when you mentioned there’s a chance you might get pregnant if you do it raw, Jeongin felt his dick get even harder. The thought kind of intrigues him, to be honest, which is stupid, because he most definitely doesn’t want to knock you up any time soon. You’re both very young and there’s a lot of things you want to accomplish in your lives before thinking of growing a family - but it makes his cock throb nonetheless. 
To shake the thought off his mind, he quickly opens  the bedside drawer and fishes a condom. As he puts it on, he can’t help but wonder what would happen if it broke? He knows it’s not gonna happen and that they’re resistant and made for withstanding even the roughest sex, yet he can’t help but think what if. 
When he enters you, he closes his eyes and pretends the thin barrier of latex isn’t there, that he’s fucking you raw and that it’s risky, because your birth control could potentially not be working right now, and he could be unknowingly knocking you up. That very thought makes him let out a choked moan as he thrusts himself inside of you at a relentless pace. What if he starts fucking you so hard the condom rips, allowing his cum to coat your walls? Would you get pregnant on the first try - or more like, accident? The mere thought drives him crazy, hips snapping harder against yours to the point the tip of his cock is practically kissing your cervix. He’s sure he’s never fucked you as hard as he’s fucking you right now. 
“Yes - right there, baby.”, you moan, biting hard on the back of your hand to suppress your moans- a signal you’re close to reaching your high. 
He wonders if you’re thinking about it too, or if it’s just him who’s being a creep about it. He doesn’t dare to ask you, though. He kinda wants to keep this forbidden thought to himself, doesn’t want to share it with anyone. What’s the harm, right? It’s just an innocent fantasy, it’s not a bid deal. 
He once read somewhere that if the female has an orgasm during unprotected penetrative sex, it might increase the chance of her getting pregnant - and since then, that’s all he can think about when he feels you clench around him, coating the condom in your sweet release. If he filled you up now, the chances of knocking you up would be higher - oh, how good you would look pregnant with his child. Before he can process what’s going on, he feels his own orgasm wash over him, and he’s filling up the condom. 
The second, it’s a couple of months later. You throw up because of a food poisoning, and ask him to wear a condom again. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”. 
And basically - the same thing happens. 
Jeongin practically fucks you into the mattress as the same scenarios take place in his mind - maybe the condom would break and he would notice only once he pulls out and watch his seed drip from your hole, but it’d be too late. It’s not about getting to cum inside of you, though, because he does it pretty regularly - it’s all about the risk. The thought of doing something that you shouldn’t be doing. It makes him practically drill his hard cock into you - making you cum within seconds as he keeps on thrusting inside of you, finishing not too long after you, spilling - unfortunately - inside the latex. 
“Get pregnant. Fuck- you’d look so gorgeous pregnant with my child.”, he thinks as he fucks you through his orgasm. “Wanna knock you up so bad."
Except he doesn’t think it, he whispers it. 
It’s almost inaudible, but with the way his body is pressed against yours, it’s impossible for you not to hear it. He doesn’t realize he said it out loud, too lost in the moment as he milks his cock inside of you. 
You know he doesn’t want to actually get you pregnant - you talked about the eventuality of having children together one day and you’re both on the same page about this, you do want to have kids together but not right now. 
That’s why his innocent fantasy piques your interest. 
So, you come out with a plan, a plan he’ll hopefully enjoy. Well, of course he’ll enjoy it, since it involves having sex with you - the man can’t just get enough of your pussy, but that’s okay, because you can’t get enough of his dick either. 
Jeongin’s body’s hovering hover yours as his lips - wet with your orgasm since he’s just finished eating you out like a starved man, making you come twice on his tongue - kiss every inch of your neck and collarbone. He’s sliding his cock up and down your folds, coating it in what remains of your orgasm, not putting it inside just yet - wanting this intimate moment between the two of you to last as long as possible. 
“I want you, jagiya.”, he mumbles against your skin, leaving a series of kisses on your neck. “You’re driving me crazy. Been waiting to be inside of you the whole day.”, he grunts, one of his veiny hands groping your breast as his cockhead repeatedly brushes your sensitive clit. 
“Mhhh, been waitin’ to feel you inside of me the whole day.”, you chuckle, tugging at his black hair as he leaves a kisses on the corner of your mouth, then pecks your lips. 
