Tumgik
#When your breaking point's all that you have A dream is a soft place to land
emmyrosee · 3 months
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Choso sleeps. A lot.
It’s more than you would imagine for a man of his importance, yet for nearly three hours a day after getting to your place, he curls up on the couch, kicks his legs up and closes his pretty eyes to let his dreams take over and slumber wash over him.
It's cute. It's also just a little bizarre.
You always smile down at him, card a hand through his soft hair, plant a kiss to his forehead and lay a warm blanket over his shoulders to keep him warm.
His little snores ring in the air as you cook dinner, and when he wakes up with the smell of fresh food, he hooks his chin over your shoulder and wraps his arms around your torso with a sleepy smile.
Today, that cycle breaks.
You card your hand through his hair with a loving smile, lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, and-
Big, pretty eyes immediately blink open before you can make contact, a wide smile splaying over his face, only to drop in worry when you flinch back and fall.
“OH GOD!”
“Oh no!”
An arm quickly darts out to catch you, only to have you half caught, half plopped to the floor. You clutch your chest in fear, “choso! What’re you doing!”
“I… I was just-“
“You scared me, you ass! Why are you pretending to be asleep!”
"I didn't mean to!" he says quickly. "I just got so excited for my kiss... I'm sorry."
Your brows furrow and you plop down next to him on the couch, "what kiss, Cho?"
His cheeks blister into a blush of embarrassment, "When... when I fall asleep, you press a kiss to my forehead, and I really like that. It's something that's simple, but i really enjoy you doing." He buries his face in his hands to hide the way he’s blushing.
You ponder for a few seconds before the lightbulb goes off in your head, “ohhhhh! Your forehead kiss!”
He nods in his hands.
“Babe,” you chuckle. “I can just give you forehead kisses. There not exclusive to when you’re asleep! All you have to do is ask, or let me just come to you naturally. Nine times out of ten, when I come near you, I'm coming in for a kiss." To prove your point, you lean inwards to press a loving kiss to his forehead, then one on his nose, then the corner of his lips. He smiles and turns his head slightly to catch your lips in a kiss, and you pull back with a smile. “I like kissing you. Awake, and asleep.”
“Well I like receiving your kisses,” he says, laying his hand palm up for you to lace your fingers with, which you do happily before bringing his knuckles up to kiss them as well. “I like you giving me affection.”
“And I like giving it to you,” you laugh.
He tosses an arm around your shoulder and pull you close to his side, allowing you to cuddle into him with a happy sigh.
You kiss his cheek, “so… you like getting kissed huh?”
He blushes again and rests his forehead against yours to make eye contact, “don’t push it.”
“Too late, Cho.”
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the violence of the dog days.
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pairing: jeongguk x reader
summary: In the midst of summertime, after a week of neglect, your boyfriend has a way of making you feel even more heated.
OR
you're hot and horny for jeongguk.
rating: mature🔞 (minors please dni)
genre: non-idol au, college au, established relationship, smut, fluff, pwp
word count: 9.2k words of unadulterated smut.
warnings: reader and jeongguk are absolute horny simps for each other, but they're also so inlove, soft boyfriend jeongguk (because yes that is a warning), jeongguk is a law student (oof), overuse of the petname 'baby', reader hasn't been getting it seven days a week😔, switch jeongguk (kinda), hair pulling, hickeys, making out, thigh riding, nipple play (jeongguk is proudly a boob guy), religious imagery because jeongguk worships reader like a god, usage of the words 'c*nt' and 'p*ssy' (because i know some people are iffy about that), cunnilingus (f-receiving), jeongguk is low-key a sadist y'all (in his fantasies), a bit of dom/sub dynamics, prayers for reader because jeongguk's got that big d🙏🏽, unprotected sex, doggy style, degradation, a teeny weeny bit of overstimulation, creampie - like this is just pure smut guys 😬, possessive sex, choking, aftercare, reader kinda hints at having attachment issues (but don't we all).
author's note: 1. please ignore any typos :). of course, i'd appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism. but if you find yourself uncomfortable by any of the themes in this fic, there's no need for hate, just kindly move on. 2. also, this is a lot longer and softer than i intended. this fic was supposed to be purely hard smut, but i fell in love with the characters and their relationship, and some aspects of the story just turned out sickeningly sweet - so proceed with caution.
You're an hour into tossing and turning when you can't take it anymore.
The heat.
With June coming to a close end, the surviving remnants of summer creep in through your bedroom window with barely a whisper of a breeze. It clings to every part of your skin, that ever-lingering humidity thickening the air, and wraps itself around your body like a cloak. For some reason, you thought that scrolling aimlessly through the various apps on your phone would help distract your mind from the muggy weather or maybe, by some miracle, even lull you to sleep.
But it hasn’t—of course it hasn't. Because summer is here to stay, burrowing deep within your bones and making a home there. Each passing minute is a testament to that, insomnia creeping up your spine with ill intent and wriggling into every cranny of your mind until you feel like you're losing it.
Perhaps you are, you think.
Because when the desk fan a few feet away suddenly stops whirring and the fumbling grasp you had on sleep slips from your reach like a fleeting dream in the morning light as a result of it—drifting further and further away—you hit your breaking point. The lack of white noise and cool air blowing your way mounts your frustration into place. It hangs there in the ether like a looming shadow but, unlike your slumber, has no plans of deserting you.
With an annoyed huff, you drop your phone back onto the nightstand for the umpteenth time and kick your leg out from under the duvet.
“Fuck.” You sigh, rolling onto your back.
A thin sheen of sweat lingers on the surface of your skin, causing the sheets to stick uncomfortably to every part of your body. You spread your limbs out like a starfish in some futile attempt to cool them down, hoping that you'll catch a draft, but the action only reminds you of how largely cavernous your bed feels right now.
The space beside you is missing a particular doe-eyed boy and, as your hand brushes over the empty spot, you realize that it's not so much the seasonal heat that's making you feel weirdly restless, but rather Jeongguk's absence. In an inconveniently clingy way, you need his body settled next to you at night, your legs and arms a tangled mess beneath the blankets.
You don't know why that is. Why sleep eludes you like a compass without direction, unable to find its way to you when Jeongguk isn't near. But you don't mull over it or give the thought a foothold to stand amongst the endless anxieties already in your head.
All you know is that cuddling up with him in the evening is perhaps one of your favourite pastimes. Akin to a baby with it's bottle, falling asleep in his embrace is something you've grown incredibly used to, maybe even a little dependent on—like a security blanket or night-light—and there's nothing you can do about it.
Sneaking a glance towards the dim light spilling in from beneath the bedroom door, you picture Jeongguk on the other side. Chances are, he’s still where you last left him. Sitting cross-legged on the couch with a laptop balancing carefully on his lap, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, as he catches up on coursework.
You worry your lip, the thought of your boyfriend causing your mind to wander...
He looked so good tonight; adorned in a pair of grey sweats and a baggy t-shirt with his tattoos fully exposed. His dark hair was strewn across his forehead, falling into his eyes in a way that made your fingers itch.
You, on the other hand, are sporting an old, oversized shirt you opted to steal from Jeongguk's wardrobe to combat the high temperatures, but it hasn't helped much. The heat still loiters, creeping up the back of your neck and imbuing your cheeks with warmth.
It makes you long for winter, for the bitter nip of frosty ice and pelting rain, and the desire for that inadvertently reminds you of that fucking silver lip ring Jeongguk had gotten recently.
The memory of its cold, metal sting against your lips as he kissed you goodnight sends a distant, carnal hum coursing throughout your veins. It's probably tugged anxiously between his teeth right now whilst he types away, eyes deadset on the screen before him, and the image of that sends you reeling. Makes your skin flush further, yearning to feel its steel bite again.
For some reason, it propels you into motion, skin prickling as you throw your legs over the edge of the mattress without a second thought.
The last thing you want to do is bother his progress or interrupt his work, but selfishly, you persist. That gnawing feeling deep within your chest is too hard to ignore, heart beating voraciously with each step you take because it longs to be satiated by Jeongguk's presence. Your boyfriend is only one room over, just four thin walls separating the two of you, yet still—you miss him, want him.
Treading lightly, you hear the persistent click-clack of his keyboard and the muffled sound of typing only grows louder as you step out into the hallway. The wooden flooring is frigid beneath your feet, a sensation you immediately relish in as soon as the fiery crawl of discomfort across your skin begins to lessen. Your shirt—or more precisely, Jeongguk’s shirt—falls flat from your waist, landing a few inches above your knees, as you wander further into the apartment.
Just as you’d predicted, Jeongguk is all pretzelled up on the sofa, too focused on his work to hear you enter. A few empty bottles of soju and convenience store snacks litter the coffee table, serving as silent witnesses to the length of time he's been out here. He must have dimmed the lights as well because a faint, warm glow shrouds every facet of the room, making him look particularly soft at this hour.
You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around the length of his shoulders as you bend over the couch's headrest to envelop him in a hug. ”Hey,” You hum softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Jeongguk startles slightly at the contact, shaken from his deep concentration as he angles his head to look up at you. “Shit, baby. You scared me.” He breathes, voice rough from disuse. It rumbles through you like a distant thunderstorm, body vibrating with electricity.
“Sorry,” You murmur, glancing at the assignment he's been working on and tiny pangs of guilt gradually trickle into your stomach. “I didn't mean to disturb you, but-”
“You're not disturbing me.” Jeongguk instantly reassures, scanning your face with a knowing look. “Can’t sleep?” He asks and you nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The scent of his body wash immediately encompasses you like a warm embrace, wild pinewood and bergamot invading your senses.
“I thought you’d be in bed by now.” You mumble against his skin, unable to hide the pout in your voice.
Jeongguk frowns, eyes flickering to the time at the bottom of his laptop screen.
Shit, he hadn’t even noticed how late it’s gotten, the hours skulking along the cusp of a new day. He should probably be turning in for the night, head to bed and worry about this project tomorrow, but he’d rather not postpone his responsibilities. Not when you’re staying over the weekend and he could be spending that time with you instead.
“I know.” Jeongguk responds, hand coming up to intertwine with yours. “I’ll be there soon, okay?” He promises, bringing your knuckles to his lips. The featherlight kiss he presses there soothes you like a curative balm.
“Okay,” You relent, untangling yourself from his body. “But, can I stay here for a bit? It’s too hot in there.” You half lie, gesturing towards the bedroom while simultaneously walking over to the kitchen only a few feet away.
“Yeah, of course.” He murmurs, eyes following your movements.
“Thanks, Kook.” You smile, sparing him a glance over your shoulder as your eyes sparkle with mirth. “By the way, your fan broke down again.”
“Again?” He laments, eyebrows furrowed together whilst he runs a disgruntled hand through his hair. “I seriously need to get that old thing repaired or maybe even replaced.” He grumbles to himself, before a guilty afterthought occurs at the sight of you. “Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby. No wonder you couldn't sleep.”
You don't tell him that it's not so much the heat keeping you awake but, more so, him.
“No, don't worry about it.” You settle on instead, trying to dispel his concerns. “It's not your fault.”
This isn't the first time that Jeongguk’s fan has given him problems. He's had the thing since high school; so it’s no surprise that the motor tends to give in every now and then, running a little too hot. He’s been meaning to get the issue sorted, but hasn’t really found the time to do that these days.
“Plus, I'd much rather be out here with you.” You add.
Jeongguk smiles at you so sweetly then, dimples making an appearance, and your body flushes all over, burning once again.
God, what is wrong with you tonight?
You need to calm down, cool down. At this rate, you feel like an overheating engine, bound to crash in on yourself and combust.
Grabbing a glass of ice water from the fridge dispenser, you rein yourself in, distracting your mind with conversation. “I promise not to be a bother though, like you won't even notice I'm here.” You say, before chugging the cold liquid down on the spot, completely ignorant to the way that Jeongguk drinks you in.
A welcome sight is what you are, so cute tonight with your hair all mussed, practically drowning in his shirt. “You’re never a bother.” He responds, mouth going dry when you lean back to empty the glass. The action causes your shirt to hike up, the creamy expanse of your thighs further exposed to his hungry eyes.
He feels his dick stir at the sight.
“How much longer do you think you’ll be?” You ask, wiping your lips with the back of your palm, as you place your cup in the sink and shuffle over towards your boyfriend.
“Uhh…” Jeongguk clears his throat, broken out of his stupor. He turns back to face his laptop, skimming the Word document that's open before him when he feels you nestle into his side a second later. Automatically, he brings a hand down to rest against your leg.
“I’m not sure,” He grumbles, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your bare thigh. The absent-minded touch ignites something in you, skin blazing at the contact, and you try your best to suppress the goosebumps that rise in Jeongguk’s wake. “Maybe another hour or so?” He guesses.
“Oh.” You mumble and, although you fight the disappointed curl of your lips, Jeongguk doesn’t miss the deflated look on your face.
“I’m sorry,” He squeezes your thigh apologetically, frown overtaking his pretty features. “I know it’s been a while since we spent time together.”
A week exactly, you note, but ultimately keep that detail to yourself. After all, neither one of you is to blame for being so busy, constantly caught between work and university.
You think that's maybe the reason you're feeling so needy tonight, body set ablaze by every minor look and touch from your boyfriend. In a way, you're feeling a little neglected since your relationship’s taken the backseat, not by choice but by consequence, and you don’t know how to deal with it.
“It's fine.” You shrug. "It's not like we can help it.”
You try to be nonchalant about the matter, injecting the slightest hint of indifference into your tone, but Jeongguk sees right through you.
He always does.
“Come here.” He says suddenly, voice soft as he shifts his laptop onto the coffee table.
You look up at him, confusion clear on your face.
“What?” You blink, but your question falls on deaf ears because Jeongguk merely uncrosses his legs and pats his lap.
“Come here,” He then repeats and reaches for your waist.
You're uncertain for the briefest of moments, eyeing Jeongguk suspiciously, before you ultimately give in like malleable clay in his soft hands, allowing him to pull you onto his lap with ease. “I've been working for hours.” He grumps once you're comfortably straddling his waist, hands resting on either side of your hips. “Hardly seen you since you got here.”
You hum, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. It's no secret that you've been spending a lot more time at Jeongguk's place in lieu of your ratty little dorm room. You felt bad about it at first, feeling as though you were invading his space and overstaying your welcome. But your boyfriend couldn't be happier about it. He rather likes the idea of your lives interlocking, melding together as if they were puzzle pieces falling into place. He likes that when he's working, like on nights like this, that you're just on the opposite side of the door, not one phone call or car ride away.
He likes that you're his and he is, equally as much, yours.
“I wanted to leave you to your work.” You explain, curling your arms around his neck. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair that have grown out and the light touch only brings about the memory of how much he has missed you these past few days.
“Well, it's about time I take a break, don't you think?” Jeongguk muses and you become hyper-aware of the way his fingers brush up your spine. “Give my girl some attention…” He trails on, eyes flickering to your lips.
You practically preen at the idea, smiling shyly as you lean into his touch. “I wouldn't object to that.” Your heart patters in your chest, beating wildly at the mere sight of Jeongguk. At the thought of him finally touching you, kissing you, quenching your thirst after this week-long drought. “I've missed you.”
Jeongguk chuckles faintly. “Me too, baby.” He murmurs, perching his head upwards to press his lips against yours.
The kiss is gentle, chaste, his plush lips feeling so featherlight against yours. You almost imagine they were never there to begin with because Jeongguk pulls away before you can truly savour the taste of them.
“You know, you look so pretty in my clothes.” He begins, large hand spreading lazily around your left hip and up your back. “Kinda makes me want to wreck you.”
“You already wreck me.” You breathe without missing a beat.
“Yeah?” Jeongguk rasps, his voice low and a little dark. It sends a thrill straight up your spine.
You nod in response, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “No one makes me feel the way you do.” You admit, eyes flitting across his face. It's an unwavering truth—one that simultaneously scares and excites you in this quiet dead of night.
“Can I kiss you again?” The words come out as a breathy whisper; as if you've been holding on to them for too long, as if they're the oxygen you so desperately need to breathe, and Jeongguk tilts his head, bewildered frown on his face.
“How is that even a question.” He gripes, slanting his head in a means to meet your mouth halfway, but you have another idea.
You press into him instead, leaning forward, and set out to peck lovingly along the curvature of Jeongguk’s jawline. He huffs in amusement, endeared by the way you take control. Because, although he’s usually the dominant one in the bedroom, he doesn't mind when you take charge like this. In fact, he's grown to love it. Loves the way you come into your own, toying and teasing with him, until your own actions cause you to grow desperate.
It's one of his greater weaknesses, his Achilles heel, and right now, you want nothing more than to expose it. Unveil a certain side of him. The one that'll see how far you can push before he starts to push back. The one that'll give in and take you right here on this couch after he's entertained your antics for long enough and you finally beg him to fuck you.
Your body practically hums at the thought.
You map out his skin, lips brushing against the surface like you're exploring a new land. Every movement careful, every touch claiming what's yours. And it almost goes to your head—how quickly Jeongguk submits to your mouth’s assault, his body relaxing into the couch like he's letting you have your way with him.
Jeongguk doesn't tell you that he is. That your lips are a holy grail he'd happily yield to.
When your teeth graze lightly at a particular soft spot below his ear, he lets out a small groan, eyes falling closed at the sensation. You feel the sound roll through you, the ache between your legs becoming hard to ignore when you think about the fact that you've roused that melody from his mouth.
It spurs you on, makes you want to hear it again and again. You want to paint the entire column of his neck red and then watch your confession of love fade to a bruised purple in the weeks to come. You want to rediscover all the ways that you can make Jeongguk sing, and the way your body dances to his tune in turn. Your lips lap him up, kisses becoming indelicate with desperation, teeth nipping with intent along his upper jaw, tongue tracing over the skin before you repeat all these gestures twicefold.
You can feel yourself growing wet, relish in the way that Jeongguk's hands tighten around your form. “Shit,” He mumbles and your body crows. Without pause, you shift against his lap and move to the neglected side of his neck, targeting the skin there. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, your core situated right above his growing erection, and it causes a shiver to run down your spine.
You plant a few messy kisses against his throat, nibbling vehemently, but then Jeongguk tuts and pries his eyes open before you have the opportunity to really sink your teeth into him.
“Baby,” He warns, curling a hand into your hair to form a makeshift ponytail. “No marks. I've got a presentation on Monday.” He says and pulls you back by an inch. His movements are somewhat hesitant, voice rough, like he's not entirely sure he truly wants you to stop.
But he has to. He can't afford to show up to class on Monday and present the most important project of his life with hickeys all over his neck.
“Next time.” He promises, but you consider outright ignoring him for a second, even though it's nonsensical, like some twisted form of punishment for a week of neglect.
But it’s Jeongguk—Jeongguk who’s been extra stressed lately about completing his degree. Jeongguk who’s carving time out of working on his big assignment right now—one which, not only counts forty percent of his grade, but could also earn him an internship at one of the top law firms in Seoul if he's lucky enough—all to pay special attention to you.
So, “Fine.” You give in, albeit a little petulantly, and brace your hands against his chest, face feeling flushed. “I’m sorry. I just wanna be close to you is all.”
“I know. Me too.” He rasps, grip on your hair loosening a touch, but not completely. “We don't have to stop though, just don't mark me up.” He explains, free hand rubbing up and down your thigh.
“Okay,” You slide your palms up his chest, feeling the toned muscles tense beneath your touch. “I really love you, you know?”
Jeongguk's eyes soften, a hint of a smile creeping up on his face. “I know,” He hums, tugging at your hair in a way that makes your scalp tingle. “But I don't think it comes close to how much I love you.” He rasps, using his grip as leverage to pull your head backwards until the delicate skin of your throat is exposed. “It's incomparable.” He murmurs, placing a single kiss on the side of your mouth before he travels south, lips peppering across your jawline.
You shiver, hands twisting into the thick material of Jeongguk's t-shirt. You want to tell him that it's not a competition, that you'd love him until the sun stops rising and, even if this one week of distance had been more, you know that he feels the same.
But the heavy palpitations in your chest causes the words to dissolve on your tongue because Jeongguk pulls the collar of your shirt to the side a second later, exposing more of your skin, before he traces a path along your décolletage. He's touching you like a starved man, mouth just as desperate and feverish as you’re starting to feel.
A stuttered gasp escapes your lips, your hands moving upwards, unsure of where to be, when he nips at a particularly sensitive spot. You settle them on his shoulders.
“Jeongguk,” You moan, the tingling between your legs maturing into an unbearable ache.
“I know, baby.” He abruptly pulls away from your clavicle—lips red, eyes blown. “Tell me what you want.”
