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#accompanied by a small whine
toruslvt · 2 months
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 CALL BACK LATER !
[ your ex is on the line ? tell him to fuck off ]
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⋆ toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, satoru gojo + fem!reader
 ⋆ mdni. a lot of cursing, exhibitionism through phone calls. tags for each character; toji: you and him a have a one night stand, protected sex, ( who is this bitch that's so not me ), facetiming, hair pulling ( not in a mean way ). sukuna: established relationship, matting press. satoru: taking pics. pet names used: princess, baby, angel.
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TOJI
five times, it’s been five times since your phone screen started to buzz to life with an incoming call of someone registered as ‘trash’, Toji didn’t care, you were just a good fuck in the backseat of his car after a night of drinks.
the problem was how much you squirmed underneath him each time the dark space was lit up by your phone, currently tossed in the carpet. “fuckin’ hell” he grunts, stopping his movements while his hands were tightly pressed on the small of your back, arching your body for his cock to reach deeper in the tight depts of your pussy, now still and throbbing, almost filling the condom with how much precum his tip drooled.
“can’t fuck you properly if you keep tightening up, princess” Toji huffs, leaving a soft smack on your ass, making the skin jiggle as he bends down, picking your phone up and inspecting the screen with a slight smirk, “boyfriend?”
“ex” you whine, muffled by the leather of his backseat.
the scarred corner of his lip tilts up, just slightly before your phone rings again, although this time, Toji presses on the green button, accepting the face call.
“babe, I'm sorry! i di— who the fuck are you?” the gruff voice of a man resonates through the cramped space.
“listen, man” Toji replies, his voice mocking and slightly slurred, accompanied by the slow buck of his hips against your ass, slowly stinking in the warmth tightness of your cunt that fluttered wildly, from the thrill of being heard... or perhaps his skills were still unmatched.
Toji picks up the pace once again, your moans present and accompanied by the wet sound of skin slapping “the lady here is quite busy, why don’t you call back later.”
“why don’t you fuck off, let me speak to her” your ex exclaims, quite agitated as realization starts to set in his features. a shrug is the only response Toji gives, followed by a soft chuckle, big fingers tightening in your forehead and a couple hair strands before pulling up, your face a complete mess of tears and drool, mascara running down your cheeks for your ex to see through the screen, the older men’s mess created on your trembling body, desperate to cum around his fat cock, his own face coming into the frame as he leans down against your shoulder.
“like I told you, man, she is quite busy right now”
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SUKUNA
a raised brow is the only reaction your phone gets from Sukuna, a hand tightly gripping your hips, mercilessly pounding your pussy while the other holds the device up, scanning it with a slight smirk before tossing it to you.
“answer” is what he says, still smirking to himself as he slides a hand under your thigh, forcing your hips to rise off the bed as he continues to fuck you deep, messily staining your asscheeks with the slick and precum that oozes out of your hole, “c’mon, i’m getting quite irritated to hear that ringtone, answer and end with it” your boyfriend huffs, although there was a hint of mischief underneath, and you never really trusted his sudden ‘kind’ behaviors.
you swallow deeply, attempting to maintain your voice steadily as you pick up your ex’s phone call, his voice immediately coming into your ears, as well as Sukuna’s deep rumble coming from the bottom of his throat.
and you really should have expected it, for Sukuna to bend down, cup your thighs and force you into a mating press, growling in delight at the way your eyes flutter close, voice stutters and pussy clamps around his cock, gripping him like a vice.
it’s a sharp squeal that comes from your lips, one that is quickly quieted down by his hand on your mouth, giving you a knowing look before retreating it, “behave, finish the call, and i’ll let you cum” he rasps, breath hot and fanning over your neck, sending shivers down your spine while your ex’s voice remains unheard and unimportant in the back.
reduced to being patient, you can only exhale shakily, the phone in your hand about to snap from the tight grip on it, perhaps just like your hips from the intensity of Sukuna’s thrusts on you, making your body bounce on the bed by how hard his cocks drives into the depths of your cunt, positively scraping across your g-spot as you felt your brain shortcut each time.
not even paying attention to your ex, you barely mutter a couple ‘mhm’s constantly, not aware of what you’ve agreed or refused to as your phone calls ends with a hurried “thank you, baby!” from your ex, or at least you think the call has ended as your phone drops to the floor, not really caring as your nails dig on your boyfriend’s back, your moans finally coming freely.
“that’s a good girl, now cum all over your boyfriend’s cock” Sukuna growls, putting an extra accent in the word boyfriend, but you didn’t pay attention to it.
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SATORU
it spurs Satoru to know your ex is most definitely hearing your desperate cries of pleasure, it brings him a sense of power, bursts his ego and only urges him into fucking you harder.
it’s not a surprise for you when Satoru goes hard, he often tends to go pussydrunk and pounds you nonstop until himself is panting and growling in pleasure, with sweat dripping down his body and prints of his fingers on your body.
the thing that does surprise you is how vocal he becomes, not by moaning, but by speaking.
“does it feel good, angel?” “you want me to keep going, yeah? right there? oh such a good girl, I can feel your cute pussy clamping on me” he growls, making your whimpers only increase by each raspy word coming out of your boyfriend.
your moans turn into high pitched whines, the rhythmically sound of skin meeting into heavy, wet and erratic slaps of sweat and precum coated skin, and your phone marks 20 minutes ever since he picked up the call for you; you really got a thing for picking pervert boyfriends.
“only I can make you feel this way, hm?” Satoru grins, picking up your phone and closing the phone app, keeping it in the background as he opens the camera, “you’re so wet, can feel you twitching around me” he smirks, biting on the tip of his tongue to conceal a chuckle in delight how you tighten up, thighs shaking and chest heaving.
“come, baby, need to feel you cumming around my cock, make a mess, my love, and let me keep this beautiful pic forever”
it doesn’t take much before your orgasm takes over, and Satoru is quick to follow behind, splattering his thick cum all over your lower belly that manages to get captured by your phone camera.
“so pretty, this will work wonderfully for when the pest decide to continue bothering you”
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sttoru · 13 days
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Trueform sukuna who never kisses his concubines. EXCEPT he only kisses his favorite concubine aka reader 😞🎀
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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. you’re the only one deserving of lord sukuna’s.. direct affection.
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. fluff, suggestive at most. uhh exhibitionism ? kinda but nothing crazy sexual happens, so pda. size difference. reader gets called ‘doll.’
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you’re standing at the entrance of the estate, along with some other concubines. four of them. uraume is there with you as well. you’re all awaiting the one person you’re serving; ryomen sukuna.
it’s silent. the women don’t dare to speak up nor do they dare address you in a menacing manner because of uraume’s presence. you’re thankful for them. you really don’t want to have another petty fight with the concubines. not before your little trip to the village nearby.
you’re all accompanying sukuna to meet up with an infamous clan leader. it’s official business, but you’re needed as a sign of your lord’s high status. you’re basically his trophies that he likes to show off.
“interesting choice of clothing,” sukuna finally shows up. you all bow, showing respect. you look up and only then realise that he’s addressing you. his eyes wander over your figure, “who’s chosen that for you?”
you glance down at your kimono. it’s a beautiful red—suiting the color of sukuna’s eyes. your hair is put up in a neat bun, with a matching crimson hairpin that represented who you belong to.
him.
“my lady-in-waiting, my lord,” you say quietly. you cannot see it, yet can easily feel it; the jealous glares from the four women. they’re dressed in the exact same color red, yet their lord hasn’t paid them any mind. not even a glance.
sukuna just hums in response and makes a mental note of your answer. at least his human servants are good for something. he continues to shamelessly check you out.
“lord sukuna,” uraume interrupts carefully. they bow their head once the king of curses looks their way with a stoic expression, “we’ll have to leave now if we wish to make it there at dawn.”
it’s a gentle reminder, but there’s some urgency in their voice. sukuna rolls his eyes—he may have some official business, but he’s not attending that. not before taking care of other more important stuff first. “silence,” he comments to uraume, heavy steps heading your way afterwards.
your eyes meet his. you blink in confusion, eyelashes fluttering. the sight makes sukuna’s hands twitch at his sides. the way you stare up at him with such naïveté is making him want to destroy it.
you’re unsure what sukuna wants from you. as he orders, everyone stays quiet. you watch as his big hands wrap around your body—your waist engulfed by his warm palms. your eyes widen, but before you can question his actions, your lips are sealed by his.
it’s rare that he does this. kissing sukuna is a privilege. one that no one has ever gotten the honour of having, except for you.
you’ve tasted him. you’ve felt his tongue slither against yours. you’ve had his saliva mix with yours. you’ve had him grunting in your mouth.
you’ve had it all.
no one says a thing. even as your feet are lifted from the ground by the sheer strength of sukuna’s grip on your small body. to reach his lips properly, he has to pick you up and hold you against his chest. it’s his favorite thing to do.
“pretty thing,” sukuna coos with a grin. you can feel his lips curling up menacingly against your mouth. it makes you whine. you instantly shut up once you realise that you’re still outside and surrounded by others—who are basically waiting on you two to be done.
you’re embarrassed to the point that you want nothing more than to hide your face against sukuna’s chest. but he will not let you until he’s had his fill. your tongues swirl around each other passionately, followed by him sucking on your bottom lip and biting it with his sharp fangs.
“my lord,” you whine quietly. you know this’ll end up like that one time in the garden. where he shamelessly took you in front of his servants. you’re unsure if it’s a smart thing to do right now. sukuna has an appointment to go to after all.
his mouth doesn’t stop interlocking with yours. his thick fingers tug at the hairs on the back of your neck, causing you to part your lips in surprise. the king of curses takes his chance and explores your warm little mouth. the one that he’s claimed as his the moment you became his concubine.
you tug at his sleeve as a reminder. sukuna grumbles in annoyance, but he knows you’re right; he should let go. his bottom set of eyes dart over to uraume for a second and upon seeing their expressionless yet determined face, he sighs.
all that official business can suck his dick.
sukuna finally detaches his lips from your now wet and swollen ones. you’re breathing hard, trying to catch your breath. you’re flustered to the point you actually bury your face into sukuna’s chiseled chest. you’re sure this’ll be the only talk around the estate for the upcoming week. you’ll become the victim of some more. . . bullying.
the king of curses notices that you don’t let go of him at all. he grins at the sight of you so desperately clinging onto him. he tries to undo the little mess he made of your once neat hair in the meantime.