Then, he takes his hard cock in his hand and aligns its tip to your entrance - this time he’s not wearing a condom, there’s no reason to - and slowly pushes inside. Your walls practically suck him in, squeezing him in all the right places as he bottoms out in one motion. 
“Fuck, I’d die right here between your legs.”, he grunts, hiding his forehead in the crook of your neck as he takes a few seconds to recollect himself. 
“It’d be a nice death, wouldn’t it?”, you giggle, crossing your arms over his back, nails delicately scraping his skin as he starts thrusting inside of you slowly, yet deep. 
“The best.”, he moans, sucking on the flesh of your neck as his thrusts turn a little bit rougher until the sound of slapping skin fills your bedroom, his cock deliciously filling you to the brim. “Fuck- you always feel so good, jagi.”
But you can’t help but notice he’s fucking you differently than those two times. It’s intense, yes, and he’s desperate to feel you - but it’s different. So - you decide this is the moment to test your theory. 
“You’re fucking me so well, Innie.”, you whimper, tugging at his hair as he keeps thrusting inside of you. “We should probably be careful, tho.”, you murmur. 
In the heat of the moment, Jeongin’s brain doesn’t fully process your words. “Why?”, he grunts, snapping his hips to meet your movements, but he’s not really focused in the conversation. 
“I forgot to take the pill yesterday.”
It’s not true - just a little white lie to fulfill your boyfriend’s fantasy. 
Jeongin is ashamed of the sound that leaves his mind as soon as you whisper those words in his ear - a shiver runs through his whole body as he thrusts particularly hard inside of you, gripping your hip so tight his knuckles turn white. It’s okay, you like a little pain. 
“Mhh, I knew it.”, you hiss after a particular hard thrusts that has you seeing stars. “I knew the idea of knocking me up turns you on.”
It’s like something inside of Jeongin snaps, because he starts fucking you harder, balls repeatedly slapping against the skin of your ass as his cocks reaches spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed until now. 
“Jagi…”, he whimpers, moving desperately inside of you. 
“Doesn’t it?”
“So much.” Jeongin answers immediately, words rolling off his tongue automatically - he’s not even thinking right now. “I wanna knock you up so bad.”, he grunts, groping one of your tits, squeezing your nipple between his fingers as he takes the other in his mouth, releasing it soon after. “These would look so sexy full of milk.” At this point he’s just rambling, not even paying attention to this words - that’s how much pussydrunk he is, just for you. 
“If you - fuck.”, you’re cut off by Jeongin’s cockhead brushing your g-spot in a particularly good angle. “If you keep fucking me like this I’ll cum.”
“Cum.” Jeongin encourages you, brushing that same spot repeatedly, determined to get you off as fast as possible, sensing he’s close to his own release too. “Please, please, cum.”, even though you’re the one who’s this close to cumming, he’s the one who’s whining. 
You cum after a series of precise thrusts, falling apart around his cock, scratching his back with your nails as you kick your head back, toes curling as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Now it’s your turn.”, you pant, still dazed from your orgasm, but very much determined to make him fall apart, too, desperate to see him lose control. 
“‘M close too.”, he whimpers, pecking your lips to muffle his own sounds. 
You pull his hair, careful not to hurt him, making him look you in the eye, still fucking you into oblivion. “Good boy, cum for me.”, you encourage him. “Don’t you want to fill me up? Fuck me full of cum to make sure you get me pregnant?”
You watch closely the way his eyes roll in the back of his head as he pars his lips to let out a moan. “I do.”, he lets out a choked whimper. “I do, fuck. Wanna knock you up so bad.” 
He doesn’t even realize he’s cumming until he feels it drip out of your hole, coating and probably staining the sheets. His orgasm lasts longer than usual, and it’s much more intense too - his whole body tenses, his muscles flex and his toes curl as his cock throbs inside of you, spilling until the very last drop of his seed. His body falls on top of yours as he tries to catch his breath while you caress his shoulders and hair. 
Then, realization hits him. 
“Fuck.” 
His body practically jolts up as he sits on the mattress, looking at you with wide eyes, visibly panicked. He’s finished inside of you, and you told him you were supposed to be careful. How could he be so stupid? He should’ve controlled himself better. 
“Jagi, I-“, he sounds as if he’s about to burst into a sob. 
“Don’t worry, Innie.”, you giggle, taking him off-guard. “I didn’t forget to take the pill. We’re safe.”