His demand goes over your head because you don't know what you want; can barely think straight with the lingering feeling of Jeongguk's lips on your neck. With the growing wetness sticking uncomfortably to your panties. With the burning, hot embers laying at the base of your stomach, begging to be set ablaze. And Jeongguk knows that. Knows that you're neither here nor there, only somewhere in the middle, teetering on the line of endless choices. So he lets go of your hair then, manoeuvres your body until you're straddling only his left thigh.
“Don't think about it, baby.” He murmurs, both hands moving to your hips. He guides them back and forth, slow and gentle, with just enough pressure to relieve that desperate throbbing in your pussy. “Just feel.”
And you do, sinking into your own little bubble, a paradise as impenetrable as the gates of heaven. You take your time to grind up against him, moving in tandem with the flow of his hands and a soft whimper climbs up your throat at the sensation of your clit brushing against the firm muscles of Jeongguk’s thigh. You're already so soaked, underwear absolutely sodden from the relentless pendular motions of your pelvis, and when you look down to find a dark, damp spot beginning to stain Jeongguk's sweatpants, you can't help but intensify your movements.
It should be embarrassing, how quickly you've become turned on, how much you're dripping, when Jeongguk's barely touched you, but instead you just feel liberated. Pure power coursing through your veins because your boyfriend has given you the reins, is letting you use his body like a bitch in heat, and it's exhilarating; intoxicating every facet of your mind.
“That's it,” Jeongguk purrs, deserting your hips once you gain momentum to instead sneak both hands up the hem of your shirt.
Your breath escapes its chambers when he trails past the soft curve of your waist and straight to your breasts. “Fuck, you're so beautiful.” He grunts, gaze intent on your every reaction, like he's watching artwork unfold. His nimble fingers circle your nipples, tracing them with the most tantalizing pattern, until they begin to harden.
“Please,” You choke, clasping his shirt in between your fists like it's some sort of lifeline. You're not even sure what you're begging for, pace quickening as you ride Jeongguk’s thigh more aggressively. Every rut forward sends sparks shooting throughout your body, nerve endings alight, and when Jeongguk pinches your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, your back arches in pleasure. A throaty moan penetrates the room otherwise filled with nothing but your uneven pants and the sound of Jeongguk's voice.
“Gonna make you feel so good,” He groans, hands inching towards your shirt’s lower seam. He drags it over your torso, itching for better access to your breasts. Even in your muddled state, you meet him halfway, raising your arms above your head until the damned thing is off and you're left in nothing but your lacy underwear.
You hardly have time to adjust to the humid air hitting your torso, when Jeongguk tips his head forward, enveloping your right nipple into his mouth with reckless abandon. The response is instantaneous, a strangled sob slipping past your lips at the feeling of his warm mouth encased around your stiffened peak. His tongue swipes across your nipple, shockwaves manifesting at the blissful contact, and you don't know how much longer you're going to last—an embarrassing feat you don’t ponder on too much.
Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the attention Jeongguk pays you. Whimpering when the pads of his fingers move to fondle the nipple of your forsaken breast while the other submits to his mouth’s pleasurable torment, each purposeful pinch causing them to tighten all the more. Your skin feels like it's on fire, the warmth of Jeongguk's touch igniting the cinders glowing from deep within your belly. “I-I think,” You swallow, your pussy rubbing deliciously into Jeongguk's leg. “I think I'm going to come soon,” You manage to admit through a repressed whine, voice so strained it sounds foreign even to your own ears.
You don't think you've ever hit an orgasm this quickly. You've never had to. Because you and Jeongguk are like inseparable magnets; every atom in your bodies drawn to each other, always connecting like two poles seeking the other out—never going more than a few days without some form of intimacy. Never mind a week.
At least, not until now.
So when Jeongguk bounces his leg upwards to meet the force of your pussy coming down on his quadricep, adding to the way you slam into him, your clit positively throbbing at the impact, you feel the onset of that familiar coil in your stomach tightening.
“Just let go, baby.” Jeongguk rasps, granting you permission with one final flick of your nipples and then you're coming undone, white fiery heat flooding every fiber of your body, as you cry out his name. Only his name, forever on your lips. You feel the way your entire form convulses, the way Jeongguk helps you through it, flexing his thigh so that you can get the most out of your orgasm, and your hips buck forward—unrelenting and greedy—before they finally ease into a slow rut. Grinding into him until the receding, minuscule waves of pleasure begin to fade.
With the last few clenches of your pulsating core, you slowly catch your breath, muscles slackening as you become pliant in Jeongguk's arms, the weight of your body suddenly too much for you to bear. Your boyfriend holds you tight though, both hands moving to your waist to keep you secure.
Behind the darkness of your closed eyelids; you hear Jeongguk softly murmur your name and feel the way his hand comes up to your face, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear before he cups your cheeks. “You okay, angel?” He asks, voice emerging as a hushed tone.
When you manage to tear your eyes open and give him a soft, affirmative nod, Jeongguk seems satisfied, pressing a delicate kiss to your sternum before he shifts you from his lap and onto your back in one fell, but gentle swoop.
Your head hits the soft leather of the sofa with the aftermath of your climax still lingering against your skin like crackling electricity, fuzzing up your mind. “You think you can take more?” He asks, eyes flitting across your face to get a read on your current state of mind.
You nod your head assuredly, reaching out to make a grab for his body, to bring him closer. “Yeah I can,” You say confidently, arm's snaking up his back to explore the taut muscles that reside there.
Jeongguk is hovering over your body, thigh pressed hotly between your legs, and even though you can feel the rush of arousal, brought on only a second ago, pooling uncomfortably in your underwear—you want more. You want him. “I want to carry on.”
Jeongguk studies your demeanour, casting your body and expression a careful once-over, because he wants to feel you, be in you, wants to make you see stars. But it's only a matter of whether you're able to handle that right now. He has barely had his way with you, but you already look so fucked out, so perfect for him. It makes the blood rush straight to his dick. “You make me crazy.” He rasps, eyes locking with yours as he brings a hand up, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip.
You almost cower beneath his touch, beneath the sincerity of his gaze; appraising the very depths of your being as if you were a delicate treasure, as if he were staring at a god or something of a divine beauty.
Jeongguk thinks that maybe he is; thinks you’re the light, the one thing he’d worship morning, noon and night through blind faith. And there are barely enough words in the dictionary for him to express this notion to you, so instead he settles for “I love you.” Voice as rough as the high tides, but softer than moonlight.
He feels compelled to tell you this every chance he gets, a hopeless slave to his feelings for you. “Like I've never loved anything else in my life.” He continues. It's a quiet confession in the night, not a new one, but the words mean just as much as the first time he admitted them to you.
You feel yourself melt, can't remember ever feeling this cherished. Not since before Jeongguk and hopefully, never after. “I love you too.” You murmur, taking a moment to drink in every detail of the man who has left you restless all night.
Your eyes flicker over the defined cut of his jaw. The delicate curve of his lips and the pretty mole resting just beneath it. The small kissable scar on his cheek. The feathery flutter of his eyelashes. The strands of hair that have fallen over his face, and you retract your hand from his back to push them away.
How did you ever get this lucky?
“So much.” You emphasize and your voice thickens with the weight of your words, spoken from the very depths of your soul. “More than you could ever know.” Because there aren't enough words in the dictionary to get this notion across, so instead you lift your head, planting a firm kiss to Jeongguk’s lips as if sealing a vow, a promise of forever.
Jeongguk receives your kiss like he does with everything else related to you; openly, hungrily. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip—once—twice—and you instantly become pliant under his weight. Your fingers find his hair, tangling into the dark tresses as you deepen the kiss. It’s hot and it’s heavy, and in the distant part of your mind, you register that Jeongguk tastes like peaches, most likely from the alcohol he’s been drinking.
The sweetness of his lips immediately goes to your head; drunk and euphoric, and all grace flies out the window the next second. “Touch me,” You murmur breathlessly against his mouth, fingertips skimming over the nape of his neck. “Please, I need you.”
Jeongguk groans, a husky sound resonating from deep within his throat. “Fuck,” You can feel how rock hard he’s gotten, his erection pressing into your inner thigh and it's making you delirious with need. “I’ll give you anything you want.” Jeongguk rumbles, his mouth forming a wet, messy trek away from yours to embrace the flesh of your breasts.
You want to tell him that it's him, only him you want. Puppeteering your every move, body relinquishing itself to his touch. But you don't. You can't, not when Jeongguk's teeth leave scarlet marks across your chest that render you mute, words evaporating on your tongue like sacramental bread.
“My pretty baby,” He coos tenderly and you fight the urge to rut up against him. “Always so fucking ready for me.“ He praises, kisses traveling southward and it burns, searing, everywhere that Jeongguk touches you. You think you might erupt or shatter, and nothing less, if he doesn't meet you where you really need him to, your cunt begging to be satiated with his fingers, or his tongue, or his dick—anything.
A whimper escapes your lips, an embarrassing, desperate sound hanging in the thick air, as you glance down past your heaving breasts. You watch as Jeongguk abandons your boobs, planting a trail of kisses across the expanse of your stomach, your hip bones—takes the tiny little ribbon on your underwear between his teeth and tugs. The deliberate gesture causes your panty to rise up a bit, ever so slightly brushing against your clit in the process, and you bite down on your bottom lip, holding back an ungodly moan.
You can't take it anymore, all this teasing.
Jeongguk can read it on your face; sees it in the way you swiftly tilt your head back, eyes closed, brows scrunched together. He knows you like the back of his hand, which is how he gauges that you've fallen back into a place of submission—done with the tortuous foreplay, done with calling the shots, done with delaying the inevitable. You want him to fuck you, to use your body the same way you had used his mere minutes ago. And if his dick could get any harder at the thought, it would.
Jeongguk licks his lips, slips a finger into the curve of your waistband as he murmurs, “I’m gonna take this off now, okay?”
You nod your head, not daring to open your eyes to confront the image of Jeongguk's face a mere hair's breadth away from your cunt. It's too erotic. Too much. You feel him drag the thin garment down your legs, a string of arousal following suit, and suddenly feel self-conscious, attempting to close your legs to hide how shamefully wet you are.
But Jeongguk's not having any of that.
He carelessly chucks the lacy material to the side like it’s nothing but a rag, a nuisance, and then grips your inner thigh. “Don't you dare,” He grunts, using his grasp to keep your legs apart, lifting them upwards until your knees are bent to your chest and your ankles are resting over his shoulders, giving him the perfect view of your dripping cunt.
You barely have time to register the ticklish feeling of Jeongguk's breath fanning against your core before he dives straight in, licking a long stripe across your pussy, and your hips instinctively buck up. “Shit,” You mewl, rejoicing in the way his tongue traverses from your slit to your clit, lapping up every drop of arousal.
Jeongguk groans, a sound so low, stemming from the heart of his diaphragm, when he samples that first morsel of your leaking nectar. You taste like heaven, so sweet and unbearably wet, and all just for him.
“So fucking good,” He grumbles, mouth drinking you in. His tongue is unrelenting in its efforts to devour your pussy, and the overwhelming sensation of him slurping and sucking—of him eating you out like a connoisseur tasting the rarest of delicacies—causes frenzied pools of pleasure to ripple within the base of your belly.
He keeps at it, nose brushing against your clit as a byproduct, and after a few minutes the pure, unwavering rapture of Jeongguk's tongue becomes excruciating. A feeling so good, it’s almost too much. “Jeongguk,” You wail, heels digging into the couch as you try to back away from his mouth, but your boyfriend merely hooks his arms around your legs and pulls you closer. Holding you in place; unable to run or escape from the ruthless onslaught of his tongue, from the metal bite of his piercing brushing against your lower lips. “I can't,” You cry, writhing beneath his touch.
With his grip keeping you firmly anchored, Jeongguk brings one hand down to toy with your swollen clit, fingers moving in languid, clockwise motions. “You can,” He grunts thickly, tongue slipping between your folds and prodding deliciously at your hole. “I know you can, baby.” He mumbles in between fucking your drenched pussy with his fleshy muscle.
You shake your head frantically, eyes screwed shut, as you feel the waves of your second orgasm surfacing. “Not like this,” You beg, using your hands to reach down, fingers twisting into his fluffy hair as you desperately try to push him away. “Please, I want you in me.” A sob runs free, your walls pulsating around nothing because Jeongguk is taking his time with you, teasing your opening like he's got all night. But you don't. You're close, so fucking close, you can feel it in the tightening muscles of your pelvis, in the quivering of your legs.
But Jeongguk isn't giving you enough. He isn't giving you what you need. Your boyfriend, in all his hot glory, is taking you there with his tongue, swirling insufferably along your orifice—bringing you right up to the edge of the plank with an ocean of pleasure waiting just below your feet, but then he pulls you back. Drags you from the precipice before you can allow yourself to fall in, and it causes a frustrated whine to escape your lips. You need his cock deep inside, filling you up, pushing you off the ledge and into troubled waters. Your pussy throbs at the very thought. “Please Kook,” You find yourself beseeching for the second time. “I wanna cum with you in me.”
And any thread of composure Jeongguk has been holding on to up until that point, snaps at the pure neediness burrowed within your tone.
He looks up at you; lips glistening, eyes dilated—a mess of a man. But you don't look any better—or, if you were getting a glimpse of yourself through Jeongguk's point of view, never better—skin flushed, gleaming with a fine film of sweat, lips swollen from the way you've been biting them, and all at once, Jeongguk is overcome with the desire to give you everything you've ever wanted.
“Fuck, okay,” He curses, rising to his knees and you force your eyes open at the rough edge tainting his voice, at the overwhelming relief of getting what you wished for. “But it’s going to be a bit of a stretch, baby.” He says, not having prepped you fully. It's been a while since the two of you have had sex and, if he had it his way, he would have given you his fingers first, would have warmed and widened your lubricated walls, to ease the initial discomfort of him entering you.
But you look so pretty beneath him, so impatient, and—“I can handle it,” You mollify, voice a sweet concoction of sultry persuasion.
He nods in response, a curt motion, because if he thinks about how eager you're being, about how you're willing to take a little bit of the pain for the insurmountable pleasure, he might just come right there. Might just think of all the other ways you like to hurt; of the way you'd react if his palm made rough contact with your ass cheeks, or what would happen if he handcuffed you to his bedpost and stuffed you full with a vibrator and butt plug—if he fucked you tonight with no end in sight. He wonders if you'd cry, if you'd beg him for more or want him to stop, sopping and spent. More than that, he wants so badly to find out.
Jeongguk’s dark eyes find yours, their typical doe-eyed demeanour having turned hooded a long time ago. Yours are twinkling with anticipation, watching intently as he pulls his sweatpants down, letting them hang low beneath his buttocks. His cock immediately springs free, slapping against his stomach, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip at the sight.
“Come here,” Jeongguk's voice carries a jagged intonation, raw and untamed, and breaks through you like crashing waves. But when he makes a grab for your body, his hands are nothing but gentle, hoisting you up onto your knees and positioning you on all fours.
With your ass bared before him, face pressed into the cold faux leather of the couch, Jeongguk smooths a hand down your back, watches with satisfaction as your spine yields before his touch, and then he takes a hold of his dick. Doesn't even bother giving it a few preliminary pumps because he's already painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip as he lines himself with your hole.
He doesn't put it in though.
First, he teases your little cunt with only the head of his length, not fully embedding himself within your warmth just yet. You whimper pathetically at the testing prod, fingers balling into frustrated fists, while Jeongguk watches in awe as your entrance narrows, pleading to be stuffed.
“God, look at you.” Jeongguk groans, eyes traveling from your glistening pussy to the state of your overall servile form.
He places one hand on your hip, fingers digging into the skin there, as he inches just the slightest bit forward, his dick slowly pushing into you. Your mouth parts at the sensation and you shakily prop yourself up onto your elbows, head falling forward with a moan. “So fucking needy, huh.” He goads when you attempt to meet him in the middle, subtly backing up against his pelvis.
“No,” You shake your head as if it's some sort of lie, as if you haven't been thinking about this moment since you stepped over the doorsill of Jeongguk’s apartment earlier. And your boyfriend laughs—he actually laughs—a maniacal, derisive sound that rings in your ears.
“There's no need to deny it, baby.” He drawls like smooth liquor hitting the back of your throat, a silky succour that, for some reason, has you dumbly nodding along. Because Jeongguk’s entering you more now, his dick fighting against the tight restraint of your heat, and you're too distracted by the feeling of it to fully comprehend what he's saying.
“I mean,” He continues, reaching down between your legs to gather the wetness clinging to your folds before he bends over your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You’d think you've never been fucked a day in your life.” He murmurs, bringing his slick fingers to your level of sight.
You flush instantly, burning at the way your arousal dwells on Jeongguk's digits and forms a translucent web when he parts them into a V shape. “I can't help it,” You breathe shamefully, about to protest that it's his fault for letting you go so long without attention, for not taking care of your sexual needs and making you this susceptible to moments of depravity, when Jeongguk fully entrenches himself into your heat without so much as a warning.
“Aah,” Your jaw slackens at the sudden stretch of his length against your walls, the sensation so unfairly delicious you find yourself clenching around the intrusion with gasp, and your boyfriend uses the opportunity to stuff his letch-laiden fingers into your mouth.
“Clean them.” He grunts, lazily rocking forward and you choke back a moan, mouth instantly closing around his fingers. Head full of clouds, pussy filled to the brim, you obey. Your tongue licks up the juices stuck to his slim digits, gliding sensually across each one with care, and you vaguely hear Jeongguk curse below his breath, hips grinding into your core. “Fuck, just like that, angel.” He praises, allowing you to suck them clean for a few more seconds before he pulls them from your lips altogether with a lewd pop.
“Such a good girl,” He murmurs lovingly, pressing a singular kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightens to his full height behind you. “Always so perfect for me.”
Jeongguk's hands find your ass again and he gives the supple flesh a few gentle squeezes, savouring the way you whine in response.
“Please,” Your words come out embarrassingly broken and wretched, heart hammering in your chest with want, as you peek at Jeongguk over your shoulder. “Please, no more teasing. Just fuck me.”
“What do you think I'm doing?” Jeongguk asks, eyebrow raised, voice harbouring a hue of cockiness. He withdraws his thick length from your warm embrace at an agonizingly slow rate before thrusting right back in, repeating the motion steadily. “I'm fucking you right now, aren't I?”
You want to cry, your need to come so severe, it's starting to physically hurt.
Your fingers leave deep indents in the couch as you tackle the burning coals of frustration setting every inch of your body on fire. “M-More,” You stammer, feeling a pearl of arousal trickle down your thigh. You're so turned on right now, your mind an empty haze as Jeongguk edges you into oblivion, cunt so wet, you can barely feel the brush of his shaft against your walls anymore. “I need more.”
Jeongguk grins, feels the crown of his cock brush against a particular soft spot, and then decides to give you what you want. Because he loves it when you beg, when you become a blubbering mess beneath him, so cock-hungry, you forget yourself.
Without a moment's pause, Jeongguk pounds into you with unbridled vigour. His hips slap against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, and your body jerks forward at the impact. Your core is so drenched he's able to enter you with little resistance now. Emitting a rough, throaty groan, he fixates on how your creamy arousal coats his cock, disappearing in and out of your cunt.
“F-Fuck,” You hiss, your hand reaching back to firmly grip Jeongguk’s wrist for support, but he takes advantage of your extended arm and yanks you up until your back is pressed to his chest.
The new position gives him better access to your front and Jeongguk ghosts a hand around your waist without a second thought, smooths it down your stomach until he reaches your clit. Your body jolts the instant his fingers make contact with the swollen bud, legs quivering with the strength it's taking you to stay upright.
Your boyfriend notices your struggle and hooks his other arm around your waist, his fingertips holding you so tightly you won't be surprised if some bruises appear there tomorrow.
“Fuck, I've missed this.” He rasps, more to himself than you, whilst drilling against your g-spot. But the words affect you just the same as your pussy tightens in response, squeezing him into a death grip, and Jeongguk's hips stutter. “Jesus,” He groans, making a mental effort to stave off his own orgasm, trying to focus solely on you.
You really are going to be the death of him.
He breathes heavily through his nostrils before starting up again, slowly driving into you and his cock burrows so deep, you swear you can feel it in your uterus.
His fingers skim over your clit, tracing the nub ever so slightly because you're starting to flinch from his touch, starting to grow sensitive. And when your head falls back against his shoulder, a choked whine forcing its way out your throat, Jeongguk knows that you're close.
“You gonna come for me?” Jeongguk's lips brush against your temple, his hand deserting your pussy in sympathy to knead your breasts instead. You feel his thumb run over your nipple, static lightning steamrolling across your skin with each sweep.