“what? want me to carry you all the way there, doll?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, teasing you as per usual. you don’t let go of him since you’re still cooling off. you’ve never really kissed outside of the bedroom. it always happens behind closed doors, so this one time took you by surprise.
you shake your head and plop down on your feet again. “no, my apologies, my lord,” you straighten the material of your kimono and don’t even dare to look at the others. uraume would understand, since they’re used to their lord’s antics, but the concubines will cause big trouble once you’re back home.
sukuna nods in acknowledgment. he still got that evil smirk on his face. his thumb brushes the smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth, cleaning up his mess once again. he’s nice enough to do so today.
“heh.” sukuna lets out an amused chuckle before walking away and ahead of you—the others silently following, as do you. you’re right behind him, on his right side, as he turns his head to yours, “just so y’know, i’m not done with you.”
you know sukuna isn’t. you can easily tell by the way that he didn’t even bother to wipe the lipstick from his own lips. he’s wearing that stain like it’s a medal of sorts. evidence that you’re the only one he’s ever going to show such affection to.
either way; you’re in for one hell of a ride once you’re back from your little business trip.
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fairy-angel222 · 2 months
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step daddy toji fucking you after inspecting your pussy to make sure you aren’t fucking any boys ^^
Step daddy! Toji makes sure his girl is all sweet n innocent f’ him. Putting her on a strict no boys rule that she follows obediently. After all, all she needs is her daddy.
When she comes home from college he smiles widely, placing a sweet kiss to her lips when her arms barely wrap around his torso in a hug.
His lips trail down to your ear with a hum, asking you about your day and school. The man rubbing loving circles on your thigh as you ranted about your day.
“And you didn’t let any boys touch you right?”
“Nuh uh, only you can touch.”
Your words make him smirk, especially as it’s accompanied by a smile and the bat of your lashes.
“Good girl,” he lifted you off his lap, setting you down on your back before letting your legs fall onto his shoulders. “But daddy’s gotta see for himself yeah?”
You nodded, Toji flipping up your skirt to kiss up the inside of your thighs. Pressing his lips lightly to your clit through the fabric of your panties. You shivered at his touch, hips arching into him with a small whimper.
Toji discarded your underwear, groaning at the sight of your folds sticky with your wetness. Using his fingers to spread them apart for strings of slick to still connect both sides together.
His cock twitched, hardening in his pants when he brought his face down to lick a long stripe up your slit. Large hands holding you into him tightly when he began to eat you out. Tongue swirling your sweet taste into his mouth making you moan loudly.
His finger prodded at your hold, a satisfied grin making its way to his face when he concluded that you really were his good girl. So nice n’ tight.
“See d-daddy? All yours— nngfh, all f’ you,” you mewled, Toji bullying his fat fingers into your tight pussy. Curling them up while sucking on your clit.
“Mmm, such a good girl baby. Keeping her so nice n’ wet f’ me.” He breathed, tongue skillfully working your heat until you’re letting out shaky cries, smaller hands gripping his hair tightly.
Your eyes pooled with tears as you’re taken impossibly closer to the edge. Toji speeding up the pace of his fingers while flicking the sensitive bud harshly with his tongue.
Your back arched with the curl of your toes, hips jerking away from his hot mouth with a choked mewl. Feeling your wetness traveling down your ass and onto the couch below you, making a mess between your thighs as he sloppily lapped it all up.
“Nngfh— daddy, so good— feels so good.” You moan, Toji’s grip on your thighs tightening when your legs began to shake. The large man keeping them locked around his head as he buried his face deeper, preventing you from absentmindedly running away from him with a low growl.
“That’s it baby, take it all yeah? Just stay there like a good girl and take it f’me. Don’t run from daddy.” You nodded with a whimper, unable to help the way your body jerked away from his writhing tongue. “S-sorry,” you squeak out, Toji’s eyes darkening when he glanced up at you.
His hand landed meanly onto your clit, cock throbbing at the cracked scream that left your mouth as you cried so adorably. Letting out little babbles in the nearing of your orgasm.
“Daddy— nngh, daddy ‘m so close. So, so, so close. ‘M gonna cum d-daddy— ‘m gonna ahh—” you came with a high pitched cry. Gushing uncontrollably onto his tongue as you were held down firmly. Unable to escape the overstimulation when he continued licking at your clit.
“So fucking sweet, gonna stuff that pretty pussy so full of my cock. Deserves it for staying so pure for her daddy.”
Your pussy clenched at his words. Toji flipping you onto your hands on knees, cock freed from its confines as your needy pussy dripped messily. The pink heart shaped butt plug sat snug inside you as you whined. “P-please daddy— put it in.” Moving your supple hips from side to side in want.
“You’re so greedy baby, want daddy’s cock that badly huh? I see you even kept my gift in all day.” he hummed, spreading your soft ass in admiration of the toy’s shimmer under the light. Toji grabbed hold of the end, slowly twisting it out of you before thrusting it back in. The sensation pulling a string of breathy moans past your lips as your hands trembled underneath you.
“P-please.. need it so bad.”
“Your wish is my command baby.” Toji’s cock rubbed up and down your soaked folds. Prodding at the small hole with a groan, hands finding their way onto your hips when he bottomed out inside you. Your tight pussy stretching to accommodate his girth with a loud mewl. Feeling his hips land flush against the underside of your thighs.
Toji’s hips wasted no time in slamming into you, his hand trailing up the deep arch of your back before twisting into your hair. Pulling you up against him with a grunt. “Shit baby, so fucking snug f’ daddy. Pussy’s gripping me like she needs me— doesn’t want to ever let me go isn’t that right?”
You nodded with heavy breaths, glassy eyes blurring your vision as you moaned loudly. The sound of Toji’s skin on yours echoing throughout the room lewdy. “D-daddyy— ahh, feels son perfect. Love your cock so.. haah— so much,” your voice went up a pitch, Toji’s tip poking at your g spot as his cock glided against slippery walls.
His hand snaked around your neck, squeezing the sides tightly as he rammed up into you, fucking his cock deep into you till it bulged lightly against the skin of your belly.
“My good girl, taking daddy’s cock so well,” he praised, tightening his grip on your neck before kissing your cheek softly, allowing your head to fall back onto his shoulder as his cock pierced your insides deep. “C’mon baby, tell me. Who owns this pretty pussy?”
“Y-you. You do daddy.”
“Hmm, and who’s allowed to touch you here baby. Allowed to fuck you like this.”
“You. Only y-you— ahhh.” Your body trembled as you neared your high, Toji’s breath hot on your skin as his breathing sped up. “And should my baby ever let some dirty boy touch my pussy?”
“N-no, she shouldn’t. And, nngh— she won’t. I belong to y-you.”
“Good.” He bent you back down, broad chest still flush against your back when he groaned. The position allowing him to rock your body at whatever speed he liked, cock pressing against the tear shaped plug with each thrust.
You let out a whiny cry, his cock drenched in your slick as he rolled his hips into you. “Daddy, ‘m close. G-gonna cum.”
“Gonna make a mess f’ me just like daddy taught you to?”
“Uh huh, ‘m always so messy f’ you,” you let a string of cry-like moans drip from your tongue, teary eyes rolling back with the shake of your body. Lips parted in a broken sob of pleasure as you fell apart.
“That’s it baby. There we fucking go- look so damn pretty like this.” He grinned widely when you babbled dumbly, chest heaving in pants as you squirted onto his cock. Drenching his thighs in the juices of your sopping pussy.
“F-fuck,” Toji cursed, thrusts getting sloppy as he slowed his pace. Lodging his cock completely inside you as he twitched within your walls. “Gonna fill you up real nice.” He dragged out, cum eventually pumping into you in thick spurts, painting your insides in the sticky white substance.
He pulled out of you, seed seeping out of your pussy when you clenched at the new found emptiness. Toji’s cock leaving a small gape as your hole fluttered in longing for him to come back in.
You sighed in content, Toji kissing you gently with a smirk. “Did so well baby.” Running his thumb along your plump bottom lip, “how about daddy run you a bath so we can sit n’ relax together hmm?”
You nodded in agreement, burying your face into his chest with a hum. “Sounds.. nice.” Your tired eyes struggling to stay open when a small smile graced your face. “Love you daddy.”
“Love you too sweet girl.”
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tender-rosiey · 4 months
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how would modern day sukuna be like a father? :o
nerves — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: no curses au, lovelies! thank you for being so patient MWUAH and of course, merry christmas to everyone who celebrates it!
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when one thinks of sukuna, one thinks of a broad muscular man covered in tattoos with a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue punching the hell out of anyone.
you never think of the same man carrying a pink glittery bag and his own little pretty princess.
“do you have your lunch box?”
“yup!”
he quirks an eyebrow, “you sure?”
your daughter nods excitedly before looking over her dad’s shoulder. she grins when she finally sees you and excitedly calls you over, “mama! ‘morning!”
a smile instantly appears you on your face as you make your way towards your little sweetheart, “good morning, baby!”
you take her into your arms—ignoring your husband—and you kiss her cheek, “you excited for your first day of school?”
“mhm!” she gasped suddenly, “mama, look at my hair! papa made it for me!” she giggles, proudly showing off her ponytail.
you look with a knowing look and a small smile at your husband.
sukuna frowns and looks away, “it was easy anyway,” he then glares at you, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”
you giggle and pad your way towards him, resting your arm on his shoulder and gently kissing his lips, “it’s a really cute deal, though.”
you lightly bounce your daughter in your other arm, “right, d/n?”
“yeah! papa is the best!” she cheers, hugging him tightly.
your husband groans, but—nonetheless—his arms are wrapped around you two, “you two are such drama queens.”
he leans slightly, mouth near your ear as he whispers, “you better give me a proper fucking kiss when we drop the brat off.”
you gasp lightly and smack his shoulder, “watch your language!” you watch him scrunch his face—most likely about to sass you—so you press a quick kiss to your daughter’s cheek then your husband’s.
you then push them through the door with a nervous smile, “okay, bye! have a great time and don’t forget that mama loves you!”