He looks at you confused, yet relieved at the same time. “Then why-“
You interrupt him. “I just wanted to prove a point.”, you giggle.
“Which point?”, he asks. 
“That you have a breeding kink.”, you state matter-of-factly. “And I was right.”
“How… how did you know?”, he’s flustered, cheeks turning pink, embarrassed his kink has been exposed, that his secret is out. 
“Let’s just say you’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
⛲︎
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rinniessance · 6 months
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BEST FRIEND'S GIRL ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x f!reader
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nothing has ever been tempting enough for suguru geto to stab his best friend in the back - until you.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. cheating, kind of manipulation, kind of dubcon, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, so so many pet names and name calling (calls you slut once), choking, dacraphyllia, spit, overstimulation, he doesn't pull out when you ask. satoru is toxic and suguru is a creep and a very bad friend in this one ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am christening my new blog with this piece of absolute filth .ᐟ.ᐟ ꒱
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being satoru gojo’s best friend is easy, it always has been. ever since suguru and satoru met in the elementary school, they've been inseparable, joint at the hip whenever they went. at times, no words needed to be exchanged between the two, a glance was enough for the duo to understand one another without missing a beat. and they always shared everything (and by everything, suguru truly means everything – his camera roll is a sin to be discovered) – that, until you came along.
geto remembers clear as day when gojo introduced you as his new girlfriend – he had to make sure he read the message he received correctly because when does satoru ever start a relationship without mentioning it to him before anyone else? suguru scoffs at his phone screen when he reads a text from gojo that he’s bringing “his new girl” to the party. “i think this one is special” reads his next message, and suguru laughs darkly. how many satoru’s special girls has he met already?
but when he sees you for the first time, oh when he sees you, all pieces of the puzzle come together. all of a sudden, satoru’s decision to keep you all to himself until he absolutely had to reveal you to the world makes perfect sense.
suguru thinks he’s never met as anyone as bewitching as you are, you have captivated him whole. the very moment your big doe eyes turned into tiny crescent moons when you smiled at him and extended your hand for a greeting is forever stitched into his brain, weaved into the crevices of his mind: it’s the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last memory he replays before he goes to sleep. even when geto slips into the realm of morpheus, his dreams are still full of you. damn your strawberry lipgloss, your citrus scented perfume and your tiny pink dresses that leave so little to imagination. the pants suguru has to wear when he knows satoru’s bringing you along are getting wider and wider – to his embarrassment, it’s getting extremely difficult to hide his boner whenever you (unintentionally) bat your eyelashes at him.
(he had to jerk himself off in gojo’s bathroom once when he came over for a movie night – you were wearing your boyfriend’s t-shirt and he couldn’t stop imagining what his clothes would look like on your body. that thought alone was almost enough to making him cum.)
thoughts of you torment his every waking moment – he checks your instagram every hour for any updates and stalks your old posts in the hopes he will dream of your angelic face again; he makes plans with satoru under the pretense he is bored and has nothing better to do just to shamelessly gawk at you the whole time; and he feels like he hits the jackpot every time you laugh at his stupid jokes.
once in a while, the realization that he’s down bad for his best friend’s girlfriend hits him like a tidal wave – he can feel it coming, see the rising signs of the shame foaming up somewhere deep in the darkest corners of the ocean that is his heart. and when it finally washes over him, he feels himself drowning in the whirlpool of emotions he is usually too tired to deal with.
suguru knows exactly what you see in satoru – of course he does. his best friend is handsome, rich, popular; despite what others might say, he is a great conversationalist, and he will never give you a chance to get bored of him. geto is sure his best friend only showed his best parts when you started dating – that is why he is twice delighted when you get to experience the withdrawal symptoms as a result of satoru gojo’s absence. geto knows this game by heart – satoru gets a girl hooked, spoils her with attention and then suddenly becomes withdrawn. “it intensifies the feelings”, he usually says. special girl his ass. geto doesn’t complain though. instead, he works on an opportunity to create a rift between you two because he knows he can treat you so much better.
suguru gives you his number (“just in case you ever need to know where satoru is”), and casually starts texting you from time to time. it’s always simple topics: asking if you’ve heard back from satoru, saying he hasn’t been responding to geto’s texts (when he knows perfectly well he spoke with the white haired man that morning); wondering if the two of you have any plans later this week (he knows you don’t – his best friend has been on a successful streak of being hot and cold with you for the past couple of weeks); making sure everything’s okay between you two. he puts invisible effort into appearing to you as a concerned friend, and it pays off when you finally start texting him first. geto doesn’t know if it’s out of loneliness or sheer desperation – what he knows is that he is one step closer to tasting what satoru has been too dumb to properly treasure all this time.