“I-ah!” You can barely form a coherent sentence, the inklings of even one lucid thought slipping from your empty, fucked out mind as Jeongguk slams into you. He's setting a brutal pace, the noise of skin-against-skin undeniably obscene, but you can hardly find the will to care when the muscles in your abdomen begin to tense. They twist up like a clockwork toy, winding and winding, until Jeongguk hits a particular spot that makes your toes curl, and then you're coming undone for the second time tonight, knees buckling with the sheer force of your orgasm.
It hits you like a freight train, your body spasming. White dots of euphoria blur your vision, the pleasure so blinding, and Jeongguk's hold around your midsection is the only reason you don't collapse right there onto the couch.
“That's it, baby.” He reveres, hips never ceasing their movements even as your walls contract sporadically, determined to fuck you through it. An uncannily pornstar moan spills from your lips, mind and body having finally plunged into the silvery, stormy torrents of your climax, and the strangled sound causes something impossibly primal to rupture within Jeongguk. It thrashes at his chest like a wild caged animal, demanding release, and he recognizes the feeling all too well.
“You're mine, right? ” He finds himself grunting, voice husky with strain. The hand that was attending to your boobs instinctively ascends to your throat, squeezing slightly as he chases his own high, gives in to that grueling streak of possessiveness that only every rears its head when he has you like this—naked and vulnerable—and you groan at the familiar pressure.
You hum, walls clenching around him. “Only yours.” Your own hand reaches up, cuffing around his wrist for support as a tremor runs down your spine.
Jeongguk feels his balls tighten, the knowledge that he’s the sole witness to this side of you, so subservient and docile, sets him off the deep end.
Then you angle your head to the side, joining your lips with his. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, but the intimacy of it all causes Jeongguk's last bit of composure to crack.
He spills into you with a groan, the sound muffled by your mouth, as he rocks forward until every last drop of his seed is snug within your warmth.
The feeling of his cum bursting inside of you, length twitching, causes your pussy to flutter by reflex, milking Jeongguk of every ounce of cum, only suspending their contractions once he's thoroughly depleted.
By the end, you're both a heaving mess; chests rising and falling in unison as you come down, the electric current pulsing through your bodies fading into a comfortable hum.
Your skin is still buzzing, head befuddled, when Jeongguk presses a few lazy kisses across your shoulder—as if to ground you, to bring you back from the constellations he's painted behind your eyes.
“You were so good, baby.” He commends, smoothing the hair at the side of your profile and you can't help the soft, but dopey smile that breaks out onto your face then.
“I've been dreaming about that for forever.” You murmur, submitting to the assault of his lips. Your boyfriend chuckles in return, nuzzling your neck as he commits the smell of your skin, an alluring scent of sex and lavender, to his memory.
“Me too,” He hums, thumb gliding gently across the contour of your waist. Your sensitive pussy throbs at the light touch, rousing from the stimulation; which only reminds you of the unpleasant remnants of arousal coating your inner thighs.
As if reading your mind, Jeongguk whispers against your skin. “Let's get you cleaned up, okay?”
He eyes your figure carefully, waiting for any hint of consent before he leaves you here alone.
You manage to muster a nod and then feel his dick slip from your entrance a second later, withdrawing in a way that makes you cringe and leaves you feeling oddly empty.
“I’ll be right back.” He assures, his lips quickly, but comfortingly, brushing against your hairline. Thereafter, from your peripheral, you see Jeongguk detach himself from your side, pulling his pants back up as he disappears into the bathroom to do what he does best—take care of you.
In the meantime, you resist the temptation to slump back onto the sofa, feeling a hefty load of cum leaking down your thighs. Every muscle in your body feels relaxed, those sparks from earlier sizzling down into sleepy, smoky remnants that weigh you down. Mind a dazed mess, not sure of how much time has passed, you almost give in—the slumber you so desperately sought out at the beginning of the night finally settling into your bones—when Jeongguk walks back into the living room. He's changed into a pair of briefs and is carrying a wet cloth, as well as, a small tube of ointment.
Your body instantly perks up, a little rejuvenated by his presence.
“Hey,” Jeongguk murmurs once he's back in your close vicinity, fingers brushing against your cheeks as he peers down at you with a soft smile.
“Hey,” You tiredly grin back, pointing a finger at the items in his hand. “Those for me?”
Jeongguk hums, draping an arm around your waist to steady you. If you had the energy to freshen yourself up, you honestly would but currently, you can barely keep your eyes open. So instead you lean on your boyfriend—figuratively and literally—clutching onto his biceps as he brings the warm cloth to your nether regions. You hiss a little at the contact, still feeling delicate down there, but Jeongguk handles you with a gentle mindfulness that makes your heart swell. Makes you think back to a little over an hour ago, when you were alone in bed unable to fall asleep because he wasn't there.
And sometimes it worries you. How much you need him. How much something as simple and basic as sleep, needs the warmth of his touch to make its mark on you. How much you’ve grown to love him in the span of a few months, your life endlessly orbiting around him like the earth to the sun. How much the deepest crevices of your soul, where the vile fear of abandonment and instinctual desire to run, relinquish themselves to the light of Jeongguk’s unconditional love.
You watch him toss the used washcloth to the side before unscrewing the top of the ointment. Sigh; as his fingers, tender with purpose, apply dabs of vitamin K salve to your hips where the marks from his fingertips are starting to surface. “Shit, I'm so sorry baby.” He apologizes, the raspy, hushed tone of his voice communicating how guilt-ridden he feels. “I didn't mean to be this rough.”
And, you've never known a love like this. One that rustles through your hair like the wind on the drive down to your parents. One that meets you in the dead of winter between classes, wrapped up in coats and scarves, and coffee as the snow falls. One that kisses you goodnight, hands cupping your cheeks while the street lamps flicker outside.
One that dresses all your bruises.
It makes you want to run in the opposite direction every now and then, fleeing until you forget that you ever knew it could be this good, this safe.
But, staring at Jeongguk and the careful, intricate way he's massaging ointment onto all your black-and-blues, you bury these trepidations away, laying them to rest in the one place they belong—the past.
Because yes, you’ve never had this sort of love before—the seriousness, the commitment.
The emptied-out drawers for your clothes.
The spare toothbrush at his place.
The conversations of a future together—the clear line being crossed from fling to forever.
Even though it's a concept so scary and unfamiliar, and foreign to you—you never want to let it go.
You never want to let him go.
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doki-doki-imagines · 5 months
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Who falls for the mistletoe trick? feat. mk1 Liu Kang, Johnny Cage, Tomas, Mileena, Kuai Liang
author note: another severe case of "I'll die if I don't post them today" LOL. Hope you'll like them!
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Liu Kang -He falls for it. -For real? The creator of this timeline didn't expect a mistletoe from his partner at the entrance of their shared house? -Yes, Liu Kang knew from day one that this would happen, and he waited, breath itching and hands tingling in front of the doorstep each day since December started. -You point up, a knowing smirk on your face and Liu Kang acts surprised, white eyes widening a bit before looking down at you. "What a surprise, dear one." His voice is steady, like always, but your ears twitch, a mischievous undertone you can hear thanks to the time you spent together. "You knew this would happen right?" You said now in his open arms, steps lulling you, door closing thanks to Liu Kang's graceful kick. "Maybe" He looks up smiling like a fool "Now it is time to celebrate traditions." -You are the first to get closer, your lips pressed against his soft ones, his right hand finding peace in the back of your head, pushing you closer, the other on your lower back, moving in slow circle, his fire slowly enveloping you, his tattoos hidden under the bandages glowing faintly. -Liu Kang loves Earthrealm traditions.
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Johnny Cage -He doesn't fall for it, but you do for sure. -Not like you had any chance when all the ceiling is filled with mistletoes. -He welcomes you with open arms, smiling from one ear to the other knowing perfectly well that you won't avoid celebrating the tradition. -He asks for a kiss each step you make, they are fast, simple smacks. -Till, one step at a time, the back of Johnny hits the table, your body now laying on his one, not a single breath of air to separate your bodies. -His kisses trail down your neck, his moist lips leaving you warm all over, his right hand lifting one of your legs. -It's time to take the matter in a more comfortable place… -Bonus: How could you not expect Johnny to have mistletoe-themed boxers? "Since you have been so loyal to the tradition it would be bad to break them now, no kitty?" He says smirking, while you don't know if you wanna die or laugh at the situation.
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Tomas Vrbada -He falls for it! Congrats, it's not easy to surprise a ninja. -Tomas knows what a mistletoe means, he remembers when he watched with his sister Christmas movies, disgust plastered on his face. -Tomas feels giddy, a warmth that envelopes him completely. -He feels like a fool, a dumb kid during Christmas, a giggle escapes his mouth "So, don't I get a kiss?" His arms are open. -'It should be the other way around' you think, but it doesn't develop further, more excited to kiss your lover. -He is so overjoyed his legs become jelly, Tomas could only dream of being so loved by someone. -A simple gesture that brought him immense joy, fingers tapping on your back, playing your skin like a piano. -"Why so happy Tomas? Did I do something funny?" You question, lips barely apart. "You just reminded me of happy memories." He replies, hands now steady on your hips, grey eyes twinkling with joy.
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Mileena -She…doesn't fall for it. Not because she knows what a mistletoe hanging from the ceiling means, but because of her observation skill. -"Dear, why there is a plant on the ceiling?" Voice rasped, head bending slightly. "Well, it's a long story…" -You explain to her what it means, never looking at her in the eyes, worried she find the tradition (and you) stupid. -She smiles, 'thank god' you think, her plush lips finding yours before you can finish the explanation, making you stutter. The kiss is fast and for sure not satisfying, leaving you aching for more. -"Is this fine, dove?" her arms lay on your shoulders, keeping your bodies close, lips so close, but also so far away… "I think I'll have to show you how to do this, Empress" You finally close the distance, courage finally sparked your soul. Mileena grunts, a shiver runs down her spine thanks to her fave honorific. -You didn't exchange just one kiss that day.
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Kuai Liang: -He totally did notice the mistletoe but also doesn't know the meaning behind it so he just walks by. -"Ah, mister! Stop right there" Index finger touching his chest, hidden by so many layers of clothing "It's time to pay up." one hand caresses his cheek, while the other glides in his onyx locks, smirk plastered on your face. -But…he doesn't move? His brown eyes look at you questioning. "So you don't know about the mistletoe tradition, mh baby?" "Care to explain, fireball?" His eyebrows furrow, way more focused than he needs to be. -And so you do, looking at his face getting softer and softer at each phrase, just to end up snickering, a familiar sparkle in his brown eyes. -"You really find any occasion to get a kiss from me." "Are you saying you'd rather not?" You pull away, watching him in fake annoyance, eyes glued to his to notice if he takes the bait. -He does, a kiss fierce as he is, a kiss that leaves you breathless but that you wish it to be neverending. -"Is this fine?" Kuai Liang asks, a hint of jolly in his voice. "Yeah, but I think you should do that again, you know, just to be su-" -You won't need to finish the phrase.
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part II
1 2 3 4 5
Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.
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"Can I hold her?" You dread the question. The way he asks it, the way he looks at you, the way you know he's going out of his comfort zone to come to your house, knowing you don't want him there.
"Sure." You put your pride aside, having the best interest of your baby in mind. The little girl is placed carefully in his arms, and it breaks your heart to see just how well she fits there, like a missing puzzle piece.
"She's so beautiful." He whispers, brown eyes fully focused on his daughter—his daughter. For someone who avoided the topic of family like the plague, the concept was still weird to even think about, despite the way the girl in his arms looked just like him when he was a baby, countless pictures hung around his house before they were permanently destroyed by his father in attempts to torment Mrs. Riley.
"What was that, Captain?" Simon crooned teasingly, leaning his head closer to the baby to try to understand the babbles that were slowly becoming more and more clear each passing week. Of course, she was still too young to talk, though the little girl loved babbling out at any given moment.
"She's lovely, isn't she? Shame she looks like you." Your words came out teasing for the first time ever since you saw him again, the banter in your previous friendship coming back for a second as he playfully glared down at you.
"Shame she acts like me too." He jested, the baby's mannerisms very reminiscent of his own. You poke your tongue out at him jokingly before looking back down at your daughter, the strings of your heart being pulled the more you stare at her. The little creature doesn't cry much, luckily, so you have all the time in the world to simply admire what you created— what you both created.
"Look at her tongue stickin' out." Simon pointed out to the baby's tiny tongue sticking out, a quiet laugh leaving his lips at the way she imitated you. You gently pinch her chubby cheek, planting a kiss on her forehead as a small laugh escapes you too. It's not hard for her to steal your heart, Simon noticed.
"Hush, darlin', daddy's busy flirtin' with mommy." He knows he's overstepping, but... it's worth the risk. He wants what you used to have back then, despite knowing he doesn't deserve it. He'll prove himself, Simon promised since the first time he saw you again.
"Just so you know, this—" You point between him, the baby, and you. "Doesn't mean we're together. Not a chance." You try to be stern, though you both can't deny the look in your eyes. Still, you resist, not wanting to be disappointed again. Simon leaving is an open wound that never healed.
"I know." He replied after a few seconds, not looking at you. His eyes were focused on the baby, holding her close to his chest as she cuddled up to him, quieting down from her babbling. He sat down on the couch, one of his fingers absent-mindedly running over the features of his daughter.
"I'm thinkin' of retiring within a year or two, once Makarov's dead." He starts hesitantly, not daring to look at you just yet.
"Do you think the three of us can be a family? I know I messed up, and I'm sorry." He finally looks up at you, though only for a short second before he's getting up again, gently putting the baby in her crib. He gives her a small plushie to cuddle, soft blanket wrapped over her tiny frame. He comes back to you, bare hands hesitantly reaching for yours before noticing you're about to recoil back. He doesn't blame you.
"I'll do anything." He swears, taking a step back to respect your personal space. You look away for a few seconds, arms crossed and a small frown on your lips. The thought of Simon leaving or dying is always there, eating at the back of your mind.
"You're retiring?" Is all you can ask, not bothering to hide the sheer curiosity and confusion. Simon has been a soldier since he was 18— it's all he knows. He has given up his entire life and family— why stop now?
"Yeah. Think it's time to slow down... actually live life a little, for once. I had to retire at some point, yeah?" It wasn't an easy choice at all. He has bled for the army countless times, lost his family because of it, lost so many allies he can't even count them in his head, yet the tiny girl was the one that made him realize enough is enough.
"Interesting." It's all you reply, eyes slightly narrowed as you look deep into his, seeking for any signs of hesitation or lying. You find none.
"I'm serious. I can be a father to her, and... a husband to you, if you let me. Just like you wanted." Just like you told him you wanted things to be. Just like he thought about before breaking up with you after 4 years.
"Don't have to give me an answer now, but I'm retirin' and that's final." He went to grab his backpack, pulling out a folder. He placed it in front of you gently before giving his sleeping daughter a soft kiss on the forehead, eyes fully focused on her as he memorized her features. It's gonna be a long time until he sees her again.
"I'm deploying in an hour." He mentioned, his back turned towards you as you read the papers. His will, updated to include your daughter. Previously, it was only you there.
"Not comin' back for a long while, unless things go well. If shit hits the fan..." He knows it's always a possibility when dealing with Makarov.
"You'll both have enough to live a good life." He was getting choked up. Not crying or tearing up, but uncomfortable enough that he was struggling to speak.
"Simon." You call out and he turns his head towards you, slight surprise in his features. It's the first time you call him Simon since he came back into your life— it used to be Ghost, much to his dismay, to place even more space between you. He never said anything about it.
"Something to keep your heart safe." You walk up to him, both of your hands holding one of his, placing a hard object in his palm. He looks down at it and his heart almost stops.
The ID bracelet your baby wore shortly after she was born. He nods his head once in acknowledgment, expression growing more determined as his fingers trace the outline of the plastic.
"Come back to her safe." Your hand hesitantly went to the back of his neck, pulling him closer until his forehead was against yours. He lets you, and you're both stuck looking deep into each other's eyes for what feels like forever.
"Come back to us." You plant a soft kiss to his forehead before letting go, basking in the slight sense of normalcy, ignoring your worthless pride for once. He leans down and returns the kiss to your forehead, nodding once. He stares down at you, memorizing your features the same way he did with your daughter before turning around and leaving, swearing to keep the silent promise with a newfound sense of determination.
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gojoest · 10 months
Text
MDNI, f! reader, established relationship (you’re married), creampie, somno if you squint, calls you angel, basically gojo cumming on the spot
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you’re pulled out of dreamland by a loud moan filling the room from the spot behind you in bed. if it weren’t for the soft pecks tickling down the side of your neck, you would’ve thought your husband was having a steamy dream. but that’s not the case.
“nghh… satoru?”, you growl.
“finally. i’ve been moaning for the past 15 minutes in hopes to wake my hibernating bear up”, he breathes into your ear, “turns out”, he continues while pushing his lower body against yours, carefully adjusting his hardness between the crack of your ass, “it’s mating season”
“oh. that.”
again.
you often go to bed spooned with him enveloped around you like a cape — his left arm wrapped possessively over your side, elbow by your navel and his hand resting on your breast. his other arm passing under the right side of your waist with the palm and fingers tenderly placed on your shoulder. and in order to engulf you completely — satoru throws a leg over yours.
as uncomfortable as this position might sound, it actually brings both of you a sense of warmth and security. you feel protected in his huge arms while he’s at ease to have you there, safe and untouchable, like he’s your infinity — whatever comes to harm you, has to go through him first. you asked him once why he always wraps himself around you like that and the answer was one only he could come up with “to protect you in case the ceiling comes crashing down while we sleep”. you laughed, telling him to come up with a better excuse next time. he was dead serious though.
but often times spooning like this leads to something more, especially during summer nights when the both of you sleep naked, when it’s just flesh against flesh and his cock ends up hugged between the cheeks of your ass and his growing hardness forces him out of slumber.
“yes. that. pretty please? really want you right now…”, he coos, moving his hips slowly to place his cock between your legs, squeezed between your thighs, head poking out in front and tip leaking beggingly as if to reflect his plea.
you play your fingers on it, letting the precum smudge against your skin, “if you ask so nicely…”, you tease, moving your lower body back and forth to slide his dick along your pussy lips, smearing the flow of your own wetness all over it.
“fuck…”, he hisses, squeezing his ass cheeks and pushing against you in sync with your movements, “really wanna be inside you now”. his voice comes out needy, body covered in sweat from head to toe holding back until yours is completely prepared for love making, for taking all of him.
you tap your hand on his leg that’s still resting on top of yours, signaling to move it. after he complies, you lift yours slightly and guide him into you with your hand, pushing him slowly in. the gasp seeping from his mouth as he enters you is like music to your ears and knowing he’s been desperately waiting for this moment as his body twitches from the pleasure, is sending a tingling sensation through your abdomen and providing an extra flow of wetness between your legs.
“this— “, he grunts, stretching you slowly, feeling you around him as you take him inch by inch, “is where i truly belong”
“i’ll make sure to keep you there then”, you whisper breathily and put your hand between your legs to prevent him from slipping out, “see? all safe now”
to say this was his breaking point would be an understatement. a loud grunt fills your shared bedroom as he fervently bucks his hips into you three times before burying himself deep and erupting, filling you load after load.
“damn. you got me there, angel”, he chuckles breathily under his nose, head falling between the crook of your neck and shoulder to further hide his embarrassment in the already dark room, “you really just ruined your husband’s reputation by making him cum like a virgin after just a few strokes?”
“as if that’s never happened before”, you tease.
“give me a few seconds and you’re not sleeping tonight”
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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May I request the boys of Jujutsu Kaisen getting a lap pillow from their s/o?
No problem Anon! Enjoy them resting on your lap.
Pairing: Yuuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Mahito, Junpei Yoshino, Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, cuddles, kissing, marks, teasing, overworking, slightly suggestive
A/N: If you lay your head on my thighs I guarantee they will make for a good pillow.
Yuuji can't keep his goofy smile off his face when you pat your thighs and tell him to put his head down. He's careful where he puts his hands, he doesn't want to make you move on accident. The smile is permanently plastered on his face, even after he dozes off from how comfy and soft your thighs feel.
Sukuna demands your lap as his pillow. He shoots you a pointed look and scowls until you sit down so he can lay his head there. Now, no matter what he does, don't you dare move. When he turns his head he first lets his fangs scrape the soft flesh before slowly kissing his way up the inside of your thighs, avoiding where you want him most. This is supposed to be relaxation time after all, sexy time will come later.
Megumi isn't one to lay his head on your lap on his own, he's happy with just cuddles where he holds you against his chest. Had no idea thighs could be so comfortable. Knew yours were soft but he didn't think to sleep on them. What makes it funnier is that his Divine Dogs see this and then start nudging him away to make room for themselves.