“I love you too, mama!”
of course, you would’ve loved to accompany your daughter to school, especially on her first day, but the darn office just happened to call for you right now.
sukuna knows that, and so does your cute daughter, so there is a reason why they were both so reluctant to leave.
anyway, back to the present.
your husband’s frown is still evident as he is robbed yet again from a ‘proper’ kiss. he picks your daughter up easily and then throws her in the car.
she, as always, finds it funny and starts laughing her little butt off. sukuna rolls his eyes, and gets into the car himself.
he puts on the playlist that your daughter made herself, and finally starts the car. the ride is quiet, if you don’t count the singing and screaming of your daughter.
of course, sukuna can’t do anything about it—even if he knows that he doesn’t want her to stop in the first place.
the school isn’t that far away anyway, so they reach it in no time. your husband skilfully parks in front of the gate and takes his seatbelt off.
he doesn’t hear hurried unbuckling of a belt or nonstop squealing and fidgeting, so he looks at his daughter, “what’s up?”
she fidgets with the hem of her shirt then speaks up, softly, “I am—scared.”
he furrows his eyebrow, turning his entire body towards her, “huh? why? you were so excited with your mom earlier and you were screaming my ear off about it yesterday.”
“I know,” she murmurs then frowns, “…but what if people don’t like me?”
sukuna is stunned for a moment. he isn’t the one to normally deal with your daughter whenever she needed deep or meaningful emotional advice.
that was what you did, especially since you are able to read your daughter pretty well.
but he tries his best cause he would be damned if he isn’t the best father. his hand is placed on her head, albeit a bit roughly.
she whines, “papa, my hair!”
he takes a moment, “I…” he starts then quietens down for a second, and even then, you’re daughter is looking intently at him.
he then looks at her again, “they will love you. you’re a good kid."
your daughter’s eyes widen at her dad’s unfiltered compliment. she beams, quickly unbuckling her belt and throwing herself into his arms.
her smile is so wide it almost hurts her, but her heart feels so full because of her dad’s praise that she couldn’t care about anything other than him.
he slowly starts patting her head, “and if someone bothers you, I will just beat them up.”
“mama said no violence!” your daughter scolds and almost on cue, your face appears on the screen: you’re calling!
looks like you managed to squeeze in some time to check up on her. your daughter swiftly presses on answer and chirps, “hi mama!”
“hi baby! why are you not in school yet?” you question, eyes darting towards your husband, questioning.
“papa wanted to get some food first, so we just arrived!”
sukuna is—internally—flabbergasted. this liar. he is about to interject, but then he ponders about it for a moment: maybe she doesn’t want you to see her hesitant about the whole school thing.
maybe she wants to appear strong—with no weak points—in front of her mother. then he breathes out a chuckle, at least she takes after him in something.
“sukuna! she could’ve been late!” you huff then sigh, “good thing that you guys moved early anyway.”
your eyes then focus on your daughter, “how’re you feeling?”
“excited!”
“any nerves or anything?” you ask knowingly, but she shakes her head.
she hugs sukuna tighter, “I was a little nervous, but papa made me feel better!”
you grin, “did he now?”
he notices the teasing glint behind your eyes and looks away to avoid your gaze. your daughter giggles at her dad’s behaviour, and so do you.
and your husband has never felt more teamed up on than now. she hears the bell rings, “oh! I gotta go now!”
“bye papa!” she kisses her dad’s cheek, “bye mama!” then kisses the phone’s screen. you blow her a kiss back, and she dashes out of the car, ready to start her day.
even while walking towards the building, she turns again to her dad and waves at him happily.
sukuna nods and she grins, switching her focus back on the school. his focus is on her intently, until you speak up, “I am proud of you.”
his gaze snaps to you, expecting a teasing smirk, but instead you’re smiling warmly at him. his heart contracts in a way that makes him feel weird, and he can’t find it in him to give you a snarky reply.
he groans, “she is my daughter as much as she is yours, y’know.”
you hum, “of course, she is,” he hears rustling on the other line, so he assumes you’re checking some papers before turning to him again, “she takes after you in more ways than one.”
“yeah, I noticed,” he says quietly, and you laugh.
he notices from the corner of his eyes his daughter laughing excitedly with a bunch of others girls, and he lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.
you tap on your desk a little, “you nervous?”
“if someone hurts her, I will kill them.”
“I figured."
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
Text
twinkle twinkle little star
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only, smut, dom/sub undertones, fluffy <3, reader is called kid and stupid, clit rubbing
“rafeyyy.” you whine, squirming underneath the thin blanket covering the two of your bodies.
“baby.” rafe grunts out, his voice deep with what he wishes was sleep. “go to bed.”
“i can't! im trying really!” you complain. 
rafe sighs, tugging you closer, back into his grip that you wiggled away from trying to find a comfortable position.
“just close your eyes, kid.” 
you try. you really do. you shut your eyes, pray for your body to relax, but to no avail as you squirm again, causing rafe to sigh.
“alright. hold on.” he moves, sitting himself up against the headboards, arms open as you crawl into his lap, letting him cradle you in his big arms.
“this better you big baby?” he coos, rocking you softly from side to side, letting out a small groan as your bum moves against his lap.
“mhm.” you nod, resting your head against rafes chest. you close your eyes, sleep is so close, but yet when rafe tries to move you back so he can lay down, your eyes blink open.
“fuck, you're still not asleep?” rafe groans.
“im sorry!” you whine. “im trying, really. just can’t.”
“alright, shit.” rafe moves your body for you, laying your head into the crook between his chest and shoulder, arm caging your body close.
his free hand moves to your chest, massaging your tits through your silk nightgown.
you let out a low moan, eyes fluttering closed as rafe switches back and forth between your breasts, rubbing and massaging them gently enough to allow it to be relaxing instead of just turning you on.
“stupid baby, didn't even realize she couldn't sleep just because she was horny.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead. your eyelashes flutter open, looking up at rafe.
“it's okay, kiddo.” he says. “im gonna take care of you.”
his hand moves lower to dive between your thighs, smirking to himself when he feels your flimsy underwear. he has a habit of ripping them off whenever he wants access to you, so you've given up on buying high quality material just for it to be destroyed.
“gonna rub your little cunnie for you, mkay?” rafe makes sure you nod.
his finger strokes over your underwear, right through your center. you try not to squirm around, opening your legs up slightly to give rafe more access. he presses a kiss to your head when you spread your thighs, muttering out a quiet affirmation.
“thats my good girl.”
“i-”
“shh.” rafe pets his finger over your clit before dipping lower, feeling how the wet spot has formed on your underwear.
rafe pushes your underwear to the side, unable to restrict himself any longer from feeling your bare skin. he lets out a hum of approval as he moves his fingertip through your slick.
he continues to hum, soft familiar melodies. rafe is no singer, but if he was he'd be cooing you gentle lullabies as he continues to gently rock you, two fingers now gliding through your folds.
“ohhh, thats it.” rafe hums as your eyes close, unable to keep them open any longer. you're sure to be out as soon as his fingers bring you to orgasm.
he moves up to your clit, wanting to get you off quickly so he can get to sleep himself.
“big day tomorrow, bunny.” he presses more kisses to your forehead and hairline. “gonna take you shopping.”
if this was the first you'd heard of the news, you'd certainly be wide awake and excited, but rafe has been promising you a whole day just the two of you for a while now. shopping, dinner, walk on the beach, anything you decide.
“mmm love you.” you whisper as rafe rubs his two fingers over your clit, your thighs squeezing in closer to his hand as your high builds.
“love you too baby. cum for me then we can get some sleep, yeah?” rafe resumes his humming with twinkle twinkle little star.
you let out soft mewls and moans that are the perfect accompaniment to his song, rafe playing you like an instrument with his fingers on your clit.
you don't need to tell him that you're close, you're certain he knows from the rush of wetness, the way your clit pulses as he rubs faster until your entire body stiffens, then your back arches as you let out a moan.
rafe rubs you through your orgasm until you slump in his arms, high replaced by pure exhaustion, falling asleep before rafe even lays you back down.
“mmm, that's my girl.” rafe kisses your head once more as he readjusts you in bed, eyes sliding closed now that you're content and asleep in his arms.
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backwzzds · 6 months
Note
can we talk about how konig would be someone who’s quiet when he gets jealous…then when y’all get home he js absolutely goes HAMMMM….
the way i got so excited to write this…it’s actually way longer than i intended but idgaf! part 2 soon 😏
NO BC YOU LITERALLY WOULDNT GET HOW HE’D BE SO QUIET LIKE ???
“papa, i don’t understand what i did wrong,” you’d frown at your man with an annoyed whine. könig, who was a whooping 6’10 would only give you a heavy grunt in response. you’d be on the way back to his car from the mall, dozens of your victoria’s secret and H&M bags held in his visibly large hand. the moment könig reached before you (with help of his tree-like long legs anyway), he opened the door for you, the balaclava on his face making his features ten times harder.
no matter how mad the big bear was at you—or more so, what you happened to get yourself involved in—he’d never disrespect you. anything other than sexually, at least. stepping on the custom made step for your smaller figure, you slide into the huge seat of his completely blacked out bmw suv, allowing him to shut the door behind you. you nearly jump at the visible shake of the car beneath your bottom.
you play with your curls as könig carefully sets your bags on the floor behind your seat. because his was set all the way back to accommodate for his long legs, your seat had the better amount of space for your things. when könig finally got back in the car, he immediately started it, causing the monsterous growl of his deleted muffler to come alive.
and he wouldn’t even break a sweat at you !!! you’re over here going over all your actions for the day, step by step, and all könig could think through his mind was what positions he was gonna force you in when you two got back home.
the sound of könig’s car matched the energy that was coursing through his veins. he know you didn’t do anything wrong; not intentionally at least. but the selfish ass part of him wanted nothing more than for your pretty little ass to sit in the passenger’s seat, overthinking on what the fuck you possibly could have done to rile him up this much.
the ride home is everlastingly silent as the small of your voice breaks the thick tension, “baby,” you don’t know how to further articulate your words. “i know you’re mad at me. i wanna fix it, but i can’t it you won’t talk to me. and you’ve been dead ass silent since we been in the mall.”
könig keeps his cool, though. he knew his silence was practically eating at you alive, shaming you with guilt for something you didn’t even intentionally mean to do. but with the way your pretty body sits in the black skims dress you’re in, accompanied by your black and white dunks—his eyes could practically frame your nipples right through the see through fabric, and he was sure that fucking doorman at victoria’s secret could have as well.
you keep talking. “was it the dude at VS? i swear, i made it very known that you were my man and—“ your words are endless blabber to him as the disgusting and pervasive thoughts cloud könig’s mind.
he looks so sexy in his balaclava, protecting his face from the harsh upcoming winter temperatures. he’s sported in an all black outfit, helplessly matching yours. anyone who saw you two together would automatically know that was your man. i mean duh, he walks around with his hand on your ass protectively 99% of the time.
when you get the sense that the brute isn’t listening to a fucking word you’re saying, you let out a frustrated sigh and turn your body away from him. but the sudden placement of a large hand on your knee takes you by surprise as you eye the man who’s ice blue eyes refuse to falter from the darkening road before you.
the moment könig pulls up in the driveway of your shared home, you can’t help but twiddle with the polish on your acrylics. anxiousness is bouncing off you, and könig could tell. you turn your head and open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off for the first time that night.