you call suguru out of the blue on a saturday night. him and satoru decided to throw a party, and he is currently smoking his second cigarette, trying not to stare too much at the back of his best friend’s head while he is flirting with a girl he is sure to forget ten minutes later. why does gojo even bother when he has you waiting for him at home? geto looks at your display name in a slight surprise – the two of you have been getting closer but this is the first time you called.
“hello?”
“hi suguru… uhm…” he hears a quite sniffle on the other end of the phone line. you have been crying. “sorry to bother you but would you happen to know where satoru is? he has not been answering my calls and texts, and i am just getting worried.”
of course he knows where his best friend is – not even 4 feet away from him, having the time of his life. but geto chases the opportunity when he sees one, and he realizes this might be the chance he’s been waiting for.
“no, i don’t, i’m sorry. but if you’d like, i can come over and we can wait for him? if you’re feeling up to having some company.”
the silence ensues, and suguru thinks that maybe he overestimated the level of comfort you feel with him. he is about to apologize when you softly speak up again.
“yeah, i think i’d like that.”
“okay, i’ll be there in 30.”
he gives satoru a quick excuse as to why he has to leave – white-haired man doesn’t even blink an eye and just yells at him to be safe. but safe is the last thing he is planning to be today. suguru has never wished for the ability to teleport more than he did now because driving to your place takes entirely too long. but, as promised, he is finally standing in front of your door 30 minutes later. his hands are shaking from the adrenaline when he knocks – your ethereal features bless him mere seconds later.
“hi,” you whisper almost breathlessly.
“hello again,” geto responds, and you shuffle to the side to let him inside. he’s been to your house before, namely for the horror movie nights where he can pretend he is sitting too close to you entirely for platonic reasons, in the “this movie is so scary i need to hold someone” type of way. yet, it feels completely different when your boyfriend is not here.
“thank you for coming. i hope i didn’t distract you from anything important but…” he can see the beads of tears pool in the corner of your eyes, and fuck, he would be lying if he said his pants didn’t feel too tight for this situation. oh how he would like to make you cry for entirely different reasons, “satoru has not been responding to me and it’s getting a little too much to bear. as his friend, i appreciate your company.”
“anytime,” suguru breathes out – his brain is short circuiting and he is unable to string more than two words together. however, you don’t notice his slipping composure as you walk back to your couch and extend geto an invitation to sit beside you.
the silence only stretches for a few seconds as you press play on some movie. raven-haired man was about to say something to break the silence but stops his word vomit when he hears your soft sniffling. suguru decides this opportunity will not present itself again – he wordlessly opens his arms and gestures you to come for a hug. you seem unsure at first but then giggle quietly and carefully curl yourself into him.
geto has never been this close to you before – he can smell the scent of your shampoo; he can feel the softness of your hair and the smoothness of your skin where he is able to touch you; he can soak in the warmth your body is offering him right now. and all of that because satoru thinks he is too good to lose all of this.
“you know,” geto slowly starts, “maybe if he makes you feel this way, he is not a very good boyfriend.”
suguru knows he is playing with fire – but he would be a fool to not at least try.
“it’s not always too bad,” you respond back. there is an apprehension in your voice, doubt, maybe even little bit of fear. he knows this script by heart: you, pretending like nothing’s wrong by trying to concentrate on all the good memories gojo gifted you with, and him, always sealing the arguments with iron-hot kisses.
“yeah, i know. but don’t you think him making you feel this way is shitty enough? even if it only happened once, isn’t it already one time too many?”
“but he treats me so well,” you try to fight back and move to look him straight in the eyes. oh, that was a mistake asyour glossy doe eyes hold the beauty all the poets sing about. what was that saying? face that launched a thousand ships? yeah, he would willingly go to war for you. next words escape him before he can put a stop to his endless stream of thoughts.
“i can treat you so much better.”
he can see you gasp in surprise, making the most adorable face he’s ever seen. geto doesn’t want to hear what you have to say back – he is moving on instinct, animalistic hunger re-wiring his every nerve – so he kisses you, hard and breathtakingly, like he dreamed of ever since he first laid eyes on you.
you are startled, eyes as wide as two full moons, and you try to push himself off but he is persistent. suguru feels your hands curling into his t-shirt, and you cannot stop the moan slipping past your lips.