Gojo says that he's tired but the moment you allow him to place his head on your lap he hooks his hands under them and spreads them apart. He lifts his blindfold to wink at you before he starts kissing you, leaving hickyes on your skin. You squirm to no avail against his grip. Once he's happy with the results he does actually lay his head on your, marked, thighs.
Nanami gets tired from work but he never asks for your lap. You know by now that he's always home on time so you're already waiting for him, taking off his suit jacked and giving him a kiss before you push your head on your lap. He doesn't say anything about your actions, he just lets you dote on him for a change, allowing the smallest smile on his face.
Geto just plops his dead on your lap and waits for you to bend down and give him a kiss. Takes every bit of self control he's got not to turn around and bury his head between your thighs right now. There will be time for that later, now he wants to enjoy a nice, relaxing head massage.
Mahito only lays his head in your lap after he's already eaten you up. Your thighs are still shaking from the aftershocks but he doesn't really mind that. He's using his tongue to clean you up, which only makes you more sensitive. Hold still, or he'll have to tie you up. There are already marks on your thighs, do you want to add more?
Junpei is too shy to even ask for something like a lap pillow. He's stiff for a while, unable to will himself to relax until you start running your fingers through his hair and over his cheek, brushing the hair off his eye. He lets out a yelp of surprise when you lean down to kiss his cheek, only then relaxing against your touches.
Toji keeps trying to kiss your thighs only for you to hold his head down, and cooing at him to take a break. He doesn't want one, he wants you. He knows you'll let him have his way eventually but he will also do the same, charge his batteries beforehand and maybe have a few nice dreams along the way.
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trafltr · 1 year
Text
i’m your national anthem | eren jaeger
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the note ☆ this is part two of my lana coded!eren ‘series’, see part one here. once again my soft spoken and older eren (drooling) spoiling his lovely little wife with everything he can but this time it’s at his place of work after she pays him a visit. it’s not as “cinematic” as the first part but i like this one a lot and it’s a birthday gift for myself lmao. inspired by national anthem (demo), lana del rey.
contains ☆ nsfw, fem!reader, stupidlyrich!eren, soft husband!eren, established relationship, semi-public sex (there are cameras), office sex, eren in a yummy suit, lotta praise, oral (m. receiving), handjobs, facefucking, vaginal, sex on a desk, backshots, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, panty stealing (kind of), possessive eren, he likes you in a sundress, use of pet names. black reader as always but it’s all subjective so read if you like it my loves <3
wc ☆ 4k words (it was meant to be much shorter lmao)
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eren jaeger is a successful man.
many would even stretch out as to say that he's almost won in life. he's made it on the forbes list, attended every exclusive gathering to be thrown in society, racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars in his chequing account; he's a well deserved ceo—not from start up connections, not from nepotism—eren jaeger has worked his way to the top from down below. and while he's considered to have everything a mortal man could ever dream of, eren believes his true fortune lies within you.
"mr. jaeger?" a timid voice calls from the entryway to the conference room, where a suit clad eren stands at the table's apex, which holds a stack of printed papers, with two other shareholders seated at the sides listening in on his presentation.
another thing about eren is that he likes rules—he has rules. there are rules employees know not to break; no bribes, no in house disputes, and certainly no entering his boardroom when having a meeting with his shareholders without his request. so when one of his brightest interns shifts uncomfortably under his gaze with a look of fear morphing his facial features, eren knows he’s been asked to do so by someone with more power than even him.
"i take it that my wife is here?" eren breathes, mindlessly running a hand through messy growing hair but still refusing to acknowledge the fact that you came at such an inconvenient time. "could she wait for another twenty minutes? we've almost concluded the contracts."
the sorry smile given by the intern is enough of an answer for him, "i don't think it would be appropriate for me to repeat the words she said, but she didn't give off the impression of wanting to wait long, sir."
so…spoiled.
he could already imagine how you would be waiting there; making yourself comfortable up on his desk, legs dangling in your four inch heels and tapping your nails against the glass whilst admiring the photo of the two of you on your honeymoon situated at the desks edge. of course, you would be doing this all with a small pout on your face, ready for you scold him for how long it's taken him to head back to you.
nursing an apologetic smile, he glances towards the man and woman on each side as if silently asking to resume this another time. they wave him off with small laughter, going on about keeping you happy and all the unimportant other things; eren's too preoccupied with going to see you to register their words.
he's quick making his way to the elevator, but not before swiping a single champagne coloured rose from a vase nearby; eren knows he can't show up empty handed, not with you. it's not irregular for you to come to his work so unannounced; at a random time on any given day. you strut around the office like it's yours, you make friends with the secretaries and listen to office gossip like you're one of them, and you tell his assistant all about the plans the two of you have like he doesn't already know. at this point his employees hold you in higher regard than they do him.
it's expected though; seeing how you have their boss contorted around your pretty finger.
your face lights up from it's bored expression when you hear the elevator chime. it takes four of eren's long strides to reach his office doors, and he opens it to a carbon copy of what he'd imagined only minutes ago.
"'ren!" smiling at his tall frame, you open up your arms for him to take. the smell of his rosewood cologne pronounces itself through the hug, which shortly turns into intertwined lips. "missed you." you mutter against his now gloss stained mouth, taking hold of his stubbled chin with long nails to deepen your kiss.
"i missed you too baby, got you this," he mumbles, handing you the flower before steadying his hands on both your sides, essentially baring you to his warm body, "how was your hair appointment?"
"thank you," you soften, casually dipping your nose into the welts of the rose to take in it's scent before continuing, "it was good, didn't take as long as i thought so i wanted to come say hi!" your eyes dilate to black expanses as you properly take him in. eren left early today, so you couldn't get a glimpse of him leaving the house. but seeing him now, with his hair pulled up into it's signature messy ponytail and the blue armani suit you told him buy—you could quite literally drool.
"it looks good." he takes a piece of your hair before leaving it alone. "and your dress looks real pretty on you."
grinning at his words, you shimmy out of his hold; intentionally ignoring the way his eyes follow the dips, curves and pudge highlighted by the sundress you wear. "so, i thought we could eat some food together."
for the first time since entering the room, his eyes shift from you over to the wicker basket on the nearby sofa.
you're sitting on his lap as he rests in his chair, putting some radish on the cucumber roll before feeding it to your husband, "hope i didn't pull you from anything..."
ah…
eren is a calculated man; he doesn't act irrationally. instead, he thinks—thinks for just a few seconds of possible outcomes depending on what he does. but with you? there's no need for that; you probably knew there was a high chance of him being in a meeting, if you weren't already told that by his assistant—so, as always, he chooses the answer that'll ultimately keep you happy.
"hm? nope, nothing important enough."
"oh, mkay." you nod, taking a mini donut from its cute package and popping it into your mouth. after dusting off your hands, you fiddle with the strands of hair that frame his face, “you coming home early today? we can watch that movie i was talking about—and i’ve been dying to get to properly use the theater with you.”
“let me think about it, princess—but i’ll try.” he sports a boyish smile, accepting the water bottle you hand him before watching you clean up the empty trays and takeout boxes. his words are most definitely for show, that man will be home by six instead of eight—hell, make it five.
perhaps eren jaeger truly has won at life; god…you look alluring, walking around his space with your heels like the place is your own, fragrancing the room with the scent of your lotion mixed with the perfume he gifted you. his wandering eye is fixed to your legs, catching how your dress rides up with every step taken.
“can feel you starin’ at me.” you tease in a sing-song voice, wiggling your hips as you bend down to pick up fallen trash.
“good.” his long legs aid him in striding towards your frame, large hands come to rest on your hips from behind. his thumbs begin to rub soft circles on them as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “did my employees see you in this?”
“duh—i had to see them to see you,” you laugh. 
you know damn well what this is about, and you find it amusing. for the most part, your husband is a calm man; slow to anger, leans towards calmly solving disputes as opposed to growing aggressive, and when he gets agitated, he takes a break. but at the mere mention of his wife, eren seems to abandon all sensical thoughts of zen he once had. 
“any of ‘em stare?” 
“dunno.” you respond with a shrug and turn to face eren, smoothing down the collars of his outfit with your hands, “i don’t pay attention to any of them. they’re not you.”
“okay.” he makes his way back to his seat, gesturing to you to follow along. “i really do mean it when i say you look nice in that dress—well, i always mean it but…”
you’re giggling, standing in between his spread legs while looking down at him, “thanks ‘ren.”
“mhm, i’m the luckiest man in the world.”
oh…he has that tone in his voice again; the rasped one that has your legs pressing together when he speaks. it’s the kind that happens when he gets a lustful glint in his eyes—when he wants to fuck you. his hands wander up the fabric of your dress, the feeling of his cold wedding band makes you gasp and steady your hands onto his shoulders for support.
“h-hold on.”
“something wrong?” he stills, “if it’s the cameras, i’ll get the footage removed—or maybe you want me to get a copy of it?”
“nothing’s wrong.” you shake your head, but make a mental note to ask him to indeed grab a copy before deleting it, “just want you to relax for a moment—i know i took you out of that meeting.” you speak as slowly and your fingers move down his arms, keeping his eye contact as you lower your knees to the ground. “‘m sorry love, i wanted to see you for a bit.”
why are you apologizing? there’s no need for you to, there’s never been a need for you to, and eren doesn’t think he would ever make you either. 
“let me make it up to you.” 
you don’t let him get much of a word out before you’re unzipping his slacks and palming the prominent bulge that greets your eyes. his body shows it’s gratitude by sinking into your ghostly touch. eren can only breath in sharp inhales as you free his dick from it’s confinement, straightening itself out as translucent pre stumbles from the tip. you shouldn’t be shy but eren is big in every sense. and your brain seems to struggle with object permanence; eyes almost blowing open in surprise of how thick he is despite you practically owning it. the phantom ache in your jaw seems to be a warning—you shouldn’t try anything.
but eren’s presence alone overrides all alarms and commands in your brain, and the hazy look he gives you from his seat has you subconsciously wrapping your hand around his base, shifting across the length and tracing the roads and ridges of his veins with your tongue. 
he sucks his teeth when you pucker your lips at the slightly pinkish tip, feathering a little kiss before letting spit fall from your mouth and onto his cock. the dribble doesn’t make it past the head before you’re meeting it with your lips, steadily taking him into your stretched walls. the feeling of the burn from your mouth molding in indecent ways would make you wince if not for the effects eren’s soft groans and breaths have on your cloudy mind.
“such a pretty sight. p-pretty fuckin’ view.” a sigh escapes him when you hollow your cheeks. admittedly, it’s nothing like the home he knows your cunt as, but when you bottom out and his tip punches the back of your throat, it seems like the closest thing. it surely is a sight to see: a sweet woman like you, doing something so damn nasty.
your throat tightens with each bob, trying its best to prevent a gag but failing every now and then. still, you plant a hand on his knee for stability to lessen the slight burn in your knees given by the nylon carpet beneath them, and allow the mixture of precum and saliva escape your mouth and dribble everywhere. 
“oh, fuck—yeah, you got it.” he’s amazed, seeing you take him like a fucking champion, choking all over him without a single complaint. “that’s my girl.”
despite going nice and slow, you get messy—his dick fucks up your sensory system. glittery tears breach your water line, threatening to drop and roll as you sniffle away. 
eren is pulled out of his trance when your mouth escapes him, watching you with a slight furrow in his brow. you gaze at him through your pretty lash extensions, tongue unfurling out for you to tap him on. “tastes so good eren.”
“shit—don’t say that to me.” his whimpers are loud, as loud as his heaves for the same air that seems to avoid him. conscious of the chance that sound could somehow transfer, he drapes his hand across the lower half of his face and captures the guttural groan from his chest.
“you don’t need to be quiet,” your hand grabs hold of his own, carefully guiding it from his mouth to the back of your head. silently, you watch him with admirable and expectant eyes that could make him cum from the sight alone, “don’t you own this place?”
my god… you want him to face fuck you, you’re outwardly asking him to do so without a drop of shame. right until your makeup is ruined and a crying mess from how full your mouth is. he doesn’t do it often—he’s too scared of watching you cough up spit and develop a sore throat the next day for it to happen regularly. besides, eren is a pleaser—very rarely did he have you like this unless you openly wanted it. but with the look of expectation you have, sniffling and pleading for him to help you like a dutiful husband he promised to be, it’s difficult to him to do anything other than comply.
eren wants to give you a standing ovation watching you submissively relax in his tender hold. with eyes full of love, he steadily lines you up with his tip, counting you to three before guiding you down the length of his cock. your husband starts off slow, keeping a nice pace that makes it easy to inhale enough to go back down. but like all things, it grows—grows faster. hands tangle in your hair, driving your head down to meet him halfway; you gag and choke and drool out the corners of your mouth, you dig and scratch with your nails, you savour quick inhales that are quickly consumed and leave you with even less air than before. 
the tip of your nose tickles the pubic hair at his pelvis as he holds your head steady at his base. the cut off of circulation has your eyes going spotty, but the lightheadedness just feels so so so good.
upon seeing the twitch in his brow and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, your breath hitches—he’s going to cum if you continue. whatever words you attempt to speak translates to vibration that makes his dick jump, so twice, you pat his arm. 
there’s a look of panic on his features, ignoring the mess left on his lower body and he releases you from his grasp. almost subconsciously, he pushes all traces of hair from your face, cupping you cheeks and forcing you to look at him, “did something happen? are you alright? was it too much—i’m sorry, love.”
“no.” you shake your head, moving from the position in front of him that made your knees ache and buckle. quietly, you turn your back to him, hazardly pressing your body into his desk while your hands tease up the back of your thighs, dragging the dress’s fabric along with it. “just want you to cum inside, it doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”
symphonies ring through his head: eren is sure he’s won at life—and he’s going to be selfish with it. you’re his freedom—your pussy is his national anthem, not the fucking two minute song that rings monotonely in his mind after hearing it. he can’t rip his eyes away when your dress climbs up and over your ass; it exposes your thong and it’s  practically swallowed by the folds of your pussy, which leaves a damp spot right near its entrance. 
“oh, eren…” you sigh in relief at the feeling of your hand fumbling to pull your panties to the side for your husband to see just how wet you get on the mere thought of him. your fingers are met with no friction as you slowly rub your clit, nails clacking against each other and you spread the slick that coats your cunt. 
you pull away from yourself with a string connecting your fingers to your pussy, all before giving it a few love taps once more. “‘s all yours.”
it’s all his…what a fucking lucky man. your scent has commanding control over him, clinging to his body and moving him towards you like a puppeteer and he’s the woodwork. hands rounding over the fat of your ass, he makes quick work of pulling your thong off one leg and letting it pool at your ankle. he’s not afraid to admit it: eren jaeger will die for this pussy—his wife’s pussy.
he makes quick work of you, slotting his dick within your folds, fucking himself up against your clit a few times before convening at your hole. he sheaths himself inch by inch, reveling in the soul snatching grip you welcome him with. the pulsation of your spongy walls almost bites at him—cause a stuttered moan to fall from him as he bottoms out into you.
“fuck!” you squeal at the feeling of his tip budding up against your cervix. frantically, you try to inch forward to build some space between you two. 
“nuh-uh, no fucking running,” he sucks his teeth, digging his dull nails in your hips to keep you flush against his body, “take it whole, didn’t i teach you better than that?”
“mm—mhm!” baring your eyes shut, you allow your upper body to relax into the glass surface of the desk while he finds his rhythm. but you’re at a loss for words, mouth hanging open as he drags out to the hilt and buries himself back in until he’s trying to bypass your ass. his repeated strokes strikes against the soft spot at the roof of your cunt, “you’re going so fast.”
“am i—shit—am i supposed to go slow?” he asks knowingly, to which you frantically shake your head no to. had he gone any second slower, you’d be throwing a damn fit, whining about his talking too much time in teasing you and throwing yourself back into his hips instead. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”
each thrust drags out more of the milky white slick that forms a nasty ring around the base of his cock. “r-ren, you’re kissin’ me…” you whine, wiggling and writhing as you feel him reach your cervix—‘n it hurts, hurts real good and eren knows you don’t want him to stop. 
your sobs fog up the glass below, and with tear stained eyes you turn your head to look back at your husband. his pace falters when he locks your gaze—it’s hazy and pretty, your once neat waterline is now smudged against your lower eyelids, and your plump lips are in a pout to suppress what would be breathy moans to quick whimpers—all which reach his dick just the same. 
eren wastes no time grabbing a hold of your leg and hoisting it up to meet your torso on the table. the new angle gives him leeway to hit deeper—rub against his favourite spot that has you seeing stars.
“fuck, yeah—p-please eren.” you’re babbling incoherently, eyes gluing shut to give yourself some peace of mind as you shift your hips backwards to meet him halfway, “give it to me, jus’ like that!” 
oh, shit. 
your eagerness messes up his pace, making him curse at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you and instead slipping up against your neglected clit.
“c’mon…put it back in.” you’re whining, rubbing your cunt all over him like the neediest thing he’s ever seen—but you’re so molded to eren; there is undoubtedly nothing else in the world that makes you feel better than the way he does.
“calm down, be patient.” his voice is smooth—firm. it pulls you down into a sense of docility; security. it almost makes you forget how you’re being defiled on the desk where he earns a living so you can wear the pearls on your neck. “you’re so good to me.” he’s mumbling, fucking himself through your folds. 
you can hear the sounds of your juices mixing, and eren giving a low groan before bottoming back into your sweet pussy that welcomes him back like a man once at war.
“baby…gonna—i’m gonna cum.” you shake your head at the inevitable—you’re already whimpering and your legs are buckling under the pressurizing buildup in your bottom torso. 
and eren? he would never deny you of anything you wanted—in fact, he loves when you cum; your body goes rigid and develops an ironclad grip on him, and your mouth hangs open in the most obscene, yet pretty, way. so he encourages you, coaxes you on by keeping steady, hitting harder. 
“f-fuckfuckfuck—fuck!” when your hand shoots down to rub and fuss and your clit, you’re done for. 
eren’s strokes don’t stop when you do. instead, he lets you ride out your high right on his dick—and you…your walls are fluttering around him. uncontrolled sobs leave your mouth as you grip onto the table for some sort of stability, “that’s it.” 
“you feel good?” he asks, moving your leg from the tabling and bringing you up to meet his body. 
your mind is so gone, you can only mirror the words of your husband, “mhm—feels good.” 
his hands grab your waist, pulling you down into the chair with him. there’s little time for you to process your surroundings before eren’s got your back flush against him, arms hooked around the back of your legs, bringing them back towards your chest. 
“you can take a little more for me, right?” he huffs, blindly navigating himself back into your hole before receiving extra aid from your fucked out self. 
truth be told, you’d take anything for eren—even when you’re crying from the sheer overstimulation you feel as he sloppily bounces you on his cock. you can only pray he cums quick, all before you truly start to get messy in his place of work. 
“give it to me ‘ren.” moaning sweetly, your hands make their way to the nape of his neck and tug at the hair found in your fist, “c’mon—give me what i came here for.” 
and eren…he doesn’t like to keep you waiting. 
“fuck—you’re just the most spoiled thing aren’t you?” he moans—truly, he knows there is no one to blame but himself. and when you give him pussy this good, what else can he do?
your heeled feet clack together as eren fucks up into you with little regard for decency. his breathing is erratic, either heavy or almost laboured and still. your name is stuck on his lips—rolling around on his tongue like candy—he says it like a chant, rambling on about how only you can get him like this. shallow groans and grunts as he stills in your cunt—making sure you feel every rope of him by keeping you right on him despite your squirms.
“feel full?”
you scoff playfully, moving from your position once eren lets you, only to see a coy grin settling on his face. he’s not expecting an answer—especially when you return his smile while tugging your dress back down your legs. his eyes follow your movements, watching as you gather the picnic basket, keys to your pink porsche, and lace thong within your hands before making your way back to him.
slotting the underwear into the pocket of his blazer jacket, you whisper, “you’d better be home early, mr. jaeger.”
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dixons-sunshine · 11 days
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Just A Bad Dream | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: Despite being together for over a year, Daryl had never once uttered those three important words to you. You had never let it bother you, choosing to move at the archers preferred pace. One night, after a particularly bad dream, was when those important words were uttered to you.
Genre: Angst to fluff.
Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.
Warnings: Nightmares.
Word count: 1k.
A/n: Working on transferring all of my projects from my old phone to this one, so I wrote this little snippet instead to have something to post. Hope y'all like it! This was inspired by a post I saw on my dash but I don't know who made the original post.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“No. Please, no! Dun' hurt her, please!”
Stirred from your slumber by your partner's distressed mumbling, you turned over in the bed. You slowly rubbed the sleep from your eyes, clearing the sleep induced fog from your mind before turning your head towards the sleeping archer beside you.