“go inside.” könig’s voice is very low, but you don’t miss the command in it. there’s no emotion behind the dark eyes of his balaclava. usually you could decipher exactly what and how he was feeling, but in the moment—
“kö—“ your boyfriend’s snow blue eyes harden at your talk back. with softer features, you whisper, “will you be inside?”
“soon. need to make a call first,” you watch him pull out a fresh cigar pack. “be ready for me when i get in.” you open your mouth to talk back again, but wire it shut when könig lovingly grabs your face. leaning in so the pink of his lips ghost over your full brown ones, he whispers, “now, mama. i won’t ask again. can you listen to that one thing for me?”
with a small gulp, you give him pretty doe eyes, feeling between your legs tingle at his masculinity radiating onto you. in the most confident voice you could muster up, you nod your pretty head at him. “yes daddy.”
könig gives you a nod of approval and runs his hand along the curve of your ass. “good girl. go on, liebling.”
you exit the huge car, already getting idea of what was to come when könig came back inside. with a heavy heart, you head upstairs to your room and slowly begin undressing, hoping that the slower you went, the more your punishment would be delayed.
your hopes were proven to be false the minute you were completely naked and turned around to see könig leaning against the threshold of the door, silently watching you.
you jump in fear at the sudden sight in front of you, but feel your heart beat calm down when könig strolled over to you. naturally, your head tilted backward as a way to get a full view of his face. his balaclava remained on, so you knew he was still upset about the events from earlier.
könig takes his large hand and rests it on your cheek, giving it a comforting rub. “you know i love you and respect you more than anything on this earth, right?” the brown of your skin instantly heat up at his words as you slowly nod your head at his sudden expression, unsure of where he was going with his words. könig’s lips can’t help but lightly turn upward into a small smile. you had no idea what was gonna come.
“good. because for today, libeling, i’m gonna fuck you like you mean absolutely nothing to me.”
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euphoricfilter · 7 months
Text
.  . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober day 8
[day eight: size kink]
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pairing: jungkook x f. reader
warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, he’s hung okay? whatever you’re thinking make it bigger— he has a fat cock, belly bulge
notes: smut straight under the cut!! you’ll never guess what song i was listening to while writing this, i just want you guys to know that the music i write to, never fits the vibe of the story
kinktober masterlist
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
“Gonna ruin you” Jungkook murmurs, hand wrapped around his cock.
He pushes your legs a little higher up his shoulders, tongue running over his bottom lip when he watches your cunt clench around nothing. It was almost a feral need that consumed him in moments like these, rough hand fisting his cock, thick cockhead ready to spear you open. Precum leaking down his length, raw need to watch him mould your cunt for his cock only.
You watch down the length of your body as he presses the tip of his cock over your entrance, thumb pressing under the head, sinking the first inch of his length into you.
Your pussy clenches around the mushroom head, Jungkook’s thumb pressing over your clit to try and help loosen you up a bit.
“Such a small pussy” he braces a hand beside your head, body caging you beneath him as he ruts another inch into you.
You swallow down a moan, fingers tugging at the sheets below you.
Jungkook watches as his cock splits you open, pussy swallowing down everything he has to offer. Clenching ever so deliciously around him. His cock is shiny when he pulls back to his cockhead, watching you stretch around the widest part of him before he presses back into you, feeding you each agonizing inch so slowly you start to rut your hips upwards.
“Hold on baby” his hands spread over your hips, sinking into your flesh, “Be a good little thing and take what I give you… yeah?” he presses a wet kiss to your jaw.
A chesty laugh claws up his throat when he feels you clench at his words, pitiful whimper slipping off your tongue when he snaps his hips forward. Thick cock pressing against your sweet spot.
“Shit—Jungkook” you whine when he leans down a little, your legs still hooked over his shoulder pulling the bottom half of your body off the bed.
“Yeah? You like that?” he laughs, “Like me moulding your little pussy for my cock, and my cock only?”
You nod, hand splaying over your stomach when he sinks the rest of his length inside of you. Barely letting you feel all of him before he’s pulling his hips backwards, snapping forward, desperate to sink himself back inside of you.
Your back arches, wet squelch accompanying a moan as he starts to thrust into you, erratic. His eyes stay trained om where the both of you connect, base of his cock messy with your creamy arousal, pussy split, likely gaping if he slipped out of you.
“Fuck—that’s it baby” he groans, finding his rhythm, angling his hips where he knows he’s pressing against all the little spots that you love.
Your hand slips down your stomach, mouth falling open in a moan when you feel it.
“Jungkook” you moan, his name fogging your mind, “can feel you here” you slip one of his hands from your hip, pressing it over your stomach.
His hand presses down, deep rumble of a moan catching in his throat when he feels himself inside of you. His hand slips over your mound, both your eyes stuck on your stomach as you watch him beneath your skin; buldge of his cock pressing from within you.
“Shit” you cry, hips stuttering upwards.
“Fuck, you really are small, aren’t you, baby” his hand slips over your stomach, pressing down on the bulge.
He moans when he feels you constrict around him, cock twitching as he staves off his own orgasm when he can feel his hand pressing down on his cock.
“So small my cock is all the way in your tummy” it comes out as a breathless laugh, your mind barely processing what he was saying as you slip headfirst into your orgasm.
Barely able to warn him, words entirely broken, more a mantra of his name. Though Jungkook seems to know, pace slowing as he snaps his hips harder into you, cockhead pressing against your sweet spot, onslaught of pleasure bringing you over the edge.
Your cum coats his cock, world turning white for a moment before you get a glimpse of Jungkook’s body curled over your own. His eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as your cunt continues to pulse around him, slowly inching towards the bubbly sort of overstimulation that would no doubt send you reeling into a second orgasm.
You feel his cock twitch between your walls, hips losing their rhythm, thrusts turning sloppy as he nears his own release. His eyes slip open, holding himself up by one arm as he presses his hand over your stomach again. A long drawn moan falls past his lips as he cums, thought of his release coating so far into your cunt pulling another wave of cum out of him.
He barely ruts into you, hips pressed against your thighs as you clench around him, milking everything out of his spent cock. His eyes stay trained on the bulge of your stomach, thumb brushing over where he assumes his cockhead to be.
“Such a good girl, letting me ruin your insides” he leans down, pressing a kiss to your sweat tacky skin, “little pussy all mine, so greedy swallowing my cock”
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anantaru · 28 days
Note
thinking about boxer!wriothesley who always pays for your nails to get done bc he likes to see your pretty manicured hands wrapped around his cock after he wins his match 💅🏼 I’ve been suffering from wrio brain rot lately 🥴
⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ cw. handjob & cock kisses, boxer! wriothesley, petname: doll & baby, cumming in your mouth, established relationship // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡ fem! reader
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"let me look at them baby, show ‘em," a sinning shine materializes on wriothesley's pupils, accompanied by a small grunt in his throat— and his tousled hair was reflective of the light in the empty store room, glinting at his current state.
he was still high off the adrenaline from his fight, sweaty and still trying to regulate his breathing. yet most of the damage was shown by his knuckles, although they were covered by white bandages, the irritated flesh peaks through the material to expose a scarlet red thudding on his skin.
you gently take his hands into yours before kissing his knuckles, holding him close.
a grunt leaves his throat at the sensual sight before your body settles between his muscular thighs, his hands guiding you, "you like the color i picked out?" a cheeky grin traces the outlines of your face as you look up at his focused gaze.
being bold, you sweep your pretty nails towards his bulge, "see, they're even a little sharp, i might scratch you on accident," you tease and tauntingly glide the sharp edges of your nails over his concealed erection, featherlight, and leaning down to kiss him through his pants.
wriothesley was panting harshly as he looks down at you, his facial profile holding on to mischief. he sighs, watching eagerly how you're playing around with his belt as he aids you in taking off his pants, "yeah, baby," he hums sweetly, cock twitching at the hopping click of his belt springing free, "you're so fucking hot, doll, the color looks gorgeous on you,"
wriothesley cannot stop himself from complimenting you in every way imaginable when he's on the brink of choking at the painful sensation on his cock, his breath erratic as you kiss his ache away with your plush lips granting him a break.
the tip of his cock was peaking through the thin material of his boxers as wriothesley casts his underwear down to leave it piled up around his knees before wrapping his rough palm around himself, squeezing at the base, "you wanna show me the color better?" he winks, stroking his stiffened cock and whines out your name.
"yeah, please let me do it," you pout briefly as he lightly smears his tip over your mouth to bump it against your bottom lip, "easy now," he coos, "let me play with it first," as he hurries it over your plush lips— a sheen lace of lipgloss connecting to his cock and smearing a trail of sticky liquid behind.
the foul sight of it almost made him cream on the spot, and how your fingers were now getting bolder, fluttering over the rills of his sore muscles and only adding to the desire to feel your hand clamp around him.
and it's the reality he's so grateful for when your hand pulls his own away, so you could wrap your palm around his cock, taking over, "did you hear me cheer for you today?" you start with slow strokes, yet he's choking on a string of groans just by looking at you doing it for him, "i wanted to support you so badly," you slope your body forward to touch his tip with your mouth, flipping it left and right over your lips before kissing the oozing head.