“you don’t have to be shy with me. it seems satoru has been neglecting you awfully a lot recently, wouldn’t you let me take care of you?”
“we s-shouldn’t be doing this, suguru. it’s wrong.”
“what’s wrong, sinful even, is to leave a pretty girl like you all alone. let me show you how you should be loved.”
before you can respond, suguru is sliding his hand down your shorts and feels your throbbing heat through the panties. you are not wet enough yet but geto knows he can change it very quickly.
“tell me, princess, when was the last time satoru fucked you? or better one, when was the last time satoru fucked you and made you cum?” suguru cups your sex through your clothes and grinds his palm on your clit. the mewl it earns him from you feels almost like honey on a sore throat – he swears it sounds almost divine.
“yeah, you like that, sweet thing?” he asks you, and you’re too embarrassed to say anything so you just shake your head. as your body starts feeling good, you stop caring how wrong it is: you cannot deny you’ve missed being treated like you’re the only one that matters. “you know, i don’t understand satoru. if you were mine, i would keep you under me the whole day. fuck you into this couch until i am the only one on your mind, and then make you cum again and again on my tongue and my fingers. would you like that, princess?”
geto’s honeycomb words make you lose any last reservations you’ve had about this whole affair. his fingers keep massaging your pearly bud – it’s been left without attention for way too long for your own comfort, and your own fingers do not bring you the same level of satisfaction as you got used to with satoru. so you kiss geto again, and climb on top of him, everything else be damned.
suguru kisses you back with a ferociousness of a starved beast – it’s messy and it’s loud, teeth clanking, wet sounds of your mouths moving in rhythm bouncing between the two of you, moans exchanged and swallowed. he is biting on your lip, hands squeezing your hips harshly – you’re sure you will see bruises there tomorrow – making you grind on him. you can feel the growing tent in his cargo pants, and that makes you feverishly hot.
“i will make you cum three times tonight, princess. first, you’ll do it on my tongue, second, on my fingers, and finally, i’ll let you cream around my cock. how does that sound?”
you want to respond back, say something, but words fail you for the -nth time today, the only sounds escaping you are loud moans, borderline on pathetic. suguru takes that as a confirmation and flips you into a position under him, your lips slightly swollen and eyes glistening with the previous tears. god, he cannot wait to make you cry for an entirely different reason.
he starts by capturing your lips with his again, rough movements of his tongue against yours. how many times has he lost himself in a daydream while you were around, watching you lick your lips clean, pink tongue darting out to wipe away any food? geto deepens the kiss and cannot stop the whine rushing out past his lips, immediately swallowed by you.
suguru does not want to pull away but there is something else he is dying to taste. his lips move lower, grazing the side of your sensitive neck – involuntarily, your hips jerks upward, your aching core starting to look for any relief, when he brushes past that spot in the dip of your neck igniting your nerves. you don’t try to stop yourselves from letting geto know exactly how he makes you feel. he keeps moving lower, removing your shirt and caressing the tender skin of your boobs, and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth, circling his tongue around the perky nub dying for his attention. closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you revel in this feeling of body worship. your wanton moans become louder, and geto’s cock becomes even harder when he sees the look of absolute bliss on your face. his unoccupied hand goes to play with the other nipple, gently twisting it between his digits, pinching it just enough to spike your pleasure with pain.
your shorts are gone next, together with your light-blue panties that suguru removes in one swift motion. you are sprawled out naked on your couch in front of your boyfriend’s best friend – yet you fail to feel any shame. geto spreads your legs wider and is delighted to discover the prettiest view in the house: your glistening pussy all wet and ready for him.
“huh, what is it?” he swipes between your folds, spreading your slick all the way to the clit begging to be touched, “little cute slut only needed couple of kisses to get this wet? did satoru really neglect his little princess this much?”
“p-please… ah… don’t mention his name while we do this,” you say, eyes still closed, geto’s digits continuing playing around your pearl, not giving you the full stimulation yet.