Your heart clenched in pain at the sight of distress evident on his face. His eyes were scrunched tightly and his eyebrows were furrowed into a deep frown. His breathing was erratic and there was sweat rolling down his temple.
While deciding whether or not to gently shake Daryl awake, Daryl bolted upright in bed. “No!”
“Daryl?” you spoke softly, sitting up slowly and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. However, it seemed as though he was still stuck in a daze, because he jerked away from your touch, whipping his head to stare at you with wide eyes.
“Daryl, baby, it's okay! It's just me. It's just me. You're okay. You're here with me,” you reassured him in a soft voice, slowly placing your hand on his shoulder again. When he didn't flinch away this time, you brought both of your hands up to cup his cheeks. “You're okay.”
Daryl slowly nodded, his breathing sounding choked off. Unwillingly, a tear slipped from his glossy eyes, and you gently wiped it away with your thumb. Acting on instinct, Daryl moved forward and wrapped his arms around you, dropping his head onto your shoulder. A sob wracked through his body, causing your heart to break into a million pieces for the man who you loved dearly.
You placed a small, tender kiss to his temple, slightly rocking your bodies from side to side. You simply held Daryl in your arms and allowed him to cry it out, acutely aware of the fact that he rarely, if ever, cried. His emotions bottled over and this one particular nightmare was his breaking point. Whatever the nightmare was about, it must've been terrible for the strong archer to break down.
“He killed ya,” Daryl finally told you in a broken whisper, his voice cracking towards the end. “He killed ya and I couldn't stop him.”
“Who?” you gently urged, rubbing your hand soothingly over his back, hoping to bring him some comfort.
Daryl shook his head, tightening his arms around you. “I dun'—I dun' know,” he whispered with a strain in his voice, sniffling slightly. “It was Negan at first, but then it was my father, and after a while I couldn't tell 'em apart anymore. One of 'em brought that fuckin' bat over yer head and I had to watch. I couldn't stop him. I can't lose ya, I can't—”
You pressed another kiss to his head, holding the back of his head gently as he buried his head deeper into your shoulder. His tears were staining your—technically his—shirt, but you didn't even notice. Your only focus at that moment was to try and calm the archer down. To reassure him that it was only a nightmare, that you were okay.
“Daryl, hey. Look at me,” you softly urged him, watching carefully as he slowly lifted his head and looked into your eyes. “I'm okay. I'm right here. It was only a nightmare. Your father's dead and Negan is locked up. He might as well be dead. Neither of them will ever get to me or anyone else ever again.”
Daryl nodded, his eyes casting downwards. “I know. S'jus'... M'scared,” he admitted, bringing one of his hands up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I can't lose ya. I jus' can't. I won't survive if somethin' happened to ya.”
“You won't lose me,” you reassured him, pulling him into your arms. Slowly and carefully, you lowered yourself down until you were laying back on the bed, Daryl now comfortably laying on your chest. “I promise you, nothing will happen to me. I won't go anywhere near Negan. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life, Dixon.”
Daryl chuckled softly, burying his head deeper into your chest. “I like the sound of tha',” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your chest. He sighed in content when he felt your fingers begin to thread through his hair, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling.
In no time at all, Daryl was yawning, eliciting a fond giggle from you. “Go to sleep, baby. I promise I'll be here when you wake up.”
Daryl nodded and allowed his body to relax, willing his mind to shut off. You were okay. He was okay. His father is dead and couldn't terrorize him anymore. Negan wasn't dead, but he was locked up and couldn't get out. Everything was starting to get better.
As he was being lulled into slumber, he let a confession fall from his lips, something he should've told you long ago:
“I love ya.”
You smiled softly down at him, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead. You had waited for a long time to hear those three important words from him. Deep down, you always knew Daryl loved you, but hearing it from the man himself finally confirmed it. Your heart swelled with love, and you couldn't believe how lucky you had gotten with this beautiful man.
“I love you more, Daryl Dixon.”
You didn't know whether he had heard you or not. Everything was silent after you had said that. The warm press of Daryl's body against yours and the reassuring rise and fall of his chest lulled you into sleep as well. However, right before darkness overtook you, you heard him mumbling one last thing.
“I love ya the most, sunshine.”
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galacticgraffiti · 8 months
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⋆☾⋆ Big Love Ahead ⋆☽⋆
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!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!
Summary: Halsin rescues you after you get hurt in a fight, and you get to spend some time with him during the spring and summer months as he nurses you back to health. And maybe, you start to wonder what it would be like if his hands touched you for different reasons than just to heal you…
Rating: Mature/Explicit (for horny nudity not smut) Wordcount: 4.5k Descriptors: The first two chapters are fairly genderneutral. Reader's physique is not really described aside from being quite a bit shorter and smaller than Halsin. CW: Fluff, softness, (physical) hurt/comfort, being nursed back to health by Halsin, pet names, this is achingly sweet, flirting, banter, oblivious pining, rated explicit for the eventual smut in chapters to come
✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦
⋆༻༺⋆༺༻⋆••●••⋆༺༻⋆༻༺ ⋆
Chapter 1: The Druid
He is the one who finds you.
Heavy footsteps make the earth vibrate beneath you, then soft fur presses against your bloodied cheek. You let it happen only because you can’t escape. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, if you are honest with yourself, and you are quite sure this is just a dream.
Surely, it must be a dream, right? To be lifted, not by paws but big, strong hands, to be carried out of that violent grove that nearly became your grave. To be placed upon the softest thing you have ever felt, and to see skin turn into fur once more as he lays beside you. Surely, a dream.
You close your eyes, and you drift off.
*****
When you wake up, you are disoriented beyond all hells, and alone.
Your entire body aches, but when you look down, you see that all your wounds have been mended and wrapped in neat bandages. Some of them smell of forest and herbs, others of things you have no words for describing.
Sitting up makes your head spin, so you decide to close your eyes again. Just… for a moment.
*****
It’s night when you wake up, though once you think about it, you are not sure how you know. Was it this dark the last time you woke up? You think there was some light - you saw the bandages, you could see the shape of your body beneath the sheets… But now, there is just darkness, so black it scares you, heavy like a blanket made from a thousand deaths.
Your heart starts to race, and you feel yourself breaking out in sweats as you think about your lost friends - all of them laying bloodied and broken on the battlefield like dolls, with slit throats and arrows in their hearts.
You groan in pain when you sit up, and the edges of your vision start to blur.
“Careful, now.”
The voice startles you. It comes from the opposite end of whatever room you are in, too far away for you to reach out and touch, and even with all your squinting, you can’t see anyone. Your fingers grip the sheets tightly.
“Who are you? Why did you bring me here?” Your voice is scratchy and raw, and your throat burns from the dryness. You cough, doubling over as you try to inhale some air to fill your desperate lungs.
“Shh, don’t die on me now, little flower.” 
The voice is much closer now, and out of habit, your hand slides down your thigh to where you usually keep your knife. It’s not there - of course it’s not, you are not wearing anything more than you’d need to guarantee the smallest amount of decency.
Panic rises in your chest, a sour taste coating your tongue.
“Who are you?” You repeat, out of breath from those few words.
“I saved you.” A flame is lit only a few feet away from you, and your eyes hurt from the sudden light. You squint, trying to get used to it. All you can see is the faint silhouette of a… man. A broad-backed man, taller than you have ever seen, with long hair and a gentle face. Pointed ears peek out from beneath soft curls, and you stare at him. 
An elf? With this… frame? Who the hells is this guy?
He looks at you calmly, patiently waiting for your reaction.
“Saved me?” The question makes you cough again. A hand appears in front of your face, offering you a waterskin. You accept it without much hesitation - what choice do you have? If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now.
The water hurts as much as it helps - cool and fresh as it runs down your dry throat. You take a few careful sips and damn near end up coughing your lungs out again. The hand takes the water away from you gently.
“That’s enough for now. Slow down, or you’ll make yourself sick.” His voice speaks more of concern than command. You let go, pressing back into your little corner.
“You didn’t answer my question,” you say finally. “Who are you?”
The man steps back into the shadows, his back turned to you. He is scarred and marked in ways only people from the wilds ever are, and that calms you a little. He is not a soldier.
“Rest for now,” he says. “We will talk when you wake again.”
You want to object, but large, warm hands press you down into your soft bedding again and pull the blanket up over your shoulders. Your eyes flutter closed - you are tired, so tired still. Distantly, you wonder how much time has passed since the grove.
“Wait,” you whisper, your hand finding his larger one in the dark. Your fingers curl weakly.
“What is it? Something you need?” Once again, his only feeling seems to be concern.
You slowly shake your head and regret the motion immediately when you taste blood on your tongue.
“No, I don’t- just… thank you.”
He stills in your weak grasp. Moments pass, then finally, his voice comes again, sounding oddly sad.
“You are welcome, little one.”
*****
You find a rhythm after that, sleeping and waking. Sometimes he’s around, sometimes he is not. You realise that the supposed room you are in is little more than a cave decked out in some essentials.
After a few days, you finally learn his name: Halsin.
Halsin looks after you, and you don’t question why. He does not talk much, but the look on his face never makes you doubt that the only thing he wants is for you to get better.
You drink more water, and after a few days, Halsin finally allows you to eat: Stew, not much, fed to you by his large hand holding a spoon that seems much too small for him.
When the food stays down, Halsin allows you to eat more and more, and you get some of your strength back. Your body still hurts, but all your bones seem to be in the right place - though some are definitely still broken, as you discover when you try to lay on your side.
Some days after you first remember waking up, you manage to sit up all by yourself and your fingers can hold the spoon for the first time. Halsin watches you carefully, whittling away as you eat a bowl of stew. And another. And another.
“Someone was hungry,” he smiles.
“Hungry as a bear,” you grin. He furrows his brow. You swear his eyes seem golden, but it’s probably just the light of the fire. He stares into the darkness for a moment, then puts his knife to the side. Before you can ask him what is wrong, he is gone.
****
Halsin returns the next day, back to his usual self. You wouldn’t quite call it ‘chipper’, but none of the worry that graced his features yesterday seems to remain. You decide it is wisest not to ask about it. If there is something you need to talk about, he will tell you in time.
When Halsin tucks you into bed that night as has become his habit, you notice - not for the first time - how good he smells: Of fresh grass and summer rain, of wood and smoked leather. You become acutely aware that you yourself have not had a bath in quite some time.
“Halsin?” You bite your tongue, feeling awkward about asking.
“What is it?”
“Do you… well. I think I should take a bath.”
Halsin cocks his head. You can see the cogs in his head turning, behind his soft, round features. He crosses his arms, and your heart flutters at the sheer swell of his biceps. You shake your head to shoo the unwelcome thought away.
“Well. there is a stream close to the cave…” he says slowly.
You nod excitedly.
“Perfect! I can-”
“You are still very injured, little flower,” he interrupts you - not rudely, but firmly. “You can barely stand up, let alone walk all the way there. The stream is dangerous, and I do not want you injuring yourself-”
“Carry me, then,” you propose hastily, more in jest than anything else. A small smile tugs on the corners of Halsin’s eyes.
“You can’t stand on your own either, and only one of your arms has healed enough for you to wash yourself.” He quirks a brow. “Have you got a solution for that too, little one?”
“You can wash me,” you suggest, this time fully certain he will recognise the joke.
Halsin chuckles to himself and shakes his head.
“All that effort- for what? Your wounds are clean, and you are getting better every day. Have I not taken care of you? Is there something I missed? If you tell me-”
“You smell good,” you say before you can think about your words. Halsin’s eyes widen by the smallest fraction, but he stays quiet, so you drone on. “You smell like forest and fresh pine, and meanwhile, I have been wasting away in this cave for weeks now. I want to… I don’t know. I want to feel like less of a burden, I suppose. I want to feel like myself again.”
“Oh.” Halsin takes your hand, very gently, like a doctor calming his patient. It still makes your heart race. “You are not a burden. Taking care of you has been my privilege.”
“You’re sweet,” you whisper. Halsin lets go of you.
“Do you… do you think a bath would help you feel better?” he asks, his voice serious. “I know I don’t provide much entertainment-”
“I like it when you are around,” you admit quietly. “I like watching you whittle. Your presence calms me.”
At that, Halsin lets out a roaring laugh that takes you totally by surprise - so much so that you simply fall into laughing with him. You cannot grasp what he could be laughing about, but seeing him so happy - knowing you are the one who made him laugh - it makes your heart stumble.
“Fine,” Halsin says when he can breathe again. “Alright, little one, if a bath is what you want, a bath is what you shall get.”
*****
When he returns the next day, for the first time, you notice that you have no idea where he sleeps. He laughs the questions off as he looks over your various wounds and ailments.
These inspections have become a ritual that both excites and frightens you: It excites you because it means Halsin’s big hands on your body, stroking, nearly caressing, touching (almost) every inch of you. It frightens you because you are scared he will notice how much you like it. And it scares you to think that one day, there might not be anything for him to look at - and when your wounds are healed, where will you go?
 You scoot to the front of your makeshift bed when Halsin asks you to, dangling your feet over the edge. When he kneels between your thighs to examine a particularly deep cut in your upper thigh, it takes all your strength not to cup his jaw and ask him to kiss you.
You daydream yourself away - dream of the way his hands look on you, of the way the light bounces off his irises and makes it seem like they are glowing. You dream of his lips and how soft they might be against yours, and you try to remember that feeling when he first found you - the softness of fur - might it have been his hair?
“Alright,” Halsin declares, interrupting your yearning thoughts. 
“Alright?” you ask, looking down at him. He stands, suddenly towering over you. You swallow thickly.
“I think… it’s time for my little patient to have a bath.” He smiles and offers you his hand. You feel like you have been punched in the stomach when he calls you his patient. Is that all you are to him? Just some… girl he needs to heal? Someone he found and took responsibility for? Still, you take his hand and slide off the bed.
Your legs give in nearly the second they touch the ground, but Halsin’s strong arms are there to catch you. He lifts you like you weigh no more than a feather. His arms feel familiar, and comfortable, and like you could fall asleep in them forever and ever. You sigh happily and snuggle against his broad chest.
When you realise what you are doing, your eyes snap open, terrified of your own actions.
“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Halsin’s chest shakes against you.
“No need to apologise. I am happy you feel comfortable in my presence.”
“Mhhm.” You try to hide your face as best you can, lest he recognise the emotions that must be showing.
Halsin carries you carefully, stopping as you get closer to the light near the entrance of the cave.
“Close your eyes, little one. You haven’t been outside in quite a while, and the sun is bright today.”
You follow his instructions, pressing your eyes shut. The air smells fresh and sweet when he steps out of the cave, and the rays of sun that dance on your face warm you from the inside out. You blink carefully, lids still half closed as you take in your surroundings: The formation of rocks that makes up your cave, the meadow below you, the quiet gurgle of a stream behind a grove of trees.
“Oh.” The noise is barely more than a breath that escapes you, but when you look up at Halsin, a bright smile illuminates his features.
“Beautiful, is it not?”
“Yes!” you nod your head enthusiastically, too distracted by the beauty around you to notice the way Halsin’s eyes linger on your face.
“I am glad you think so.” His arms tighten around you for a moment as he adjusts his stance. “Are you feeling alright? The place I had in mind is not far.”
“I am wonderful,” you assure him, closing your eyes as you bask in the sun. You never noticed how much you missed all of this until now. Halsin’s company is the best you could imagine, but the cave gets lonely from time to time. You like being outside, hearing the birds sing again, watching the clouds that sail through the sky above.
“Right then,” Halsin nods. “Onwards we go.”
It really is not a long walk - it barely takes a minute. The quiet corner of the river is tucked between two bends, next to a big weeping willow. It’s warm outside, much warmer than you expected, and you dare to hope the water might not be ice cold.
Halsin stops right next to a small pool of water, set apart from the rest of the river by a few stones, carefully placed - much too neat to be a natural occurrence.
“I made a bath for you,” he says, sounding quite pleased with himself. “I knew you could never withstand the current, not in the shape you are in, and…”
You look up at him, awed by his care and affection.
“Thank you,” you whisper. Halsin smiles quietly.
“Whatever I can do to help, it’s my pleasure.” He points at the pool with his chin. “Do you think this will suffice?”
“Oh, it will more than suffice,” you nod, practically vibrating with excitement. Finally, after all this time, a bath. Feeling clean again. 
Halsin seems to consider something, his brow furrowed with concern.
“I did not think about… where to put you down.”
You look at him in confusion and he shrugs, your weight not even slowing his shoulders in the movement. Your heart leaps.
“I mean,” Halsin explains, averting his eyes from yours tactfully, “that you will have to undress before you get in. Now, as you may have noticed, I enjoy nature in all of her forms, but I know not everyone is so… inclined.”
You swear you see a blush creep into his cheeks. His eyes flashing golden in the sunlight. Your heart flutters when you finally understand what he is trying to tell you.
“Oh!” you exclaim then, wiggling in his arms. This could not go better if you had planned it. You didn’t even think of this when you asked for a bath, but oh dear, did fate give you a good hand today. “I don’t mind if you stay, Halsin.”
“I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He sounds almost like he is trying to convince himself. “I made that pool of water quite deep so you could sit in it, though it is shallow enough the sun should have warmed it up a bit…”
“I would jump into the ice seas if only it meant a chance for a bath,” you chuckle. You tug at Halsin’s arm. “Put me down, please.”
He sets you down on the ground so gently as if you could break. You find your footing after a moment, holding on to his big arm until your head stops spinning, waving him off when he bends down to look at you with concerned eyes.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Promise.”
Halsin stares at you, but he doesn’t drag you back to the cave, so you take that as a sign of faith. You take a deep breath and start peeling out of the few layers of fabric you have on you. Reaching for your bandages, you hesitate.
“Should I leave those on?” you ask. Halsin’s eyes snap up to yours, and you nearly giggle at the look on his face. He has the expression of a bear caught with his paw in the honeypot.
“Oh… no,” he answers finally. “You can take those off, I’ll put fresh ones on after your bath.”
“Mhhm. You take such good care of me.”
You start peeling the bandages from your maltreated body, dedicating all your energy to staying upright. Halsin’s eyes never leave you, roaming up and down your naked body, but you are far too focused on the task at hand to notice.
This is the longest you have been on your legs in weeks, and your thighs are already starting to burn. Quickly, you finish unwrapping yourself. Before you can figure out a plan of how to best get into the water, strong hands slip beneath your arms and lift you up.
You squeal with joy as Halsin slowly lowers you down into the water.
It’s warmer than you expect, yet still cold as all hells. Goosebumps rise on your body and you shiver. Halsin stops moving, you, halfway submerged, hanging limp in his arms.
“Are you alright?”
Your teeth are not exactly chattering, but it takes some effort to keep it that way.
“‘M fine,” you say. “It’s just… a b-bit cold. But I’m okay. You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d take the ice seas earlier.”
Laughter rumbles from Halsin’s chest like thunder. It makes you smile. He laughs so much more now than he used to.
“Fine. I’ll- just give me a moment.”
You are gently placed down in the pool, cold water up to your neck. Halsin makes a dissatisfied sound.
“Seems I overestimated your size, little flower.”
“Not hard to do when you’re this big,” you mumble, turning around to look up at him, gesturing at his silhouette that stands out against the sun- and stop. 
Your jaw nearly hangs open when you are faced with a nearly naked Halsin. You blink and shake your head, ready to believe that the cold may be causing hallucinations. Maybe you never woke up from your sickbed - maybe this is a dream. Maybe you died on the battlefield and this is Celestia.
Halsin sheds the last layers of clothing covering himself, and it’s all you can do not to say fuck me quite loudly. You bite your lip, but before you can even process the situation, Halsin has slipped into the self-made pool with you.
The water seems to heat up the second he is in there with you, his body so close to yours you could barely fit a leaf between the two of you. His eyes are bright gold in the sunshine, and he takes a deep breath, his chest expanding.
You stare and stare and hope you are not being all too obvious about it. Carefully, you take a step back only to slip on the muddy ground.
Halsin catches you easily, your body pressed against his, and you think that the water might start to boil any second now.
“Thanks,” you murmur, straightening up. His hand lets go of you as he takes a step back himself - the furthest he can go, even though there is stll barely space between you.
“Are you warm enough now?” he rumbles, sounding amused. There is a note of something else in his voice - a strain; not impatience, but something close to it. You press your hands to your sides awkwardly.
“Yeah… yeah, this is better. Thank-”
“No need to thank me.” Halsin interrupts you, abruptly turning around, away from you. The water that is up to your neck barely reaches halfway up his back. “I shall stay here so you don’t get sick on top of all your other injuries. Take all the time you need.”