"fuck, you're gonna make me cum like that," wriothesley chokes out, placing his fist against his mouth as he bites into it, muffling his erratic groans, "fuck— fuck... fuck doll," his voice cracks as you go on, squeezing him at the base and working him through a nice orgasm that would rip through him in a heart beat.
your lips kiss over his shaft and mess him up, not only with his own milky pre oozing from the slit, but your sparkly lipgloss sticking over the skin so lusting, yes, it felt so dirty and your hand was drenched in all kinds of fluids now— which well, it was disgusting, but in the most pleasurable way imaginable.
wriothesley rasps into his chest, "fuck... i'm gonna cum, ‘gonna cum doll," as he pulls his head back and scrunches his eyes shut. he spasms around your hand shifting into a faster, more efficient tempo as you jerk him off, trying harder and harder to gloss over every inch of his length.
"you wanna cum in my mouth?" the simple imagery you laid out after asking him almost took all the willpower inside of his nerves and body to not climax and ruin it, "yeah.. please— please.." he holds against your shoulder as you part your jaw and slide him inside your warm heat.
how your throat flexes around his tip and your tongue presses into the underside of his cock was sensational— the affectivity of your hot mouth made his eyes water, fully leaning into you as he spills himself with a loud groan and a chant of your name huffed out desperately.
the soreness in your throat was more prominent than ever but was immediately smothered by a warm, sticky load of his seed as you're hiccuping on the wave of cum entering your mouth.
"fuck, that's good, yeah..." he moans, "don't swallow it, show me instead," as he commands shamelessly, a rough palm shortly after cupping your cheek as you pull him off your mouth.
you drag your tongue out to present your boyfriend a wickedly beautiful look of his milky cum slithering all from your tongue towards the tip of the wet muscle, a small droplet falling to the ground as he smirks mischievously;
"now, swallow."
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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tacticalprincess · 1 month
Text
a/n i need him in ways that wouldve gotten me lobotomized in the 50s…
himbo!könig wanted your first time together to be special. after all the months of work he put in getting you to take him seriously, all of his dumb attempts at courting you, he wasn’t going to fumble his chances with you now.
he’s usually pretty confident in himself, almost to the point of delusion, but something about you makes him so nervous, and he can’t wrap his head around someone like you genuinely being interested in a goofy guy like him :( that’s why he misses all of the opportunities you give him to fuck you, always taking your hints and attempts at seducing him the wrong way…
“it’s so hot in here, köni.” “are you getting sick, liebchen? should i turn the air on?” “no, i think i’m wearing too many clothes…” “…you don’t look overdressed to me.”
at some point you start to question if he actually does want you in that way. but the way even the slightest touch from you has him popping boners is enough to shake you out of those doubts. everything about you seems to turn him on. he’s convinced you were plucked straight from his wettest dreams, and he can’t stand to be in close proximity to you for too long without being affected. but he thinks he hides it well enough— always covering the proof of his arousal with a subtle pillow over his lap whenever you’re around.
of course he wants to make the move, but he wants to do it properly. it happens the night he takes you to a small town carnival. he planned on kissing you on top of the ferris wheel, but he unfortunately surpassed the weight limit. instead he holds your hand on the rollercoasters and you feed each other fair food. he insists on stopping at every game until he’s won you too many stuffed animals for you to carry and eventually you’re forced to leave.
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he’s shaking in his boots by the time you get back to his place, tripping over the mess on his floor and stumbling over his words. sensing his hesitancy, you’re the one to lead him to his room, your hand wrapped around his large finger.
“are you sure, maus? we don’t have to, i have DVDs–”
“shut up and fuck me, köni.” you huff, already fully naked and exposed on his bed. “please.”
he plans to take it slow, he really does. getting the chance to please you, to be let inside your hot body for the first time, is a privilege he doesn’t take lightly. he wants you both to savor it, he has to make it good for you :(
instead, he absolutely loses himself the moment his fat, pulsing cock sinks into your gummy cunt. he goes full caveman, your headboard slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts for all your poor neighbors to hear :( all thoughts leave him when he’s sheathed inside of you except for how perfect your sopping pussy feels around him, borderline animalistic as he uses your smaller body as a fleshlight. the sounds of his heavy balls smacking against your ass accompanied by your pretty whines and moans only spur him on.
he fucks you in missionary so it’s more intimate, but there’s nothing romantic about the way he’s mounting you. you thank god for making you flexible as he’s pushing your knees up to your ears, seemingly trying to push his cock deeper than your small cunny has room for, stretching your poor cunt past its limit. you swear you can feel him all the way in your stomach, mushroom tip bruising your cervix with each thrust.
you don’t even notice you’re sobbing until he does. “are you okay, liebe? does it hurt?” he asks through heavy pants. “fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t think i can stop myself, you just— you feel so fucking good. you’re so… warm… squeezing me so tight. just- just hang in there for me, ja?”
your brain can’t work for long enough to form words, rough thrusts drawing nothing but high pitched staccato “uh-uh-uh”’s from your throat. you’re drunk on the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, the way his heavy body squishes yours, barricading you in so you’re completely engulfed by him. his hairy stomach ruts against your sensitive, puffy clitty until you’re clenching around him, your sudden orgasm draining the cum out of his tight balls. “so good. fuck, you’re so perfect. best pussy i’ve ever felt.” he fucks you through the high, mindlessly overstimulating you both until you have to physically push him off of you.
you might’ve created a monster…
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saetoru · 8 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MESSY — GETO SUGURU.
contents. gn! reader, minors do not interact, hand + blowjobs, suguru manspreading bc he’s a whore, reader is teasing (and suguru shuts it down LOL), cum swallowing, not proof read i am too lazy
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when suguru sits like that—legs spread out and arm resting against the back of the couch, you wonder for a moment if something is wrong with you.
how does someone simply sitting get you this riled up?
suguru seems to know what he’s doing too, doesn’t even blink when you boldly drop to your knees between his legs, doesn’t even question it when your fingers hook under the waistband of his pants and boxers as you look up at him pleadingly.
he grins, spreads his legs impossibly wider, lifts his hips up a bit so you can tug his pants down his hips and pool at his ankles. he’s half hard already—what a jerk, you think. he knows what he’s doing, always does. always knows how to make you give him what he wants willingly, without him even asking. in fact, he’s so good at getting what he wants, he convinces you it’s what you want too.
and right now, you really fucking want to taste his cock.
“this is a nice surprise,” he hums, “not that i’m complaining.”
“yeah,” you snort, running your thumb along his slit and collecting that small bead of pre cum that leaks from the tip, “you’re very clearly not complaining.”
he doesn’t even attempt to look embarrassed—just flashes you that grin accompanied by that chuckle all while he keeps an arm slung over the back of the couch. he looks good. it’s aggravating. it’s rewarding. it’s magnetizing. it’s everything all at once.
and fuck—you really, really need his cock in your mouth.
“mm, feels good, baby,” he sighs lowly when your hand smears the sticky pre cum along his hardened length, stroking slowly as his head falls back.
it’s blissed out, the look on his face. you’re barely even doing anything, too. you think for a moment that suguru might just have wanted this for a while now, that he had you trekking into the lion’s den without even so much as a plan.
all he had to do was sit, spread his legs a little, and exist as he is. the rest handles itself.
you decide in a moment that for once, suguru will have to ask—will have to tell you what he wants. you’ll make him, if you have to.
“yeah?” you whisper, leaning in and kissing his tip softly.
he twitches at that, in his cock and in his thigh and even in his upper body. it’s like the tingle that press of your lips leaves shoots up his spine into every nerve of his body. his breath hitches as he nods, closing his eyes and groaning when your tongue traces along the underside of his cock, right along that thick vein.
“yeah,” he breathes, the rise and fall of his chest a little more erratic now, “yeah that’s good. need more, though.”
“but suguru,” you hum, kissing his inner thigh. he bites back a whine when you leave his throbbing hard-on unattended, choosing to suck on the sensitive skin along his thighs instead. “see, you didn’t ask me to do this did you?” you blink up at him sweetly, watching as he gulps.
“no,” he grunts, clenching his jaw when your fingers traces his heavy balls, circling around them before cupping them softly. he moans as soon as you apply the slightest bit of pressure.
“exactly,” you say, “so that means i’m offering. you’re supposed to take what i give and be grateful.”
he doesn’t like that—the twitch of his eyebrows tells you that much. he looks down at you with a frown and his mouth opens to protest—but you have his dick in your reach, so he doesn’t get very far before you squeeze around the thick girth and make his head fall back down with a groan.
“f-fuck,” he gasps, thighs twitching as you toy with the tip, wrapping your fist around it as you squeeze. “f-fuck, need more, baby. c’mon,” he pleads.
“say please, sugu,” you bat your lashes. he raises his head and looks at you incredulously—you squeeze tighter around his tip, almost until it’s painful before he whimpers softly.
“fuck—kay, fine,” he grits, “please, baby?”
“please what?”
“are you seriously asking me what—ngh, sh-shit,” he rasps, cutting himself off as he bites his lip when you sink your teeth into his flesh again, marking that beautiful, flawless skin along his inner thighs with proof that he’s yours.
“tell me what you want, suguru,” you hum, rubbing his tense thigh soothingly, “humor me.”
“alright then,” he says lowly—the room is hot, the beads of sweat in his eyebrows gives it away. he takes his shirt off, pulling it over his head and tossing it somewhere before he’s laying his head back against the couch. “i want you to fuck me with your pretty little mouth, and i want you to make me cum. think you can do that, or am i gonna have to use that mouth myself?”
it’s like a challenge, the way he asks you. he’s not the slightest bit ashamed of his request, but you can feel heat rushing to your cheeks.
you should’ve known by now—what suguru wants, he always gets. whether he asks or not is entirely up to him. he decides to indulge you this time, it seems.
but next time, he might not be so generous.