“do what, pretty face? fuck? i am about to eat your cunt but you’re too shy to even say it out loud?” suguru laughs, almost patronizingly, and slaps your clit with his hand, earning a surprised gasp from you. you hide your face in your hands, or at least try to, but geto has other ideas. “uh-uh, no, you cannot hide from me. open your eyes, i want you to keep looking, doll.”
geto leans closer to your throbbing clit and spits – your view is obscene, yet you’re unable to look away. even as he languidly swipes his tongue between your spread folds and flicks it around your nub, you keep your eyes opened. your hands grab his hair, and geto grunts but doesn’t stop you. he keeps drawing slow circles around your clit, and you can feel the coil in your tummy starting to tighten. you would be embarrassed at how fast he is getting you to your orgasm, yet you fail to care.
suguru wants to insert a finger but he promised he would make you cum with his tongue alone. long flicks of his tongue along your inner lips drive you insane, slurping sounding so filthy, you might need to move places now – and when geto sucks on your pearl, suctioning his lips just at the right spot, he is bringing you closer and closer to the peak of the ecstasy you’ve been craving. his hands are hot to the touch as they grab your hips with almost punishing force, pushing you even closer to his face.
just as you thought this was enough to light your whole being on fire, geto starts pumping his tongue in and out of you, sloshing sounds echoing in your ears, making you burn hot. suguru is alternating between giving your pretty clit attention, tracing his tongue along your lips, and sucking on nerve bundle that sends sparks to your pleasure receptors, making you burn all that hotter. flatting out the tongue, suguru is running it over your clit and labia, before pumping the tip of it back into your wanting hole.
your moaning becomes louder and louder, grip on geto’s hair almost painful now but he doesn’t mind. looking back up at you, he meets your gaze – and can’t help but praise you for how good you’ve been to him.
“my cute bunny actually listened to me, huh? keeping your pretty eyes on me while i eat you out like this? i bet you enjoy the view.”
and you do, of course you do. the orgasm is imminent now as geto speeds up his movement, licking up and down. your breathing accelerates and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of your pleasure – until geto pushes you over. it doesn’t take much longer for you to cum, juices dripping out of you and down his tongue. suguru is drinking up every last drop, not daring to spill his very own elixir of life.
“fu-uuck, it feels so good,” you cry out as he keeps tongue fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs trying to close around his head to escape the ongoing assault on your poor cunt, but suguru’s iron grip doesn’t falter. you whine and try to push his head away, body starting to shake with overstimulation, but geto is determined – he sucks on your clit again and you yelp, seeing stars. he finally relents and gets up from his knees, kissing you again. you taste yourself on his lips, and you feel the arousal climbing up again.
“thank you for the best meal of my life. that was one, yeah?”
he doesn’t give you time to respond before he is caging your smaller body, one hand moving to the nape of your neck to bring you even closer while other teases your entrance. you try not to seem too desperate, hugging suguru around his shoulders and bucking your hips into him. geto chuckles darkly, licking your lips and gently massaging the nape of your neck while his digits explore where his tongue already paved the way.
the first flick of his digits on your clit is embarrassingly enough to start lighting up your nerve endings again – a hot feeling, something akin to a molten lava, spreads across your skin, sending the goosebumps running wild. you concentrate on geto’s face, so close to yours, and you are tempted to kiss him again. but he is moving away when you try to chase him, and the prettiest, most adorable pout is dancing on your lips. it makes him want to ruin you.
geto inserts the first finger without any warning, and you’re tearing up from the sudden intrusion – you’re lost in the mix of pain and pleasure that you don’t notice the beads of tears escaping the corners of your eyes. suguru leans close and runs his tongue over salty trails, cleaning you up.
“shhh, it’s only one finger. it’s not your limit, is it? i have so much more to offer.”
geto pushes in the second finger, and you have to grab onto his shoulders. you’re curving your spine into him, trying to guide his fingers to touch that special spongy spot inside your tight, hot hole. suguru’s fingers are slender and long – fingers that should belong to a pianist or a guitarist. and you are no musical instrument, but fuck, you would be lying if geto didn’t know how to play you without missing a beat.
“sug-suguru…” you say thought a whiny hiccup, “i want you to move.”