You wish the water wasn’t so clear that you can see every detail of his backside. You wish his hair was not so soft, shining in the sun. You wish you could not see the muscles of his back ripple when he shifts, and that his shoulders would not look so perfectly round and juicy it makes your mouth water. You wish it was not so hard to avert your eyes.
A golden glitter in the water catches your eye. It travels up Halsin’s calf, his thigh. He shakes his head like he is swatting away flies, and the spark in the water fades.
What the hells was that?
You frown; but the water is winning you over. Your legs already hurt from standing, though the water makes the weight more bearable, and as much as you wish to stay here forever, tucked closely into your little corner of the world, feeling Halsin’s body next to yours, you have to admit you are feeling a little tired.
So, you get to work, scrubbing yourself down, dunking your head into the water and trying to extrapolate the filth from your hair. You are fairly certain Halsin must have at least wiped you down with a washcloth after rescuing you, since your body is not still covered entirely in guts and blood and dirt, but you have not had a proper bath in so long.
You sigh quietly as you wash your hair, your shoulders, your thighs, scrubbing and scrubbing until you feel raw in the best way. One of your arms hangs uselessly by your side, the bone on the mend but not healed, and soon, your other arm burns with exhaustion.
Halsin has not turned around to face you, though from his relaxed stance you are guessing he is probably basking in the sun with his eyes closed. You try and push through the pain and exhaustion, but eventually, you have to admit defeat.
“Halsin?” You tap his shoulder blade. A flash of light appears in the water, gone as soon as it came. His neck turns slightly.
“Yes?”
“Can you… help me?” you ask shyly. Finally, he turns around, his expression soft and controlled.
“What do you need help with, my angel?”
You shiver at the gravel in his voice, at the way he looks at you - with eyes burning, though you don’t dare to hope it may be desire. Maybe he is just getting impatient.
“I can’t reach,” you explain and point to your back. “Not with this arm, and-”
Large hands roam across your body, careful to avoid all the sore spots and healing wounds.
“Of course,” he grumbles. “Turn around.”
You blink up at him, then carefully spin around - you have learned your lesson from last time - holding onto the edge of the pool.
Halsin’s fingers are rough, but not in an uncomfortable way. His palms are soft when he slowly rubs small circles into your back, washing away dirt and grime, showering you in his attention and his care. You catch the golden sparkle in the water again, but when you twist to see, it is already gone again. It must be the sun.
You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the feeling of Halsin so close to you.
Something tightens in your belly at the way he touches you - the gentleness his large hands are capable of more than you can handle. The way his hands could so easily wrap around your waist makes your heart stumble.
Halsin’s hands glide up your back easily, up to your hairline, roaming across your shoulder blades, and back down, stopping just shy of the small of your back. A quiet moan escapes from your throat at the touch, and you stiffen. Halsin carries on as if nothing has happened.
Fine. If he can ignore it, then so can you.
You are fairly certain that you are clean at this point, but Halsin is not stopping on his own, and who would you be to tell him to stop? You close your eyes and relax into his touch, into the soft pads of his fingers that dig into your shoulders in just the right way, the warmth of his body that you can feel even through the water.
“Good,” he mumbles eventually, his hands vanishing from your back.. “I know you must be tired. Are you satisfied?”
With you? Never, you want to say. What comes out instead is a vague,
“Mmhhm.”
Halsin chuckles quietly.
“Oh, you are exhausted, my love. Come on, I will take you to bed.”
Your eyes are falling shut when he heaves himself out of the water, and you can’t even open your mouth to make a silly joke about being taken to bed by him. You could slap yourself for not being able to keep your eyes open - oh, to see him one more time, to take him in in all his glory in the fading light of the day. 
Halsin lifts you out of the water easily. A shiver runs through him that makes you crack your eyes open. His irises glow golden in the sinking sun, and you smile at the sight. He smiles back at you, wrapping you in cloth, and carries you back to your cave, and back to your bed.
You are half-asleep when your head hits the pillow, so you can’t even blame yourself when your voice asks sleepily:
“Will you stay here with me tonight?”
Halsin gently pulls his hand from your grasp.
“Not tonight, my angel,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek so softly you wonder if you imagined it. “But I’ll be right outside should you need me.”
⋆༻༺⋆༺༻⋆••●••⋆༺༻⋆༻༺ ⋆
» Next Chapter
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Hello my darlings! I have been consumed whole by BG3 and the big bear man, so I hope you enjoy! (Lmk if you want to not be tagged in this little series, I'm just going to tag my usuals)
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linopls · 7 months
Text
kinktober day twelve
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somnophilia jisung x gn!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (male receiving), somno (obvi) 1.0k words
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jisung came home late quite often. it was just something you got used to after a while. when he suggested moving in together, you were thrilled but you shortly learned that there wasn’t really a difference in the time you got to spend with him. 
he’s a great boyfriend, you could never complain. he always tried to make extra time for you, would text you throughout the whole day, and when you did have time together he made it last forever. you just wish he didn’t come home so late everyday, some time to talk about your days before falling asleep was all you wanted. 
you loved when his group took breaks, that meant every day when you came home from work he would be there to talk about your day. you would get the amazing feeling of falling asleep in his arms. 
this one particular friday night, the tables were turned. you had got of work late, preparing for a week of meetings caused you to lose track of time and not leave the office until the sun came down. this time when you arrived home, it was jisung who had fallen asleep waiting for you to arrive home. 
as you were removing your shoes by the front door, you heard soft moans coming from your shared bedroom. it wasn’t unusual, with both of your busy schedules it was hard to schedule times to have sex. this meant the two of you would indulge in some explicit alone time. usually to keep the other involved, texts, pictures, and videos were sent to the other party. 
you checked your phone for any missed texts or calls and you saw nothing. it was a little weird of jisung to forget to text you about it. you probably got a text every other day from the boy stating, thinking of you with my cock in my hand. how romantic?
you walked over to your shared room and saw jisung’s large shoulders peeking over the duvet and him facing the opposing wall. you removed your blazer, shirt, and pants before crawling onto the bed and placing a hand on your boyfriend. 
he didn’t budge.
you climb out of the bed and to his side of the room, to your surprise he’s out like a light. it was very easy to tell when jisung was sleeping. he had a habit of opening his mouth just a tad, some mornings you would walk up to a puddle of drool on your chest. some found it gross, you found it endearing. 
you hear another soft moan come from the sleeping boy and he readjusts his body. the way he moves causes the blanket to slip and reveals his almost naked body. he’s wearing only a pair of boxers, which are sporting a very obvious tent. 
“oh,” you whisper. in that moment, you realize why you hadn’t got a text from the boy, because he’s fast asleep. 
you two have had a very experimental sex life, both down to try anything for each other. jisung had once woken you up by pleasuring you before, months ago, and you never returned the favor. 
you kneel down in front of his painfully obvious erection and ever so gently and slowly, you pull down the boxers to free his issue from its confines. you waste no time teasing him, there’s no point as he’s now leaking onto the bed sheets. 
you lick one long stripe on the bottom, to you but the side for him, and wrap your lips around the tip. you run your tongue over the dripping slit and jisung’s unconscious body forms goosebumps on his soft skin. you hear one of his soft moans again as you release the tip from your mouth with a soft pop. 
you use one hand to wrap around the base of his cock and the other to fondle at his aching balls. your sleeping lover releases a whimper at the feeling and the sound could make your head spin. you slowly take jisung all the way your mouth allows and suck in your cheeks. 
“y/n,” jisung moans quietly. 
you pull back to see if you’ve woken him and find him still snoozing away. the idea of him dreaming about you in the way he is sends a wave of arousal through your body. knowing that he’s been dreaming about you this whole time makes you dizzy.
you wrap your lips around his head again and take him fully in your mouth again. his tip hits the back of your throat and jisung moans louder this time, you look up to his face and see his eyes starting to peek open. you quicken your efforts, spit falling from your mouth onto the bed below and tears starting to form in your eyes.
you feel jisung’s hand lazily grab onto your head as he groans. 
“fuck, y/n.”
you look to your side and see that jisung’s eyes are wide open, displaying awe, confusion, amazement, and lust all in one. you flutter your eyelashes and he smiles.
“i was dreaming about you,” he purrs, interlocking his fingers in your hair.
“mhm,” you respond, lips still wrapped around his cock.
you lick your tongue around his head, running the muscle over the slit. jisung whimpers and tightens his grip on your hair.
“y/n, i’m gonna cum,” jisung groans, thrusting his hips up slowly into your mouth.
you fully engulf his cock into your mouth again, forcing yourself to take in fully. when your nose touches his skin, you fill him twitch in your mouth and he pulls your mouth of him. jisung takes his own cock in his fist, jerking it until he paints his release all over your face. he takes one of his fingers and gathers some of his cum and holds his finger to your mouth. you eagerly take his finger in your mouth, licking the digit clean. 
jisung pulls his finger from your mouth and rolls over onto his back. “come up here and sit on my face please,” he says, motioning with his saliva-covered finger.
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i apologize for this being late!
@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli 
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messylustt · 10 months
Note
requesting for part two of the Yandere dead wife Miguel fic please 🙏
COPIED DESIRE / A LITTLE DIZZY ( nsfw ) — miguel o’hara + reader: you wake up somewhere new, with someone who looks exactly like your husband.
marks yandere. full on manipulation here goddamn. possessive!miguel. like I’m not kidding he’s actually terrible for this (but of course still all soft and sweet to you). wc 1.5k.
pt one. pt two.
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it was dark. at first at least, because your mind felt dizzy, as you moved to sit up. at first you thought maybe something was covering your eyes. but no, the room was just…dark.
you could feel the bed underneath you, as your feet hit the cold floor. the room looked rather bland, but as you continued to gaze around, brows furrowed at your swaying mind, you stop on a picture frame.
it had been purposefully placed down, which most likely meant that you probably shouldn’t put it back up. but your curiosity and want to realise your situation better, made your hand lift to view the picture. your breathing hitches when you see you.
or well…maybe not you. but a version. a version of you smiling, oblivious to the photo in general.
“she’s pretty isn’t she?” a voice makes you quickly place the photo back down as you spin to face whoever it was. you sway a fraction, reaching to grab out for the bed’s end post, but a hand is quickly holding you steady.
“you’ll be a bit dizzy still.” he softly comments, and then you recognise the voice. miguel. but not your miguel. you rush back, chest heaving. “you…you…kidnapped me?” your comment is more so a question at this point, as miguel shakes his head, reaching for you again.
but you stumble back, hand out, as you stare with full fledged anger. “don’t you dare come closer…i—“you take a breath, because it’s true you did still feel dizzy. you shake your head continuously. “you’re not…please tell me I’m dreaming.” you meet his gaze, and see utter adoration, but clear worry at your frantic actions.
“i thought so too at first.” miguel smiles. actually smiles. and you can’t fathom how he can at the current situation.
“but it’s not…”
miguel shakes his head, confirming so. “no. you’re here…” then he further mutters to himself. “…you’re really here…”
“no.” you say pointedly. “take me back.”
“look i know that you probably feel…scared right now—“
“scared?” you hiss out. “of course i feel scared. you pretended to be…oh god…i kissed you.” you mutter, replying yesterdays actions. was it yesterday? you weren’t sure. because time seemed to be irrelevant as of now.
“and it was better than I remembered.” miguel is slowly edging closer to you.
you shake your head, jaw clenching. “no. no, i’m not…i’m not your wife. please tell me you know that.”
“i know.” miguel clenched his jaw. “my wife is dead.”
you stop, meeting his gaze. there’s a flash of something cold before he catches your gaze, softening instantly, as his lips twitch up. “but you aren’t…and i’m not gonna let you die…” he edged closer again. “‘m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
you keep your hand out, but your expression has softened a fraction. he still grieved. and now his desperation kinda made sense to you. but that still gives him no right to just…take you. “i’m…sorry. i am, but i have my own life. a different life. with…miguel…my miguel.”
miguel’s jaw tightens at this, as he steps much much closer. you hadn’t realised that you were backing up until you felt the cold wall at your back. now Miguel had you trapped as his gaze wandered your face with an intimacy that had your breath hitching.
“i’m barely any different from your miguel.” he says, brushing your face and neck, making you shiver.
“he wouldn’t just kidnap someone.” you mutter, making miguel’s darting eyes meet your own. his caresses moved to grab your chin, keeping your head how he wanted.
“i hate to break it to you. but if any of my variants are like me, then anything close to determination, or desperation will lead us to do something like this.” his mouth had moved to drag his lips up the skin of your neck, just breathing you in. “if anything is of high importance to us, we make sure we get it.” he places a kiss to your collarbone.
your entire body is tense, as you try to draw away from his eager lips. but he’s persistent, keeping you still, as he begins to suck on your neck, mumbling spanish words into your skin.
“and you…are probably the upmost important thing to us.” his other hand has slipped around your waist, as his hand by your chin slips to the back of your neck.
“you’re wrong.” you manage, as he litters kisses up your neck and jaw.
“am i?” miguel hums, kitten licking your skin.
“i’m…i’m not important to you. only to one of you…or i’d like to think so.” you say quickly, trying not to let his kisses effect you.
miguel shakes his head against your skin, his head now resting in the crook of your neck as he just keeps you close. “but you are, you…mine...” he mutters your name.
“no—“
“yes.” he interrupts, pulling your waist closer to him. “all mine.” he mutters, his open mouth now over the side of your neck.
“i’m not…please, i’m…” you try, but his weight is crushing. “i’m really sorry about your wife, but…i’m not her, i can’t be her.”
“yes you can. you’re exactly like her.” miguel says, lifting his head, to kiss your lips. your ‘no’ comes out muffled as you manage to slightly draw him away.
“miguel.” you say pointedly. and he finally stops, breathing hard as he stares, seeming to make sure all your details sink into his brain.
“i can’t let you go again.”
“miguel.” you say again. “you never had me.”
his grip around your waist tightened. “i don’t care that you’re from another universe. you’re my wife. my wife now. you can’t really think i’d just give that up so easily can you?”
you shake your head. “i’m already married.”
“to a version of me.” he says, his clawed finger going back to tracing your skin.
“no. you’re a version of him, to me.” you say, truthfully. “you’re the variant who has no right. He’s my husband.”
his jaw clenched, his soft tracing now a tight grip on your cheeks to stop you talking. “don’t say that.”
you still manage to speak. “it’s the truth. even you can’t deny that.”
he breathes, his tongue running down his fang. “fine. you were his wife.” his hand had begun to stroke any part of you, keeping you close and against him. “but where is he? it’s been two days.”
your eyes widen. two days?!
miguel smirks at your shocked expression. “if he really was your husband, and cares about you. he would have found you already. i would have found you.” miguel’s manipulative words are whispered so enticingly.
you shake your head. “no he’s…where even am I?”
miguel didn’t want to say his universe. because then you’d make up some excuse about how your husband physically couldn’t get here. so Miguel instead says. “somewhere quiet. not far from your house actually. he’s just so oblivious.” miguel hides his smirk in your neck, going back to kissing and licking.
“no…” you weren’t going to believe that. He’s looking for you. your miguel is looking for you.
miguels hand slipped under your shirt, just to stroke your waist, hips and stomach. “maybe he’s just…busy. he has such a hard job doesn’t he?”
he’s looking for you—you keep repeating to yourself. he’s looking, he’s looking. but miguels poisonous words have snuck their way into your mind.
“i actually saw your husband, before I went to your house…” lies lies lies. “he was with…someone.”
your jaw clenched. because your mind instantly went to the woman he works with. no. you weren’t gonna be jealous. she was only his co-worker. a friend.
“they were standing rather…close.” miguel’s lips have left marks all over your neck, as he keeps stroking your skin, doing a lot more damage to your mind. a target of his that he can feel is slowly working. because you aren’t as tense anymore, and maybe you’re just thinking. but that would mean miguel’s plan is on its way.
he lifted his head, his face falling again, as he looks concerned, brushing your cheek with his fingers. “she seemed rather…eagerly engaging with him. of course i’m sure it’s nothing though. i’m sure he’s looking for you.”
miguel watches the switch in your expression. my, my you were so easy to manipulate. he held down his grin still displaying a form of sadness and pity.
“i’m sure he didn’t agree to that dinner.”
“what?” you stare at him, and for the first time today you completely and utterly stare at miguel. and he feels ecstatic.
“you didn’t know?” miguel tilts his head in fake surprise. “i thought he would have told you, since you’re well…his wife.”
he’s lying—you think to yourself. all his words are lies. but you can’t help but feel doubt prickle under your skin. because yes, your miguel has been rather busy lately, making small excuses. it’s fine right. he’s looking for you…right?
“ay, mi cariño…you didn’t know? i’m so sorry.” miguel gently kissed your cheek. carefully reading your now relaxed posture, as he moves his lips to capture yours.
and that’s when he knew he had you. his doubtful thoughts were planted now. and as he moved his hand to support the back of your neck, he knew for sure—kissing you harder—that he had you completely under his control.
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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beskarandblasters · 2 months
Text
Soft Matter
Abby Anderson x F!Reader
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Ways to help Palestine
Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist
Summary: Abby wakes you up in the best way possible.
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, established relationship, somnophilia, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, squirting, pet names (pretty girl, baby), no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
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The morning sunlight peeks in through the open window. The curtains pillow in the gentle breeze but other than that everything is quiet and still. Abby rolls over on her side, propping her head up with her hand, admiring how peaceful you look. Your chest rises and falls like clockwork, lashes fanned out against your face as you sleep. The sunlight hits the high points of your face. It’s a sight pretty enough for a picture; little moments like this together after a night of tangled up sheets and intertwined limbs. A night that ended with you pressed up against her side, resting your head on her chest as she drew little circles on your skin with her fingers. 
It doesn’t take long for those thoughts to settle in, though. Her hand runs along your outline, fingers stopping at the edge of your panties and fiddling with the lacy fabric. She knows what she wants and she’ll get it, even when you’re asleep. Not that you mind. She’s done this countless times before and this morning is no different. 
She inches down on the bed, getting under the blanket, moving ever so carefully to be sure not to wake you up just yet. She spreads your legs apart, pushing your panties to the side as she runs her fingers along your entrance. You’re already wet, presumably from the dream you’re having. Because all of a sudden she stops in her tracks, listening carefully to the soft sounds you make. You’re moaning, the sweet sound so melodic to her ears. She’s caught between wanting to observe you for a while and see what other kinds of sounds you might make in your sleep, but she also wants to feel you coming around her fingers already. 
She places two fingers in her mouth, getting them nice and slick for you before gently inserting her pointer finger inside you. She sighs at the familiar feeling as your warmth envelops her finger. 
Warm. Soft. Wet. Heavenly. 
She curls her finger, gently playing with you as your moans pick up. You stir in your sleep, not awake just yet but the sleepiness is slipping away. She slides her middle finger in, feeling as your walls expand to accommodate the newfound thickness. 
And with that, you finally awaken with a sharp inhale followed by a gasp. 
“Abby!” you breathe out, voice already high pitched from the pleasure built up. You move the blanket to expose her situated between your thighs, fingers buried in your pussy. 
“Thanks. I was getting kinda hot under there,” she chuckles. 
“How long have you been doing that?” 
“Not that long. You were moaning in your sleep and I wanted to see how long you would do that for. But then I got impatient.”
“…I was moaning?”
“Mhm. You were, pretty girl.”
“Oh…”
“You wanna tell me what you were dreaming about, baby?”
“Uhh… it’s not too far off from this,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 
“I bet,” she chuckles. Her face breaks out into a smile and the sunlight hits her face perfectly, lighting up her eyes and the freckles on her face. Her nose is scrunched as she smiles at you, watching the way you pant and whine for more. 
She pulls her fingers from you much to your chagrin. But it’s just to pull your panties off, tossing them on the floor. She returns her fingers inside you but this time she puts her mouth on your clit, tongue flicking around it as her other arm wraps around your thigh. She tries to keep you still but it feels too good. Your back arches off the bed and you writhe under her grasp. 
Your orgasm is nearing and Abby feels it. Your walls tense up in anticipation of a release and your bedroom is filled with the wet, squelching sounds as her fingers pump in and out of you. 
“Abby, I’m gonna cum,” you whine. But she doesn’t dare pull her mouth off your clit, not when you’re so close. Instead, she hums against you, sending you over the edge. One of your hands grips the sheets for purchase and the other reaches between your legs, tangling your fingers in Abby’s messy braid. She moans into you, a visceral one at that. It makes her keep going, fingers still curling against your g-spot. You wonder what she’s going for. Maybe overstimulation?
Or maybe she’s trying to get you to squirt. 
“Abby?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows. 
“Hm?” she says, tearing her face away from your cunt to look up at you. The lower half of her face is already glistening. 
“Are you… Are you trying to get me to squirt?” you ask between shaky breaths as your orgasm ebbs and flows. 