“i always make you cum,” you huff. he chuckles—it’s that low, baritone ring that you love so much, sending a dull ache between your own legs.
“that’s true,” he agrees, setting a hand on your head. “you do always make me cum. what a sweet thing,” he hums, “why don’t you do it one more time?”
so you do. you wrap your lips around his flushed tip, swirling your tongue and gliding through his slit before taking him in your mouth until the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. he moans, hand on your head pushing you down just a slight bit more.
you can take more—you always take more.
you bob your head, letting your tongue press over that vein again as you fuck him with your mouth. it’s warm, it’s wet, it’s perfect and it’s all you—only you can ever make him feel this good.
he’s panting now, strings of broken curses and soft sighs of your name leaving his lips like they’ve been waiting for the chance to come out. his forehead is glistening with sweat, the messy clump of bangs sticking to his skin as he scrunches up his eyes and lets his mouth part for a low, drawn out groan.
“th-that’s it, baby,” he says through sharp gasps, “like that. feels so good when you do that.”
your hand wraps around the base of his cock, pumping what you can’t fit in your mouth, moving to his balls every now and then to fondle them as he snaps his hips up and ruts into your mouth. your lips glisten with a mix of his pre cum and your spit, and suguru thinks for a moment, in that split second that he opens his eyes and looks at you, that he’d give anything to kiss that messy little mouth of yours as you take him so well.
“should see yourself,” he mutters, “lookin’ so perfect for me. so messy.”
his knuckles are white, gripping the cushion of the couch tightly as he feels himself near closer and closer to falling off the edge, closer and closer to cumming right down your throat where he belongs.
“can’t even sit in peace,” he chuckles through breathy pants, “you’re jumping me every chance you get.”
you glare up at him, cupping his balls and squeezing tightly in response and making him gasp as his hips buck upwards, a low moan falling from that talkative mouth of his before you feel his cock twitch.
he’s close, so you bob your head over his length faster, humming around him to let the low vibrations push him over the edge. and it does—suguru cums with a choked ‘m cumming, baby before he gifts you with those breathy gasps you love so much, music to your ears as he fills your mouth and paints it white with thick, hot ropes of his release.
he fucks up into your mouth, riding out every wave of pleasure as drops of cum dribble from the sides of your lips, his mouth parted wide and his eyes shut tightly as his orgasm crashes over his body in tidal waves.
“baby,” he gasps, “fuck—‘s good. feels good,” you can hear him repeat the words faintly, focusing on swallowing every drop he spills onto your tongue.
and then he slumps, chest heaving in harsh breaths as you pop off of him, swallowing what’s left and staring up at him with wet lashes and glossy lips.
“you’re a mess too,” you giggle, eyeing his sweaty skin and messy bun and hazy eyes.
he cups your cheek, collects the trail of cum on the side of your mouth and pushes is back onto your tongue before leaning down and kissing you deeply, groaning lowly against your lips as he tastes himself.
“i think we can make a bigger mess,” he grins against your mouth, pulling you up gently to climb over and straddle his hips.
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i started this at 4 am very horny for him. but then i got tired and i passed out and now it’s 3 pm and still i’m just as horny for him. being in love with geto suguru feels like being a teenage dude who’s chronically got a raging boner 24/7
also this is inspired by this:
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look at my whore guys. my little mass murderer by day and slut in the sheets by night
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yandere-daydreams · 2 months
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Title: Intoxicated.
Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).
Word Count: 1.0k.
TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.
[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]
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His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.
A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.
Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.
“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”
That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—
As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”
“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”
“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”
He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”
Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.
“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.
“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”
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hwalovs · 6 months
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Days and Nights (M)
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Pairing; Mike Schmidt x reader Word count; 2635 Warnings; this is pure smut, maybe a little plot. Kissing, whining, dom/sub themes, unprotected sex (wrap it you freaks), they get right to it, breeding kink? kind of?, they'reliterallyinloveshutupbro
Description; Being the day shift guard has its perks, you get to leave at midnight, you get to leave for lunch while all the fast food restaurants were still open, and you get to see the cute night shift guard before you leave.
A/N; i am feral for this man, I don't know what happened. one day i watched the movie, the next im frothing at the mouth for another white boy. this is so short i might write something longer for him.
THIS IS NOT EDITED
Mike was hired two months before you, first seeing you before he started his nightly shift at the pizzeria. You were standing outside, reading through a book before looking up when you heard his car door shut. You smiled, and dropped your book back into your bag before walking over. Your car was parked further away from his, but you went out of your way to walk up to him. 
From then on, you two were friends, always seeing each other after your shift and before his. You always made sure his badge was straight, and he always made sure to tell you to get home safe. Sometimes you both would stop to ask each other about your days, he talked about his sister, and you talked about your cats. 
One day, he got there a little early, wanting to get in and use his time to sleep, to try and find more clues about what happened to his brother. He found you asleep at the security desk. Snoring softly, the monitors flickering in and out. He smiled, setting his stuff down besides yours before walking closer, bending down so he could see you more clearly. One of your cheeks was squished against your arm, your breathing even. 
“(Y/n),” he cooed, reaching up to move a piece of your hair. You stir, slowly opening your eyes before realizing who it was in front of you. Shooting up, you rub your eyes and stutter, looking at him, and then the clock.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t even realize I fell asleep!”
He smiles, standing back up and leaning against the desk. He watched you rush around with tired eyes, collecting your stuff while rattling on how active the animatronics were. 
He found you like once or twice, but never regularly. Sometimes he would find a forgotten coffee cup, and he would smile before throwing it away. It was the little things about you that he was slowly picking up on. He remembered each one, and wanted to learn more about you. 
Mike knew he was in too deep when you were getting ready to leave one day, packing up the rest of your stuff and flashing him that dazzling smile you always did. It made him forget the Dream Theory book resting in his bag, or the pills that accompany it. He forgot for just a second why he was there so early, why he was itching to fall asleep at the desk in the first place. 
You stand from the chair, badge catching the light, and when you sigh and roll your neck, whimpering at the tight knot, he shivers. He shouldn't, he knows that, you're his coworker, someone who endures the same nightmare he did- but he couldn’t stop the thoughts of you underneath him, whimpering as he sunk deeper inside you, stopping when his hips were flush against-
“Mike!” 
Your voice felt like ice water, rattling him until he was back in reality. He shifts, hoping that his sweatshirt covers how hard he was. There was a small part of him, deep within his brain, that did hope you saw, that you’d offer to help him. 
“Yeah?” He clears his throat, swallowing when his mouth waters. Smiling, you tilt your head, and he feels his stomach drop. 
“Did you hear me?”
He curses himself, “yeah! Yeah.”
Your eyes narrow, “what did I say, then?”
You were teasing him. You had to be, you were smiling again, and as you walked closer, he tried to rack his brain, trying to remember what you were saying. 
“Cat got your tongue?” Your voice is quiet, and you’re right in front of him. He can smell your perfume, can see the shine of your chapstick that's on your lips. 
“I- uh-”
“You’re so cute,” you chuckle, and it throws him off balance. He almost falls from the whiplash you’ve given him. You usually don’t stop to talk to him like this, you usually pack up and bid your goodbyes, warning him on the animatronics movement- but with how close you were, that he could smell your perfume, he realized he didn’t care. You were here, in front of him, calling him cute.
“What?”
You lean in close this time, your breath tickling his ear. 
“You heard me, Mike. Or are you lost in your thoughts again?”
Your lips press against his and it's the only thing he can think about. Your lips taste like strawberries, and your mouth tastes exactly like he thought it would. Your hands are in his hair, and his are gripping your waist tightly. 
He wonders when he’ll wake up, if this is a dream. When you lightly bite his lip, he moans, and comes to the conclusion that you’re real, and you’re kissing him. 
Pushing you both from the doorway, he backs you up to the desk. Kicking the chair away, he blindly reaches behind you to push away the small controllers that litter the top. He hears something crash onto the floor, but pays it no mind when you're sucking on his tongue. 
His hands reach under your thighs, lifting you onto the desk, and your hands fumble at his belt, the fog that settled on his mind clears for a moment, and he pulls away.
“Here?”
You furrow your eyebrows, before smirking and leaning forwards, “you don’t want it?”
“I do- I really do-”
“Then what’s stopping you?” He tries to think, but can’t when it's only youyouyou on his mind. Flooding his senses, invading his thoughts and making him feel crazy ever since the day he met you. His jeans are tight, and he can feel the precum that's pooling in his underwear. 
“Fuck,” he surges to kiss you again, reaching down to unbutton your jeans. He slides his hands into the waistband, and you use the edge of the desk to push yourself up, letting him yank the jeans off in one fluid motion, your panties going with it. 
The desk was cold on your skin, but you didn’t care when Mike lifted his shirt, biting into the fabric and pushing his pants down far enough to free his cock.
In any other situation, Mike would have you in his bed, pillow under your hips while he eats you out for hours on end. He knew you would taste amazing, just like he knew your mouth would taste amazing. You were perfect to him, and that's the only thing on his mind when he was pressing into you. 
Mike's cock was thick, stretching you out perfectly, a slight burn following. You didn’t stop him, though, because his eyes were locked onto where his cock was slowly sinking into you, and his hands were shaking at the warmth you brought him. 
The monitors behind you continued to show the empty space of the Pizzaria, but it was at the back of both of your minds. Mike’s shirt was still caught between his teeth, his stomach smooth and perfect. He didn’t make a sound until his hips were flush against yours, and the whine he let out made you clench around him. 
His eyebrows furrowed, and he finally looked up at you, pupils dilated, curly hair a mess. Reaching up, you pull the shirt from between his teeth, the fabric wet, and grab the back of his head to drag him into a kiss. His lips are hot against yours, and his tongue licks into your mouth desperately. He moans as he tastes you again, and you grab his hips, trying to pull him further. 
When you pull away, you suck onto his bottom lip, looking at him through your lashes, “look at you,” you coo, “you’re so pretty, baby.”
He whines, blushing as he grinds against you. Finally finding a slow rhythm of deep thrusts. It lets you feel all of him, and lets him feel all of you. He stretched you out so well, and it almost felt like you could feel him in your stomach. He was perfect. 