“yeah? you want me to fuck you with my fingers? on the same couch where you and satoru probably did the same thing?”
mention of your boyfriend’s name sends a wave of shame through you, and geto is quick to notice. before your brain can process the feelings of guilt, he starts pumping his digits in and out of you while drawing tight circles on your sensitive nub. still recovering from your previous orgasm, your body is sent into overdrive, accelerating into ecstasy in no time. if this is wrong, then why does it feel so good?
the squelching sounds your pussy makes around his fingers makes your cheeks heat up, blush kissing your face in a way only suguru should be allowed to do. this time, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, losing yourself to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure spreading throughout your every nerve. geto’s hand comes to tighten around your body, and the sudden cut of airflow is intensifying everything tenfold.
your body starts panicking when blood stops receiving necessary oxygen but the pleasure signals in your brain are setting off like fireworks. geto is pistoning his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt while squeezing his hand around your neck just a little bit tighter. breathless moans are escaping you as your body fights for more oxygen, not able to decide whether the line between pain and pleasure is blurring fast enough. suguru is curling his digits inside you and oh! eureka! he touches that sweet spot making white spots to dance across your vision.
“yeah, that’s it. you’re being such a good girl for me,” geto says above you but his voice is coming through a vacuum – the ringing in your ears becomes louder as your tummy is tightening up again. your mouth hangs open, a ribbon of drool dripping down your chin, and suguru thinks he’s never seen anything sexier. keeping his rhythm, he rubs your clit again, earning a broken moan from you.
geto feels your pussy tightening around his fingers, and he growls imagining his cock stretching your pretty cunt instead. he keeps pushing them in and out, massaging your nub with perfect pressure, squeezing your neck just tight enough, and mere second later, you’re cumming again. a broken moan that turns into a sob is everything you’re able to let out – suguru thinks you look so damn cute, he wants to take a picture. his phone is forgotten somewhere on the couch so instead, he commits to memory every single sound and facial expression.
he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, again, and you try to push at his hand to stop.
“no, common, i know you can do better than this. keep it coming, yeah?” geto says with a smirk, and takes both your wrists into his hand, keeping them close to his chest. you cannot do anything but sob as the waves of pleasure keeps crashing against your shores, leaving you to fend for yourself through the aftershocks of ecstasy. sweat is running between your boobs, down the sides of your face – you’re glistening all over, and suguru swears that’s what a goddess would look like.
“g-geto… please… i can’t take it anymore…”
“geto, huh? i thought we were on the first-name basis now.”
“i’m sorry…” hiccup “it’s just so hard to think…” hiccup.
“aw, i haven’t even made you cum around my cock yet and you’re already fucked out dumb? poor little angel.” you know he is mocking but fuck, why does it feel so good?
geto finally relents when you bit your lips a little too harsh and takes his fingers out of you. he brings them to your lips, and you suck on the digits without any further instructions.
“such a good fucking girl. open your mouth wider for me,” you do as he says, and suguru spits inside. “now, swallow.”
again, you follow his command without any deliberation and then open your mouth to show you’ve done it. geto chuckles and very gently slaps your cheek.
“that was two.”
you whine, thinking if you had to cum one more time, you might actually pass out. you try to pout, and tug at the hem of his t-shirt. “i don’t think i can cum again, suguru.”
“nuh-uh, i told you i’ll make you cum three times, and i will. now come on, be good for me and turn around.”
“i want you to take off your clothes.” your simple request takes him by surprise, but he obliges immediately. his t-shirt is gone first, then cargo pants follow. you trail your eyes down and your mouth forms a perfect little “o” when you see the tent formed in his boxer briefs – geto mentally takes a picture of this moment – and you are left almost speechless.
“it’s not going to fit.”
“i’ll make it fit.”
you don’t dare to look away when suguru starts to pull his underwear down, and your suspicions are correct – he is big, maybe even too big for you. not as long as satoru’s but he is thicker, curvier. angry red tip already leaking with pre-cum, and you want to run your tongue along his slit.
“are you drooling looking at my cock?” geto chuckles, and you turn your gaze away in embarrassment. “aw, ‘m sorry, princess. let me give you something else to drool for.”
geto comes close and grabs you by your hips, moving you around. your forearms land on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat of suguru’s chest against your back, his heavy cock slapping your thigh.