“I’ll change the sheets,” she says quickly, looking at you with pleading eyes. 
“Go for it,” you say with a smirk, half sighing as you settle into the bed again. 
“As long as you keep making those sounds for me, pretty girl,” she says before her mouth is immediately on your clit again, fingers working overtime as she builds you up again. Her eyes don’t leave you, watching the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, the way your mouth forms into a soft O, and the way your nipples perk up against your thin sleep t-shirt. You return your hand to her hair, gripping at the loose braid as you whimper and shiver. 
She hums into you again, marveling at your taste and the sheer amount of wetness you’ve already produced. With one last come here motion of her fingers and flick of her tongue around her clit, you cum, harder and wetter than the last one. She succeeds in making you squirt because you feel wetness run down your thighs and pool beneath you. Stars dance in your vision, looking down as Abby laps up the wetness you just produced. 
She pulls her fingers from you and hooks both arms around your thighs, keeping you flush against her face as she licks you. Your orgasm starts to subside and she finishes her morning meal, moving to rest beside you. 
“Good morning,” you say, voice still breathy. 
“Good morning,” she chuckles, pulling you into her chest. 
Her hand fingers make swirls against your skin and after a beat of silence she says, “…Maybe we could have some more fun in the shower?”
You let out a faux sigh in annoyance before laughing and getting up out of bed. You pull off your t-shirt, playfully tossing it at her. Her jaw falls open as your chest becomes exposed.
“Fine. I’ll go turn on the water but you have to strip the bed. I’m holding you to that!” you say.
You turn on your heel and walk out of the bedroom with a sway of your hips. 
You hear her scramble to her feet behind you.
“Be right there!” 
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dawn-in-neocity · 9 months
Text
“best friend” (™️) nct dream
(that is your man, you’re just in denial)
mark
y’all are only missing the relationship title at this point. you’re always the first to hear his new music. he values your opinion so much. loves lending you hoodies and jackets because when you return them they smell like you. tells you how cute you are 100 times a day. boops your nose and pinches your chin. sends you 360s of his fresh haircuts. shows up to all your events (sports, work events, art, fundraisers, anything you do). makes pinky promises with you.
renjun
you two slowly move into more than friends territory. brings you flowers “for your room”. picks up your vocab without realizing it. reserves his gentlest speaking voice for you only. listens intently to anything and everything you have to say. you two do road-trips and mini getaways all the time. vents to you. creates the perfect bite from his meal for you to try whenever you’re eating together. forehead kisses!!! will be the one to initiate the “what are we” conversation.
jeno
he’s simply your jeno and you do not wish to elaborate. his arm is always draped over the back of your seat. you’re together so often that his friends are confused when you’re NOT at his place. slips up and calls you babe (and keeps at it since you don’t seem to mind). you two are always in a corner laughing it UP about something. y’all dressed up as harley quinn and the joker for halloween. ALWAYS ties your shoelaces for you no matter where you are.
haechan
that’s just your bf i hate to break it to you. posts soft launch-esque pics of you two on his story. everyone thinks you’re dating. teases you by poking his finger into your side. why are you standing so close to each other? his hair is touching your forehead? move? plays with your fingers. named the stuffed animal you won him and now deems it your love child. places your legs on top of his when you sit beside each other. texts you “this made me think of you” at least 4x a week.
jaemin
he would marry you tomorrow if you agreed. makes it clear that it’s you or no one else for him. greets you with a veryyy friendly kiss on the cheek. 0 chill when it comes to pda. got you a really nice gift for valentine’s day. tells you he’s in love with you daily, just in other words. spam comments on your posts. SO flirty. blows kisses and winks at you type of flirty. STARES; like heart shaped pupils, dopey smile staring. “it’s late, you should just sleep over :)”.
chenle
has known you forever and has basically been your bf forever. regularly texts your mother. brings you to all his family events. affectionately bites you. holds your face in his hands and squishes your cheeks together. casually drops the most heartwarming compliments ever. never corrects people when they refer to you as his s/o. places your hand on his arm when you guys walk together. gets close to your face and pulls away when you’re about to kiss. dies when you do it back.
jisung
you two have never been just friends tbh. will bail on plans just to stay in and watch netflix with you. calls you a version/nickname of your name only he uses. asks you for head scratches when he’s tired. picks up on your moods so easily like how??? actively keeps up with all your school/work tea. always brings you a little treat when he comes to see you. forgets you’re meant to be low-key when he drinks and gets very… loving. y’all are always falling asleep on facetime.
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kaizynofsickness · 3 months
Text
Choso x reader... Breathe, Just breathe
Choso x reader~Breathe, just breathe~
Synopsis: Basically virgin experience. You have been dating Choso for 6 months and the topic about sex has been in the air for a while, so now it comes to action and he's... Huge.
WARNINGS: Really gentle sex, big dick Choso (7.2 painful inches and he is thick), pet names (sweetheart, baby, princess, love), popped cherry and some blood on dick, natural virginity loss themes, tears of pleasure, Choso's insanely hard and it's mentioned a lot, foreplay, slight size kink I guess, unprotected sex, mentions of toys (none used), mentions if touching yourself (in the past, none happened), 'rubbing', Reader squirts but she never has before, praising, soft Dom! Choso, sweet talk, pillow talk.
Songs that match: Streets (Silhouette Remix) by Dojo Cat
Angels in Tibet by Amaarae
You've been dating Choso for a few months now, 6 months to be exact. He's a quiet and loyal lover, he also has his goofy side that mixes girlfriend and best friend vibes. But there's been a little bit of tension in the air about the topic to carry the relationship out more... Sex. You love those intimate moments with him and the thought has crossed your mind often. It's just... You never had sex. You don't know about Choso (he hasn't), but they say the quiet ones have the best dick... And maybe you could find out..?
But little did you know your 'innocent' boyfriend was thinking about it even more than you. Every time he kisses you and gets a taste, he wonders how you taste in your pussy. He ponders how wet you can get from a simple loving touch... How loud he can make you, how messy it'll get? The scenarios make his pants tighten... If needed, he'll take the time out of his day to learn how to really please you until you're on cloud 9, dying from pleasure and a sloppy mess... Or maybe do you want him to drown in between your legs? Do you want to be on top of him? God, he overcomplicates it.
"Just fuck her..." Choso talks to himself and lets his hair fall out of his ponytail as he runs his fingers through it. He stares down at his hard on... This is all because of you, the thought of you. It's been so long he's been thinking about it. He grabs his phone and calls you up. He'll make that first move...
Choso's heart strings and paces when he hears the dial ringing... Then your voice greeting him with a 'hello?'
"Hey, sweetheart." Choso casually answers you, subconsciously putting a fist on his straining clothed dick. "Can you come over to my place?" He gets to the point. "Hm, why?" Your voice reaches over the other line. Choso gulps...
'To fuck you in ways you couldn't imagine. I want to see your face when you can't breathe right and when the pleasure is sickening...' how bad he wishes to tell you all of that... "I want to see you, love." Choso half lies. He hears your soft voice giggle mockingly. "Okay, fine. I'll be there in 10." The line clicks. Choso finally lets out a breath... He swears he forgot to breathe. Choso normally can call you with no problem, actually, sleepy calls are one of his many favorite things to do with you. He just hopes you couldn't hear the stress in his voice or the sound of his fiddling with the fabric on his groin. He looks down again only to see it's grown and God, doesn't it hurt.
Ten minutes and you'll be here. Choso looks around his room, his bed is made and things out where they need to be, nothing out of place on the floor. It should be comfortable for you as much as it should be for him, you'll most likely be the one bleeding when he breaks your hymen... Shit, right, he'll hurt you either way no matter how gentle and sweet he is. Plus his big dick and then his boner and him being a grower. It would be any woman's dream, but not a virgins... Maybe he'll use these ten minutes to get rid of his boner. But he wants to save it for you. He ignores the pain and goes to wait outside his room for you...
When he hears a knock, his dick seems to gather all the attention once again. Lucky him he's wearing loose clothes or else it would be so noticeable. He walks over and opens the door--- "Hey, Cho." You stand on your hip wearing a baggy foggy blue T shirt and black tights with yellow and blue stars placed on your thighs and your calf with matching blue shoes with your shirt. You look so fucking cute in such a well thought outfit yet he still wants to rip it off of you. "C'mon, Y/N." He grabs your wrist and slides his fingers down to your hand, interlocking touch. He leads you to his room. You stupidly and cluelessly follow him with a chirpy smile. "Are we going to watch TV or something? All you really wanted was to see me so..." You ask and take a seat on the edge of his bed, resting your elbows on your thighs while glancing at him... *Shutting and locking* the door. He takes a while to answer your question, looking a little blushful. "Y-yeah... Pick one, baby." He turns to you with a sweet reassuring smile. You grab his remote and turn the TV on, going on Cinema and scrolling down. Choso sits next to you, obviously keeping a 6 inch distance from you. You easily notice it, side eyeing him as he sits so stiff. You shuffle near him, leaning on his shoulder. Choso jolts and looks over to you, your face so close to his and your lips looking so damn kissable. He hides it with an awkward chuckle and firmly rubs on your back. You pick the popular movie, Human Earthworm 4, a classic splatter horror movie. Choso rolls his eyes at your movie choice. "Lemme see it, baby." He reaches your hand with his only to be swatted away. "I wanna see this..." You give him a pouty face.
That made him even harder. His eyes lock on yours pathetically and he squeezes the fabric of his pants. Your eyes roll up to look at his with your lips out in an adorable pout. Shit, could you make that face while getting stuffed with cock? He looks away and moves his hands from the remote, allowing you to see whatever. You make a little happy sound before turning the movie back on.
"AHHHH!" Screams emit from the TV. Blood splatters everywhere and guts pour while the man begins to tear the victim's mouth. You yawn on Choso shoulder before nuzzling closer. "You're warm... Can I get on top of you? I wanna sit in your lap." You give him a hopeful stare.
"Uh-" God, you look so cute with a begging face. Why does tonight must he turn everything holy to something sexual? And for you to sit on his lap, on his crotch, his painful hard dick... It would cause him to flip you and give it all to you right then and there.
He takes too long to answer and you climb into his lap and snuggle---
Something pokes you. You jolt up. A hard as rock texture right under your ass, almost near your hole. You look down to see if it was the remote. "H-holy shit, Cho..." You give him a hot and sweaty stare with a face flushed red and a crooked, shocked smile. Choso grumbles, looking down at where you're sitting. "Uh..." You never seen him hard before.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry but... Damn I couldn't stop thinking about you and... Shit, I seem like some perv, huh?" He awkwardly laughs, ruffling his hair and ruining his two ponytails, one coming undone. You swallow hard, unable to say anything. "A-about me...?" You manage to say.
Through the TV and its screams and bloody sounds with the colors lighting up the dimly lit bedroom, all you can hear is Choso's unhinged breathing and see his worried face. "Yes... I was thinking of..." He paused, trying to find the words to sugarcoat it. "Damn it. I just wanted to have sex with you. It's been a hard topic to bring up." He says through his teeth. You blink stupidly and glare at his face to his ever so hard dick and back to his red face. You abruptly let out a breathy laugh and squirm a bit. "I don't mind you taking my first..." You say in your hand, getting all flustered. Even with the horror show playing, it feels so hot and romantic. In pure shock he looks up at your face, all red, matching his. "Are you sure..? Because right after I get your consent I'm undressing you and pressing you down." He grabs your hands and cups them, giving you a serious stare. "Yes--"
Choso wasn't joking, because from then he placed you off his lap and onto the mattress on a pillow and began to take his shirt off. You watch as his muscular complex unfolds before you. You've seen it so many times before, but it wasn't as hot as it is now and the TV's red glow illuminating the room gives it such a sexual vibe. You shudder at the sight. Choso's hands tug at your waist line before sliding your pants off. "I'm going to ask again... And as a warning... I'm... Pretty big." He caresses your thigh and rubs live circles. "I'm sure I can take it..." You rub your hand and swiftly move your fingers through his hair and purposely undo his other ponytail, his soft and silky black hair falling down to his shoulders. He hums in response, "I... don't think so." He still removes your pants and shaky removes your panties.
Out of instinct, you pull your baggy foggy blue T shirt down and cover your pussy and squeeze your thighs together. Choso looks a little worried that you covered yourself and also because he wanted to admire your body. "Love... We need to remove your shirt unless you want it on?" His frame hovers over yours, his legs straddled around yours. You look up at him with a worried glance. God, he looks so hot like that. Glaring down at you with his long hair, his bare chest and pants dangerously low on his hips.
To show you're okay and comfortable, you lift your shirt off and unclip your bra, tossing it to the side. Choso's eyes roam all over your nude body and his boner grows. "Fuck..." He curses under his breath. He needs to be inside... Now. But he takes his time and slides a finger in between your legs, earning a small 'eep' from you in the process. You slowly open your legs wider to let him inside. He rubs on your clit and moves to find your cunt. Slowly, his middle finger goes it. That's when he realizes how tight you are. You're going to need some mad stretching... You wrap your arms around his back as he leans closer to you and plants feather kisses on your neck. You mutter something out while his finger pushes in deeper. He gently runs it in and out before pressing it in and curling his fingers. Soon, he adds his ring finger in and gets you all wet.
Of course, you had your fingers inside yourself before but yours aren't as long and as thick as his. And the way he is so gentle with it makes you all whiney.
Choso gets rougher with your before trying harder to please you. "C...Cho." You whimper in his ear. It takes every fiber in his being not to put in his dick. You say you can handle it, you claim with a little smirk. As if. A whole 7.2 inches long and a width of 2 inches... And he's a grower, so God knows what he is right now, and let's hope for your sake it's not even an inch. "What is it, baby?" He looks into your glossy eyes. "What's wrong...?" He rubs your cheeks. "I can take it... No n-need to restrain yourself." You claim. Choso shakes his head and plunges his fingers in deeper to silence you. "Not yet, princess... Be patient. You're still so tight and it won't work-" he tries his best to clarify that to you. You pout at him. Choso presses his lips onto yours and melts you with his tongue kiss. You moan into his mouth and whine. He pulls apart and a small strand of saliva hangs beside he does down again to lick your lips and enjoying your flavor all while thrusting his fingers and curling them inside your wet walls. You close your eyes in bliss and focus on the pleasure. You open them to see his hot body with the TV'S flashing blue and yellow to red lights on him through half lidded eyes. Who knew he could look so damn majestic while being so filthy? He begins to go rougher on you, your wetness seeping out. You moan helplessly, in such ecstasy as his fingers work magic in you. "Ngh... C-Choso, I--- shit~" your eyes roll in the back of your head, the pleasure chasing you. It gets all fuzzy and you just succumb willingly, knowing you're safe in his hands. He smirks at your state and goes down to bite the flesh near your neck and trail wet kisses down your neck to your chest. His thumb sneakily finds its place to message your clit. Your breath hitches-- "Sh, baby... I got it."
No way it's his first time. He's multitasking like he's done this before, like he has bodies on bodies of women and maybe even men... He's doing way too well for someone's first time. But the truth is, he just spent time learning how to please you and he's doing what he thinks is right.
You arch you back when the familiar feeling (because you to please yourself) builds up and makes your heart pound in your ears. But then the pleasure shifts to an overwhelmingly stuffed feeling... It feels so different to you. "Somethings... Happening..." You squeak out weakly. But Choso doesn't stop, matter of fact, he goes harder, the lewd sounds echoing. "Choso~" you try to warn and move his hands away but he grabs your hand and interlocks your finger, pressing it above your head. Your voice gets louder and your sweet moans drown out the TV. You cum on his fingers for the first time, yet it comes out different. It almost gushes and it's a huge mess.
It felt so different ...
Choso smirks at his work before kissing you breathless. His fingers slowly go out, your slick connecting with his fingers before he breaks it, pulling away. "What did I just do?" You question hazily as if Choso knows. "You had an orgasm. I'm sure that's not your first one..."
"N-no, but it was so intense and--!"
Choso cuts off your rambling and kisses you sweetly. "Did you feel good?" He asks you lowly in such a sexy tone. You pause before timidly nodding. "Then that's all that matters..."
Finally, he presses you on your back and puts your knees near your head. He unties the knot in his pants before pulling his dick out. Your eyes widen and the shear size. He's... He's fucking unrealistically big. At least to a virgin who never saw this in real life, in front of her face. Choso looks at your face with worry. "I'll be easy on you, okay? Besides, you said you can take it all..." He positions his dick head to your wet cunt. "I didn't think you'd be s-so damn big...!"
His tip pushes inside you, the thickness stretching you out more than his two fingers did. Thanks to his careful prepping, it goes in much easier than imagined. "Ah... Gosh, you feel better than I imagined..." he grits his teeth. "So tight still..." He grunts. You cry out and claw at his back, feeling tears build up. Choso quickly goes to rub the tear and kiss some stray ones away and to your quivering lips. "I got you..." He whispers to you. Only 3 inches in and it begins to hurt. "Cho...so... N-no more..." You whimper and squirm around his size. "S' big..." Your eyes water. "One more? A little bit more, kay? I won't put it all in, just a bit..." He condolences you while his hand grabs your neck. Yet the way his hand wraps around your neck doesn't feel threatening or in a sadistic way, he doesn't put any pressure at all. He just holds your neck and rubs. You nod and give him consent... He pushes a little more in before stopping. 4 inches in completely, yet you still have 3, almost 4 more to go. And it almost hurts you. "Adjust, baby. Get comfortable." He speaks firmly.
"I'm f-fine..." You hic with lazy eyes staring at him, tears daring to come out. Choso takes his thumb and smears a tear away. "Mmh... You're so warm around me." His eyes go half lidded and hazy, taking long blinks. You can feel him subconsciously putting more inches in you while he thrusts out. The slow way he does it and rolls his hips, buckling them to yours before pulling out and shoving it back in. It sends a pleasing pain to you. "Oh, s' much... Inches!" You squeal out and toss your head to the side, drool pooling out the corner of your soft lips. Now 6 inches are in you. You're full of cock and it makes you sick off of it. "Can I put the last bit in, princess?" He asks you, his lips dangerously close to your. "Yes..." All of it is in, the base of his dick touching your wetness. He pulls it all out and sees blood... He popped your cherry, your hymen is broken. "Do you feel okay?" The blood causes him to question. You look at him with lustful eyes with a weak pleased smile. "I... Feel different." You exhale sexily. Choso smirks before pushing his dick back in with some ease. The full feeling spreads again. He begins to move in the same previous motion, his hips rolling and his dick pressing on your G-spot. Your breath stalls from the full feeling. You scream out, moans echoing around and fitting the mood. Your eyes water and chest rises before abruptly stopping. You breath hitches from when the full length comes back in, so much inches of cock killing your insides, more blood getting on it. His hot and sweaty hand moves away from your neck and rests on your chest. "Breathe, just breathe..." He coaxes you. You try your hardest, but you've never been so damn full before. His hard dick glides in at a faster pace, you cunt loosening and making him feel so good. He moans out and lowers his head, black hair strands hanging while he goes rougher... Soon, he's pounding in you, the sound of skin to skin hitting being so loud your moans almost drown out. You grips onto his back for support and tears stream, yet even in such a horny state, Choso kisses the salty water away and rubs on your thighs before giving your hand a loving firm squeeze. All of this shows just how much he lives you and he's trying to make you feel as good as he can. You gasp out when he pounds balls deep, the pleasure becoming too much. "Choso--"
"Breathe baby, it's f-fine---fuck---you're okay~" he tries to keep in all of his bottom moans. You mewl helplessly and feel that same overstock orgasm... Your nails begin to cut a thin layer of skin on his back when the feeling rises. "shit, i-its coming, im---" you squirt uncontrollably, clear liquid flowing out. Choso fucks you through it, loving how you twitch around him and squeeze. It causes his orgasm to creep around. What he has been waiting for, he saved it for you because he wanted to cum for you and only you. Choso thrusts into you like a hungry man and pulls out right when the white cum whips out, seed falling on your stomach and some in between your shaky warm thighs.
You both pant heavily as the after glow. Choso takes his time to admire the mess in front of you, your hair is messy, your body has his cum on display, your cum and how it drenched the sheets and his pants, the way your chest rises and falls, you glistening pussy. He snaps out his trance when your eyes lock on his. "Cho...?" You breathe heavily, still trying to collect air. "Yeah, sweetheart?" He leans over you and wipes some staining tears on your face. "C-can we take a bath together?"
How could he say no?