“You’re so warm,” he whimpers, forehead resting against yours. Pulling at your vest, you manage to throw it to the floor with his, the metal badge chiming against the linoleum. He seems to understand what you’re doing, reaching for the end of your t-shirt, pulling it up quickly. The office was cold, your nipples hardening underneath your bra. You grab at his shirt next, his arms raising so you’re able to throw the shirt to the floor. His hips falter, but he continues.
Mike begins to leave kisses down your neck, biting your bra strap to push it to the side, letting it fall down your arm. He grabs the top of your bra, yanking it down and groaning at the sight of your exposed chest. 
“Fuck,” he curses, licking his lips before surging forwards, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, tongue swirling the bud. Your head falls back against the top of the monitor, moaning loudly. 
Mike pulls away, a string of saliva connects his bottom lip to your nipple, but you lift your head to move closer, licking the spit from his lip to kiss him again. 
There was a heat slowly building in your gut, and you wrap an arm around Mike’s shoulders, trying to make him go harder, to go faster, but he just looks at you with a smirk.
“What is it? Huh?” He asks, his breath heavy. You whine, nails scratching at his skin. 
“Mike-”
He tsks, “common, baby,” he coos, “talk to me.”
“Please- Mike please- harder, fuck me harder,” theres a heat in your cheeks, and you feel your eyes burn at the building coil in your gut. 
Yet, Mike only looks at you with a growing smile, “Harder? You want me to fuck you harder, baby? But why?” He whines, “You feel so good like this.”
“Oh my god,” you moan in frustration, hand reaching in between you both to reach your clit, but his hand grabs your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 
“What is it, baby?”
There's that teasing smirk again, and you can feel your eyes burn. Your orgasm was right there, yet he was slowing down, causing it to be pushed further away. 
“I wanna cum, please, Mike- Please make me cum,” a sob threatens to spill from your lips, but Mike shushes you, kissing you softly. His stubble tickles your cheeks as he lays kisses onto your skin. He bites onto your neck, moaning as you clench around him again, sucking until the skin is bright red. 
He grabs onto your hips, leaning back to look down at where he disappears into you, and begins thrusting harder, letting go of your wrist to allow you to grab onto his shoulders once more. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he licks the pad of his thumb before snaking it between your bodies, rubbing tight circles around your clit. 
Throwing your head back, you almost cry at the hot coil in your stomach threatening to snap, and you can feel the tears that roll down your cheeks. 
“Please- Please, make me cum- wanna cum so bad-” you begging, pleading, in jumbled words that Mike can barely make out. Your legs are locked around his waist, pulling him closer. 
When you cum, your thighs tense around his waist, almost stopping him. Your mouth drops open, and a soft whine falls from your lips. You're clenching so tight around him, Mike almost cums himself, but bends down to bite onto your shoulder to stop himself. He refuses to cum yet, he wants to keep making you feel good. To see you fall apart around him again. 
He leaves another kiss where he was biting down on you, pulling away to leave kisses across your cheeks, before finally stopping to kiss you once more. You're breathing heavily, thighs shaking from the intense orgasm. 
Sliding out of you, he whines softly, pulling you from the desk so you’re standing, he only smiles at your confused face, grabbing your neck softly to pull you into another kiss, tongue licking into your mouth.
“Turn around, baby,” he sighs, holding your hips as you do. The table digs into your hips as you bend down, breasts pressing flat against the cold surface, but he tsks, grabbing your neck once more to pull you back up. His thumb was below your jaw, pressing against your pulse point just enough to feel your heart race.
He uses his other hand to press onto your lower back, making you arch, then reaching down to grab his cock once more and slide through your folds. You were so wet, cum slowly beginning to drip down your thighs. In one smooth thrust, Mike presses his hips flush against your ass, his hand still lightly gripping your neck to keep you against his chest. 
“There you go,” he whimpers, pressing kisses along your shoulders. He starts to thrust again, and you have to bite your lip to stop from moaning loudly. 
He felt so much deeper like this, hitting the spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back. 
There was still a buzz from your orgasm, but it was quickly building into another. Your thighs were shaking, and your palms were flat on the desk, nails digging into the wood. 
“M’gonna cum again-” you moan, knees almost buckling as the rapidly building heat. Mike smiles from behind you, but moves his hand from your waist again, snaking it down once more to circle his fingers around your swollen clit. 
“Again? You gonna cum for me again, pretty girl?”
“Oh my god- Mike-” You’re cumming before you even realize it. Head blank except for the thought of him-
His grip on your throat tightens just slightly, and you reach up to grab his wrist. His hips falter, breathy moans filling your ears as he presses your hips harder into the desk. You knew there would be bruising, but at the moment you didn’t care. You would let Mike do anything he wanted to you, as long as he kept making those heavenly noises for you. 
“You feel so fuckin’ good baby,” he slurs, “my pretty baby- you’re just perfect f’me- Perfect fuckin’ pussy too-” 
“Mike, please” you whimper, arching your back more for him. 
He hums, thrusting harder into you, “that's right baby-” he leans forwards to tilt your head, locking eyes with you, “say my name.”
“Mike-”
He groans, head rolling until your noses touch, “again, say it again baby- please-”
“Mike!-” 
“I’m gonna cum- fuck-” 
Your hand is wrapping around the grab onto him, nails dragging across his skin, “Inside me- please cum inside me- wanna feel you so bad-” 
Mike’s thrusts stop, grinding against you as he spills inside of you. Uttering your name under his breath like it's the only thing he’s ever known. 
You were everything he’s ever wanted. To have you clenching so tight around him, to be able to have you like this was like a dream to him. He never wanted to wake, he wanted to stay here with you forever, but as you both collected yourselves, his cum sliding down your thighs and dripping onto the floor, he knew better than that. He’s sitting in that uncomfortable chair again, watching as you slide your jeans on. You forgo your panties, reaching down to unzip his bag, smiling as you let them drop inside. 
“Do you wanna go on a date?”
You laugh, and it fills the room with a brightness he knew only you could bring. 
“I think we’re way past going on a date.”
“Then how about dinner? I make a mean Spaghetti and meatballs,” he smiles, and feels like his world is complete when you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, “I’d love that.”
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churipu · 3 months
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STUDYING WITH GOJO INCLUDES ✮⋆˙
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featuring. gojo satoru x reader
warnings. clingy gojo, college! au, study buddies (u guys r dating) but he's unserious, soft gojo
note. sksjlddlsjjd look at me uploading anything but my 1k event, but pls i can't stop thinking abt studying with gojo and how unserious he will be during the session.
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studying with gojo includes him whining about being bored because he's just naturally gifted — while you actually needed to study to match his brain capacity. he's a whiny baby about having to accompany you study when he was the one who volunteered to do so.
"baby, come on. can we please take a break? how long has it been? two hours?" he whines softly, his forehead had been stuck to the surface of the short table you had in your room. his long legs sprawled underneath it.
"satoru — it's been twenty minutes. and nobody forced you to be here, you can go if you want to," your answer only furthered his whining, like a small child who hasn't gotten what he wanted, he shifted a bit, letting the table move along with his movements; preventing you from focusing on the book you were scribbling on.
the man child finally pulls himself to sit up straight, a red blotch on his forehead. with furrowed brows, and a big frown on his face, he grabbed your pencil and tossed it across your room — sighing, you grabbed another one from your pencil case, and he did the same thing. only then after, the decided that throwing your pencil case across the room was the best choice.
"satoru, if you're not going to let me study, please leave."
yet again, another whine escaped his throat as he threw his head back onto your bed, "come on, 'ts good to take breaks, cuddle me, love me, pay attention to me!"
"we can do that later, 'ts a big exam next week . . ."
studying with gojo includes him distracting you with his love — whether it being a kiss, or just him stuck to your hips like a koala. he just needed a bit of love and attention as well.
gojo paced around your room, trying to distract himself from your silent form. poking around your figurines and shelves, looking through old year books, and even family albums. but nothing, he comes back to you, slotting your sitting form in between his open legs. gojo slithered his arms around your waist, burying his face into your shoulder.
"'m dying here y/n . . ."
your vague silence only offended him, "so y'don't care if your boyfriend's dying?"
sighing you replied, "i do care. but you're not," gojo grumbled under his breath, prepping his head up so his chin rested on top of your head, whistling out a a random tune that, of course, bothered you, "'toru, shut up."
"give me the love and attention that i deserve and maybe i'll stop," he nonchalantly said before continuing his whistling concert.
studying with gojo includes him finally being tired of not receiving what he wanted, and he turns sulky. his aura gloomy — and the corner of his lips tugged down into a big, giant frown.
gojo slipped himself under the table, resting his head on your thighs. the male looks up at you, only getting a good look of your chin and neck, he reaches his finger out, touching the tip of your chin before traveling down your neck.
still no love. or attention.
the male lets out one last (loud) sigh and tore himself away from you, plopping down on your bed. hiding under the covers, he curled himself up into a ball, his big back facing you — letting out grumbles under his breath as he hides his sorrow away.
you think gojo was being dramatic. he usually comes back, yearning for attention. but no, this time he didn't, just laying there on your bed for the next half an hour — where you coincidentally finished the last question in the practice page.
"satoru, are you asleep?" no answer. but the male shifted slightly, "satoru."
again, no answer. but gojo kicked his legs once, showing that he was indeed, not asleep at all. he had just been lying there, in the same position for the past half an hour.
"satoru, are you mad at me?"
gojo peeked one of his blue eyes from under the blanket and huffs childishly before grunting, he then prompted to pull down the blanket over his eye again. letting you have a taste of your own medicine, "fine, i was going to tell you that i can now give you love and attention. but you seem a little angry so i'm just gonna leave you alone—"
the male opened the blanket and pulled you under the warm fabric with him before covering you both, he immediately locks you in his embrace using a leg over your torso, "finally," he mutters out.
gojo pulled you in, a hand resting on your hips. his fingers raising the hem of your shirt just a bit to brush his digits on your skin intimately. he leans his head on top of your chest, "'m still mad at you if you're wondering."
chuckling, your fingers threaded with his white locks. your cheek pressed onto his head, "you're so childish, 'm not as smart as you, y'know? i need to study."
gojo hums softly, "there's still a week. seven days. you can start studying tomorrow, i promise i won't bother you then," he mutters out, his lips puckering into a small pout.
promises were meant to be broken anyways.
studying with gojo includes him promising he won't bother you the next time — and him ended up doing the same thing, because why study when you can love him instead?