“you’re so fucking pretty, i can’t get enough of you,” geto sounds out of breath, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your sex-soaked scent. he wraps his hand around your waist while pumping his dick with the other. he spreads his pre-cum along his length, finally guiding himself to your waiting cunt.
the stretch is painful – even with all the prep suguru has done, it’s not enough for your tight little pussy to take him in comfortably. geto doesn’t give you time to adjust and pushes himself all the way in, until his balls slap against you. you squeeze your eyes, and little snowflakes of tears run down your cheeks, and your tongue darts out to taste the salty evidence. geto is moving his hips now, dragging his thick length in and out of you. your pussy is clenching every time he pushes against your needy spot, veins on his cock massaging your walls, helping you climb towards your climax again.
suguru grabs you by the jaw and turns your face towards him, losing no time ravishing your lips with his again. they are swollen – he could see how red they are – yet the kiss is hungry, as if geto’s appetite has not been satiated. he is so concentrated on kissing you, he loses his rhythm, and his dick slips out, making both of you whine in displeasure.
“please, give it back,” you mewl into him, and suguru’s losing himself in you – he is losing himself to you. so he gives it back, of course he does, thrusting his cock to the hilt, mushroom tip kissing your cervix. when geto sets a bruising pace, pistoning his hips with the punishing rhythm, you can do nothing but hold onto his forearm – he is the only thing tethering you to earth now, gravity has no hold on a force that is geto.
his slender digits start massaging your abused clit, and you can feel your toes curling again. he fucks into you fast and steady, and lewd sounds of his hips smashing into yours bounce around the four walls – the cacophony of squelching sounds your greedy cunt makes when it sucks geto’s cock fully and readily mixed with your wanton moans create the sex-induced symphony suguru never wants to forget.
you are completely lost to the storm that is suguru geto. he is everywhere, it’s all so much: his hand around your tit, squeezing the soft mound; his middle finger on your clit, drawing the perfect circles with purpose; his mouth on yours, tongue exploring the secrets between your teeth; and his cock being dragged in and out of your crying hole. suguru geto is all encompassing, and you can’t get enough.
geto pinches your nipple, and you jump in surprise while your pussy grips him even tighter. he keeps twirling your nub between his fingers while his mouth moves behind your ear, sucking the little sensitive spot that makes you shiver. soft pad of his middle finger is still playing with your clit, and every single feeling is becoming increasingly overwhelming. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine and white spots dance across your vision as his curved cock kisses just the right spot somewhere deep inside you.
you think you are on fire – everything feels feverish and suguru’s body heat surrounds you like steaky sauna air. tingling in your fingertips and all the way down in your toes intensifies, and you further dig your nails into geto’s forearm. he growls in your ear but doesn’t stop; he continues fucking you in the earnest, like it’s his life-long mission to bring you as much pleasure as humanly possible.
geto’s forehead is pressed against the back of your head, and he can feel his composure slipping – he has been edging himself for a while now, trying to make you cum with him but it slowly becomes all too much. he starts blabbering into your ear, hoping his filthy words will finally bring you over the edge.
“common, pretty thing, i want you creaming all over my cock. i want you to cum with me, can you do it for me, kitten?”
his words reverberate in every crevice of your mind, and your last orgasm washes over you like tsunami. your body is shaking against geto, tears and drool running down the sides of your face and mouth; your vision goes black and you struggle to breathe for a moment. your brain is connecting nerves usually left untouched as climax waves rush over you, making you twitch in the man’s hold. you’re crying and moaning his name – he is the divine presence you need right now, the only god that’s worth worshipping. you’re on the verge of completely losing yourself to pleasure as you think you’re going to faint but suguru’s voice grounds you back.
“shhhh, common, we’re not done yet. milk my cock, gorgeous.”
“no, suguru, i’m not on birth control, you have to pull out.”
“that’s okay, i’ll get you plan b tomorrow. or maybe even better, babytrap you so you have no reason to come back to satoru, hm? how about that?”
“nn-no, please…” but before you can finish your sentence, you hear suguru groan and you can feel him cumming inside. you want to be mad but the overwhelming ecstasy he keeps taking you through is overshadowing every rational thought in your head now. you cannot hold yourself anymore, has not been able to do so for the past 10 minutes, so you helplessly hang onto geto’s forearm while he fucks his cum back into you.
when he finally slows down and pulls out, the two of you are a mess – the room smells of sex and something akin to guilt, but you don’t let yourself linger on it for two long. he gives you a final kiss, gently massaging the nape of your back, guiding you to lie down. you’re unable to stay awake as suguru walks back to your kitchen to grab you a glass of water, passing out on the couch before he even comes back. he smirks, looking down at your figure, and runs his fingers through your hair, hoping your head is only filled with the thoughts of him.
“that was three.”
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