He took you to the bathroom, he placed you in the warm water with him. In the shower, he simply couldn't keep his hands off you, offering to help bathe you knowing damn well he was asking just to feel all over you again. He kept kissing you whenever you were distracted and loved to lick over the hickeys he left all over your neck and get firm grips on your breast, nibble on your ear, grind on you. It was like he was still so horny and needy for you. But your fucked out, cumming twice was so overstimulating, and that wasn't even a regular orgasm that happens when you play with yourself.
He stayed in the bed with you, having you wrapped in his arms as he whispered to you. "Did I do well?" He constantly asks. "Yes, for the 29th time. Are we going to make it 30?" You playfully roll your eyes. Choso fleecy chuckles and snugs you closer. "I just like the affirmation." He says into the crook of your neck. "Because I'll tell you over and over again how amazing you did for me..." His voice lowers and goes straight to your heart. You scoff and look down at his deep purple eyes that shimmer for your affection. "I didn't even do anything..." You grumble, getting redder at the second. "You made me cum and got me ever so hard plus let me take your virginity."
"That's what you do in sex, Cho..." You run your fingers through his hair (you do it so much it's like second nature). Choso sighs heavily and looks at your sleepy eyes. "I know... But seems like what you didn't know about the after affects of sex. You're getting sleepy." He brushes his finger over your red nose, turning redder. You mumble into his chest . "Sh..."
He rumbles a laugh and kisses the top of your forehead and gets into a comfy position with your legs straddled around him. "Rest well, princess..."
✨Ze End✨
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keikikait · 4 months
Text
ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)
word count: 2.6k
summary: you always wanted to be a teacher, even after discovering the jujutsu world. after graduating from kyoto jujutsu high, you decided to make your dreams a reality and teach at the sister school, tokyo jujutsu high. the only downside (and secret upside), is your teaching mentor, satoru gojo. what started as a few flirtatious glances turned into a full-blown relationship situationship. you were his, and he was yours, until he goes on a date.
warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst?, plot with basically no porn (i’m sorry), gojo is kind of an asshole & a tease, implied dom!gojo and sub!reader, nickname use [baby, pretty girl], no use of y/n  
a note: been sitting on this bad boy for a while and decided to finish it. more parts to come (eventually). also, the comment about flirty baristas is just for fluff, baristas don’t flirt with customers (source: i am one). also also, they say tokyo jujutsu high is on the outskirts of tokyo, but i wanted everything to be inside of tokyo so i just kinda guessed, whoops.
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
You were just his teaching assistant. Nothing more.
At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.
Secretly, you were his. After long hours, he would find solace in your arms as you lay in bed together. 
You weren’t dating by any means, although you wanted to. You understood why, it wouldn’t be a good look for you or Gojo if the higher-ups found out about you, but you both had an understanding. You were exclusive, just not publicly. You followed his rules, turning down dates and avoiding the flirtatious gazes of baristas or waiters.
You thought he would follow his own rules, too.
It was supposed to be a fun trip; a peaceful eight days of relaxing in Nikko before returning to school after the winter break ended. In reality, it was a week and some change stuck in a log cabin hunched over a desk grading papers, freezing from the cold. The gender-segregated cabins didn’t help. It was too cold to venture into Nikko during the day, a thick layer of snow covering the ground at all times no matter how much was shoveled. It was also, as Gojo had pointed out the day before making the trip, suspicious for the two of you to venture into the city alone. It was twice as hard to be away from him at night, you had gotten so accustomed to sleeping in his arms and hearing his soft snores in your ear. You were lonely.
You could see him, though. The men’s cabin was bigger and had a massive irori in the middle that heated the entire place. You sat with him as you graded and planned lessons, and his teasing touches left you aching. You were going on 8 days without his dick, and you were dying.
As you sit hunched over the desk, trying to make out what Yuji had written on his worksheet, Shoko bounds up to the table, sliding into a chair opposite Gojo. 
“Hey, Gojo,” she says. “Are you going to the winter festival when we get back?”
You tried not to react. You had begged him to go with you, but he always gave you the same excuse; it was suspicious.
He stretches his legs out a bit and smirks. “I was planning on stopping by. Why?”
Shoko smiles. “I have this friend, Himiko. She’s new to the city and was looking for a date for the festival. I’ve been telling her all about you, I honestly think you would be an amazing match. What do you say?”
You feel your heart drop to your stomach. Although you and Gojo had agreed to stay exclusive, you couldn’t ignore that he was Satoru Gojo. Everyone wanted him.
Gojo chuckles a little, adjusting his mask. “Sure. I don’t see why not. Is she cute?”
Shoko leans over the table and shows him Himiko’s social media while you keep your head down, staring at the pile of worksheets in front of you.
You keep grading, trying to focus on your work and not the feeling of your heart tearing in two. Gojo continues laughing and talking to Shoko, their conversation drowned out by your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You wish you could ignore your jealousy, but it’s hard to ignore the anxiety creeping up your spine at the thought of Gojo finding someone else, especially if he could go public with them.
You know his reputation; the ladies' man, the bachelor. The guy no one can catch. But you know the real Gojo, the one that stays over at your small apartment even though he has his own, bigger place. The one that cuddles you every morning and whines when you try to get up and get ready.
You don’t know this Gojo. You felt like strangers.
For the rest of the day, you kept to yourself, grading papers and reading books to try to drown out the thoughts. He isn’t even looking at you when you leave the men’s cabin and head back to your own. You and the rest of the staff leave Nikko tonight, and you have one more day of freedom back in Tokyo before the new term begins.
You pack up your stuff and wait outside the bus, shoving your suitcase into the undercarriage. A headcount is done before you all start piling onto the bus. You sit in the back, pressed up against the frost-covered window. Headphones in and music blaring, you only look up from your phone when you feel someone warm sit next to you.
You’re a little surprised when you look up to see Gojo getting comfortable next to you. He didn’t sit next to you on the ride to Nikko, he sat up at the front with Shoko and Akari, claiming it would be suspicious if you sat together. He leans closer, so close that you can almost feel his breath on your neck. Then he grabs your arm, moving your headphones out of your ear.
“Don’t wear these in public,” he says in a low voice, “Someone might grab you from behind and pull you into the crowd.” He leans into you and whispers, “I almost missed you sitting back here.”
You should be mad, but you can’t be. His smell fills your nostrils and you feel yourself succumbing to him. You smile softly. “You didn’t, though.”
"I didn't." He leans back and sighs, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his arms out. You enjoy the warmth coming from him, the way it spreads through you. "What do you want to do when we get back home? We can head out to a bar and grab a drink. Or we could go get some ramen from that place you like. Or we can just go back to your place and we can spend some…quality time together.”
You bite your lip a little. You’re normally a little feral when it comes to Gojo, but going without his touch for eight days has almost sent you into a frenzy. “I like the sound of that last one…”
Gojo laughs and squeezes your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles. "And how bad do you want it?" He leans in closer until his face is inches away from yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in the air. "How badly do you miss me, baby?"
You can hardly think straight. Your mind is telling you to push him off, to stay upset with him for accepting that date with Shoko’s friend, whatever her name was. But your heart, and more importantly your pussy, is telling you differently.
Your mouth feels like cotton, but you manage to say, “So badly, Gojo. I’ve been aching without you. These past eight days have been driving me crazy.”
Gojo chuckles and traces your chin with his fingers, leaning even closer as his face towers over yours. "You missed me, huh? My pretty girl didn’t do so good without me, did she?" He strokes your cheek gently, smiling as you lean into his touch, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. "Say it. Tell me what you've been wanting to tell me for the last eight days, what you didn't want to say in front of everyone."
The bus suddenly lurches and you remember where you are, on a cramped bus surrounded by your coworkers. You look around, nervous, hoping nobody caught you guys.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Gojo asks. He grabs your chin and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”
You do, nodding softly. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel him staring into your soul. “I am looking.”
“Then answer my question.” He says, dragging his thumb across your lips. You can hardly think straight already being this close to him, but the feeling of his thumb on your mouth is mind-numbing. 
“I missed you,” you whimper. It’s been a long eight days since you last felt his touch, since you last felt his breath on your skin. As he continues to stroke your lip with his thumb, you feel your mind melt away into a puddle. His touch is like a drug, and you’re desperate to not end this feeling.
“I know you have.” He coos, moving his hand down as someone up by the front gets up from their seat to change positions. He waits until they sit down before speaking again, “I’ve missed you too.”
You sink further into the seat, hoping no one looks towards the back. The bus ride isn’t super long, only about two and a half hours. Maybe no one would think to check on you two until you made it back to Tokyo.
He reaches over and turns your face towards him again. “But that’s not all, is it?” His thumb glides across your neck, his eyes under his mask flicking between your own and your lips. You can’t look away. You don’t want to. “What else have you been thinking about?”
You gulp, your mouth dry. "It's been so hard without you. It's hard to fall asleep...and I've barely gotten any sleep here because I stay up all night thinking about you."
"You have?" His eyes search your face as his thumb strokes the length of your neck. "I haven't had the best sleep either. I kept thinking about you, about how much I missed you. Thinking about all of the things I wanted to do to you when I got back." He takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking to your lips, his breath coming out in hot puffs of air. "You make it so hard for me to have self-control. Do you know how hard it is to jerk off with Masamichi and Kiyotaka nearby?"
You nod, understanding him completely. You had tried to touch yourself, too, hoping that your fingers would feel the same but it felt weird to do it with Shoko and Akari in the same cabin. “I know. I haven’t cum since we left Tokyo.”
He hears the soft whine in your voice and grins. "You’re so tempting," His breath washes over you as he whispers those words in your ear. His hands trail from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jawline. "Do you know what I want to do with you when we get to your place? What I'm thinking about doing to you right now?"
The bus takes a sharp turn going down the mountain and it snaps both of you back to reality for a second. 
You notice his hands still on you. Gojo notices too and grins, removing his hands with a sigh. He leans back into the seat. "Sorry," he says, running his hands through his hair. "I was a little carried away there." He chuckles. "We have a while before the bus arrives. I think maybe I should go to the front before I do anything stupid."
You go to protest but he’s already gone, striding to the front of the bus effortlessly as it rocks side to side, plopping himself next to Akari. You sit there, your body still feeling the heat of his hands, his words still ringing in your ears. You sink deeper into the seat as you try to calm down. You watch him for a while, seeing how he talks and laughs with Akari and Shoko and the way he never glances back toward you. 
You feel like a stranger to him, yet he’s the one who’s supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be together, even though your situation is less than ideal. The bus rocks back and forth, its engines humming quietly. You lean your head back against the seat, letting out a deep sigh. Your mind races, wondering how Gojo acts when you're not around. Did he only accept this date with Himiko to make Shoko happy? Why wasn't it ever you that made him happy?
You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you pull down the food tray and prop your phone up. You put on your favourite movie, hoping the familiar faces of the characters will distract you until you reach Tokyo. Occasionally you look up at him, hoping you’ll catch his eye before he goes back to his conversation but you don’t. He doesn’t look at you once.
The movie sucks you in like it has many times before. You don’t notice how fast time is moving, silver-tipped mountains giving way to serene towns and stretched farmland. It’s late, almost 1 am, and as soon as you feel yourself starting to fall asleep you feel the bus stop and hear the driver announce your arrival, right in front of Tokyo Jujutsu High.
You look over to see him already heading off of the bus with Shoko and Akari, heading in the direction of Kabukicho, laughing about an inside joke you’ll never be a part of. You grab your bag from the undercarriage and head to the train to head back to your apartment in Taito-Ku.
The train is packed full of tired salarymen and high school students, none of whom bother you. Your thoughts drift to Gojo as the train shakes and shudders its way back home. When the train finally reaches Taito-Ku’s station, you exit the train and head down the stairs, stepping out into the frozen city. You walk to your apartment and head inside, shutting the door to your small, solitary room.
You lie awake, hoping he’ll call you, or even show up at your front door drunk. It wouldn’t be the first time. The minutes turn into hours, your eyes shifting rapidly as you glance between your phone and the door. You start to wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about him right now. And what he’s thinking. You glance at your clock. 2:57 AM.
You shouldn’t feel disappointed, but you do. He could’ve at least texted you and told you he would be out with his friends for the night instead of being curled up with you watching a cooking show. You’re his, but you’re not his girlfriend. He has no obligation to do anything with you, really, but you wish he would. You wish he cared enough to want to.
Your eyes glance back toward your phone and you hesitate. You mumble a curt fuck before picking it up and calling him. The phone is ice cold against your cheek as it rings. You wonder what your contact name is on his phone. Your name? Your name and a heart? Or is it just your number, unsaved?
He answers and you can hear faint music in the background. “Hey, baby.”
You smile a little, biting your lip. “Hi. I just wanted to see if you were coming over tonight.”
You hear him groan a little, but you don’t know if it’s out of annoyance with you or how late it is. “Yeah, I was planning on it. But uh, Shoko brought her friend tonight, Himiko. The one I’m going to the festival with.”
You nearly choke on your spit. The way he was so casual about his date with Himiko made you feel sick. “Oh, did she?”
“Yeah, baby. How are you though-” His words are interrupted by a female voice in the background begging for him to come back inside. “Uh, listen, I gotta go. I’ll be home soon, okay?”
“Okay, I-” The call ends, your phone beeping at you as he hangs up. You set your phone aside, face down, as you lay back on your bed. 
You feel ashamed as you cry. Gojo isn’t your boyfriend, and he has a reputation to uphold with his colleagues. You should be fine with it, but you aren’t, and it kills you. You bury your face in your pillow as you sob, hoping one day you and Gojo can stop being strangers.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
part two is here
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starogeorgina · 10 months
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Redemption
Warning: Swearing, smut, hints of violence
Pairing: Ivar × reader
1.01
“Ivar!”
“What?” He whines like a child before placing a soft kiss on your bare hip and pouting up at you, his lips still slightly red and swollen from kissing you so roughly. “I told you I wanted us to have a child of our own,” he states, pushing himself further down the bed so he can have a full view of your own puffy lips. Ivar had a fascination with watching his cum drip out of you. He would often try to push it back in with his fingers or clean you up with his tongue. “I want to see you around with my child, a creation of our love.”
“I know you do.” You let out a soft groan when his finger lightly brushes over your clit. “But I’m so sensitive, I just need a moment to…”
“You’ve spilled too much of my seed,” he says, ignoring what you previously said. “I’ll need to put more inside you if we wish for this to work.”
“Hmm… fuck!” You moan loudly as he places a strong hand on either side of your head before thrusting himself inside you for the third time that evening.
Fucking was one of your favourite things to do, but Ivar would push you to the point of exhaustion with how many orgasms he gave you. He always made sure you came at least once before fucking you into oblivion.
You nip at Ivar’s bare chest with your teeth, and he flinches slightly, causing you to giggle. Burying your face into his neck, you mumble, “How long will you be gone for?”
“I am unsure, but I will return to you,” he says, kissing the back of your knuckles, “to our family as a proud man, not as a cripple.”
Shuffling into a more comfortable position on your back, you let out a huff. You understood why Ivar needed to go to England with his father, but you still didn’t like it. Usually you remained close by his side, but being pregnant, you decided to stay behind in Kattegat, despite Ragnar asking you to join them personally. Queen Aslaug had a dream of her husband and son drowning because of a storm, but neither of them cared much for her warning, so you tried not to worry too much; you needed to believe Ivar would always find his way back to you. Letting out a deep sigh, your hand moves to cradle your ever-growing bump.
“My sweet, sweet Drifa, I can see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you I will not die on this journey.”
“You better not; I’ll need you by my side when I deliver our child. I don’t want to do it alone.”
“You won’t be alone. If I’m not here, my brothers and mother will remain by your side.”
“I know,” you say, toying with strands of fur from the blanket covering your chest, “but they aren’t you.”
Ivar kisses the crown of your head, stroking your hair as you start to fall asleep. There was no possible way he could assure you he wouldn’t die, but he would try to comfort you the best he could. You’d grown up alongside the sons of Ragnar, with your mother and Aslaug being so close, so you’d known Ivar all your life. You had considered him your closest friend before any romantic relationship had developed between you, but the flames of desire had been burning ever since he killed a boy who tried to force himself on you.
It would absolutely break your heart if Ivar didn’t return home.
You opened your eyes, scanning the dimly lit room to see where the sound in the distance was coming from. You saw nothing but recognised the heavy breathing as your husband's, so you closed your eyes again. Leaning your head back, you try to enjoy the warmth surrounding your body as Ivar drags himself into the room. You had the slaves fill you with a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing continuously to wash away the blood that stained your skin. Your thighs and groin were red and raw, but you continued to clean each time you saw the blood from your miscarriage reappear.
It seemed like the right decision at the time to remain in Kattegat, but you were there when the village came under attack and witnessed Lagertha killing Aslaug while her back was turned. Moments later, you fell to the ground, screaming as a pain ripped through your lower abdomen as you lost your unborn child.
Lagertha had spared your life after you attempted to kill her by throwing an ax at her head. She thought that by letting you live, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t seek revenge for their mother. Oh, how wrong she was.
“They say being in water so warm isn’t good for you, my love.” Your husband says he's propping himself up by his arms, leaning them on the side of the tub so he’s level with you.
You shrug.
“I can have one of the slaves help you get out and dressed if you’re in too much pain.”
Shaking your head, you press your forehead against Ivar’s. To most, he was a sadist and bloodthirsty man, nothing more than a man who craved violence to fill the void in his heart, but he had never treated you with anything but kindness and respect. Ivar found the love he always craved from you in spite of others thinking your relationship would fail. Since Margarethe spread rumors claiming Ivar couldn’t please a woman sexually, the other sons of Ragner enjoyed teasing Ivar, saying it wouldn’t be long until you left him for someone else, not that you ever would.
“No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, I want to stay in here until the water cools down.”
Ivar brushes damp hair behind your ear as tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Perhaps the gods took our child early so that my mother wouldn’t be alone.”
“Perhaps,” you sob. Ivar had been furious upon learning of his mother's death and had sworn to kill Lagertha one day, but he was trying his best to contain his rage around you. “Queen Aslaug deserved better. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened to her, but her death will be avenged.”
“We will have our revenge on Lagertha, but for now we will bid our time. First you will regain your strength, then we will have revenge on those who are responsible for my father's death, and then we will have retribution for what happened to my mother.”
A mixture of dampness and thick smoke hung heavily in the air as you stepped outside for the first time in days. Hiding away wasn’t going to change what happened, and you wanted to at least appear strong on the outside. The first person to greet you is Ubbe, who pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry, Drifa; I know how happy you and Ivar were to finally start a family of your own.”
Hvitserk hugs you next but says nothing. Behind you, Sigurd makes a crude comment about Ivar losing his mommy and then his surrogate mommy right after. You keep your composure, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Sigurd had attempted to seduce you several times since you married his brother, but each time you rejected him, making him bitter towards you.
“That’s enough,” Ubbe snaps.
Irritated, your fingers tap against one of the tables loudly, gaining all of the brothers attention. You narrow your eyes at Sigurd as your fingers slide over the selection of weapons already laid out on the table for the purpose of gutting fish.
“Just ignore him,” Hvitserk says, attempting to calm you down. “My brother is just jealous; he doesn’t even have a woman to stick his cock in.”
“Is that right, Sigurd? You are making jokes at the expense of my dead child because your dick is lonely? I’m sure we could find a nice pig for you.”
His face reddens with embarrassment when his brothers all laugh at him. “You’re nothing but a whore; we all know Ivar couldn’t possibly be the father of that thing that was growing inside you. He isn’t man enough.”
“Do not insult Ivar in front of me!”
“Why? Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit about a cripple.”
You grab hold of the knife next to you and aim it at Sigurd. The edge of the knife scrapes across the side of his face, cutting it in the process. When Sigurd goes to take a step towards you, Ubbe steps in between you and says, “No more; you’ve upset our sister enough for one day.”
Another reason Sigurd hates you is because his family accepts you as one of their own. Aslaug treated you like a daughter, and his brothers were very protective of you. They admired your loyalty to Ivar.
“I am counting down the days until my husband finally kills you!” You hiss.
Hearing a laugh, you turn your head back to see Ivar observing the scene with a smile on his face. He had managed to crawl so quietly that nobody noticed him sitting on the opposite side of the table from where you stood. He claps his hands in amusement and says, “Isn’t she fantastic? Beautiful and violent.” Ivar licks his lips before sitting back in the chair. “Now, let us begin to plan our next move.”
Ivar motions for you to come over to him; when you do, he guides you till you’re sitting atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around your back while your legs dangle over his. He kisses your cheek and says, “Good girl, your aim is getting better.”
Admittedly, you weren’t the best at welding a weapon or firing an arrow until Ivar decided to teach you. You whisper, “I still think I’ll need a few more one-on-one lessons.”
He smirks before turning his attention to his brothers, who seem unfazed by you sitting on his lap, all aside from Sigurd, whose glare is burning into you.
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