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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onlyswan · 3 months
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summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.
idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k
content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe
> in which masterlist!
note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼
“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.
the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.
you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.
however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.
if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.
“good morning!”
“oh! wait there for a moment!”
jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.
upon your return, his face lights up again.
“here you go!”
he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.
“w-why are you-?”
you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”
“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”
your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?
“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.
a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…
“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”
oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.
“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”
“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”
“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”
“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”
“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”
“i told you— it’s my rest day.”
“you did?”
“while we were texting last night.”
“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”
“you? what are you doing today?”
you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?
“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”
jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”
you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.
“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”
“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”
“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”
your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.
he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?
his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.
“well, now i know.”
jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.
a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.
he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.
“are you wearing toe socks?”
“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”
“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.
“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”
“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”
“yeah, you should!”
he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.
“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”
you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.
he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?
“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”
“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”
“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”
“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”
“but it’s embarrassing…”
it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.
“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.
kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…
this is an entirely different world through your lens.
it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.
“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”
he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.
“not because they’re nutritious?”
“that’s the bonus!”
“what is this?”
“cranberry juice.”
“and this?”
“oyster sauce.”
you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.
“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”
“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”
“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”
“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”
“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”
you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.
“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”
and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.
the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.
“you never give up, do you?”
“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”
“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.
“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”
you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.
“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”
“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”
the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.
“what’s my height then?”
“aren’t you six feet?”
the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.
“yes, you’re ri-”
“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.
and he winces, guilty as charged.
“you hesitated!”
“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”
“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”
you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.
he calls out your name.
“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.
“want to hear a fact about me?”
you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”
“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”
“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”
at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.
“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”
“what’s your ideal type?”
being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.
“why do you want to know that?”
you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.
“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”
“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”
his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.
“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”
and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.
“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”
because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.
“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”
“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”
every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.
“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”
“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.
you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”
“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.
“but i want to hear you say it.”
“you’re very beautiful, ____.”
“but that’s not-”
“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”
he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.
you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.
the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.
beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.
another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.
“hi!”
“hi.”
“what are your plans for the holidays?”
“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”
the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.
jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.
the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.
“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”
you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.
“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”
“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”
he nods in confirmation.
the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.
“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”
and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.
“i’ll watch you too!”
he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.
“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”
“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.
“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”
“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”
his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.
he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”
you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.
“this is tough love!”
jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”
you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”
jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.
“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”
“what are you talking about?!”
oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.
“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”
“maybe you got a bad batch!”
“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.
your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.
“shit, how heavy is this?”
you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.
“i’ll come with you!”
“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”
it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.
“let’s go.”
jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.
“this thing is bigger than you.”
an extremely obvious exaggeration.
“i’ll be the one to carry it.“
jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.
when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?
“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”
“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”
“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”
“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”
“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”
“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”
“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”
a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.
“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”
“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”
“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”
“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.
“i’m serious!”
“i don’t think i believe you, though…”
“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.
‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’
“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”
“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.
“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.
“we can’t…”
the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”
your lips form a pout.
“my panties…”
you bring a finger to point at the basket.
“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”
“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”
why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!
“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”
his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.
yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.
“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”
“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”
you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.
“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”
“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”
the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.
“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”
“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”
he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”
“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”
“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.
“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”
his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.
“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”
your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.
a wish…?
what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?
“did you do it?”
you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.
“what did you wish for?”
“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”
jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.
“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”
you gaze switches from him to the living room.
the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.
you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?
it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.
the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.
this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.
after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.
once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.
heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.
with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.
“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.
you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.
and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.
“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”
you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”
he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.
tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.
you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.
“jungkook?”
“yes?”
“are you cold?”
“freezing.”
you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”
the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.
“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.
a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.
he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.
the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.
guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well
and you looked so cool on stage ☺️
merry christmas jungkook ❤️
“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”
seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.
“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”
“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”
“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.
he allows a moment of silence.
his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.
“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”
Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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urfavleo777 · 6 months
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Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, oral (m receiving), choking, hair pulling, fluff.
It was an October evening. The sun had long since set, causing all the streetlights to go out. Now, the moonlight shining through the window was the only light you could use to continue reading your favorite book.
Accompanied by the sound of rain, you devoured the pages of The Picture of Dorian Gray. With a sigh, you turned the next page. You were getting close to the end, which made you even more sadder. Your weak spot was your attachment to books and some people.
Specifically to one person.
“Baby?“ Your boyfriend's voice caught your attention. You put the book on the bedside table and bit your lip at the sight of your boyfriend standing in only his lovely pink pajama pants. “Are you still reading?”
“Oh..“ you sighed softly, completely dazed.
"Whoa, you alright?" Colby looked down at you, concerned on his face, "Y/n."
You shake your head slightly, "Yeah." You stand up straight, "You just.." You found a more comfortable position, "Look so beautiful tonight"
“Only tonight?” he laughed brilliantly, moving closer to the bed. Then he lay down and took you in his arms, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. You immediately forgot about the plot of the book that you were reading eagerly just moments ago.
You gently brushed his hair away and planted a kiss on his bare shoulder, only realizing you'd tickled him when you heard a small, muffled laugh come from the crook of your neck where Colby was resting his head.
During that quiet intimate moment the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your breaths and the sound of your kisses.
“Have I interrupted you in anything?“ he murmured dreamily, after a while.
“No, I was just reading.” You denied it immediately.
"I love you." He muttered as he gently pulled away from him, after some moments, and you cupped his face in your hands after tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “We can continue, if you want.”
“Continue what?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Reading your book.” He replied with embarrassment.
"My sweet, smart boy." You laughed before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you too. And sure, we can continue reading my beloved Dorian Gray.”
“Oh.” He clutched his heart dramatically.
A smile appeared on your face. “Are you jealous because of a fictional character?”
He pretended to feel offended, making you laugh again. Just as he was about to answer, the loud sound of thunder interrupted him. You flinched unexpectedly.
Now he was the one laughing. You huffed in mock outrage.
“My little girl is afraid of thunderstorms?” He gently ran his fingers through your hair’s. “Let me take care of you properly, love.”
You nodded and tried not to smile too wide when you leaned in to kiss him.
You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.
“Wanna suck you off,” you murmured, slurred and muffled against his mouth.
Colby breathed out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I rarely know this side of you, babe.” He told you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms.
“Do you want a blowjob or not?”
“Well, yeah, but I—”
“Good,” you hummed with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his pants. You tugged at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric. 
Finally you decided to have mercy on him as you flattened your tongue against his dick, deciding to follow the vein from his base to his tip. Colby let out a high-pitched whine followed by a "thank you", but you didn’t really care. Yes, it felt good for him, but this was also for your pleasure. You swirled your tongue around his leaking tip, tasting the salty essen.
“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.” He tilted his head back, gripping the sheets. “Fuck, please baby. Don't stop.”
You smiled up at the wrecked man, the man begging for you to continue. You could feel the light pressure of his hand against your head trying to push you closer to his groin.
“Can I kiss you?” He surprised himself as the question had left his mouth.
“Please.” you whined with desperation, making Colby groan as his lips found yours in a frenzy.
Your fingers slowly trailed down, finally wrapping your dainty hand around the sheer girth and length that was Colby’s cock.
Another unashamed whimper fell from between his pretty lips.
“That feels good, baby?” You murmured into his mouth between the smacks that echoed off the walls.
“Fuck, yeah mhm, it does.” He rushed out awkwardly, making you giggle into the kiss.
You took him back into your mouth, but that time without mercy as you relaxed your throat, slowly moving down inch by delicious inch as you tried not to gag, his tip now bullying your uvula like his own personal punching bag.
You fucked his aching cock into your throat, bobbing your head up and down, over and over.
“I need your cock so bad Colby.” You moaned.
“Use me, please. J-just fuck, just use me pretty girl.” Colby whimpered.
“Yes, sir.” You whispered into his ear before placing a gentle kiss there. You turned around, hand grabbing onto his still hard cock, you lower yourself into his lap, pink tip already prodding at your hole as your back became flush with his chest, you lay your head back against his shoulder and burrowed it into his neck, both of you moaning in unison as you sink onto him, slowly.
He was so big it was like he was ripping you in half, but you welcomed the burn. The pleasure and pain of it all made your cunt drip even more, further creating less pain and a whole lot more pleasure.
“Shit, you’re so wet and so fucking warm, baby.” Colby huffed.
You wailed as your legs begin to shake, your cunt clenching around him as your nails digging into his thighs that continue to slap up into the backs of yours.
“Colby– I’m cumming, oh my god!” You sobbed, when the most intense pleasure was coursing through your body, turning you into a twitching mess.
“Fuck, me too baby, wher-” He didn’t even get to finish, before you were begging him to cum inside you. Of course he obliged, eyes rolling back into his head and cock throbbing as his heavy load shot deep inside you.
“Goddammit.” He whispered into your neck.
The intensity of the moment consumed you, as he poured every ounce of himself into you, leaving you both utterly spent and satisfied. You both were breathless and drenched in perspiration, your legs entwined with his.
The storm seemed to be going away, the quiet rumbling was barely audible. All of a sudden the street lights came back up. Colby chuckled and sighed.
“So, you still want to read that book of yours again?”
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writella · 4 months
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A Different Kind of Ride
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Synopsis: Reader wants to ride Daryl’s bicep!
Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader. Just smut, (bicep) riding, masturbation (m). I think they’re both giving switch vibes, they enjoy watching, and are obsessed with their partner’s body. Overall, lots of grinding, desperation, and Daryl wanting to panty sniff— slay. Mostly proofread. wc: 1.7k.
A/N: Literally sighing and moaning and licking my lips while thinking about this. He’s so fine. Also hi!!! I missed you all. with love, writella. ♡
The scene starts in his room. He’s laying almost slanted on the bed. His head rests near the bottom half of where the pillows reside. His shirt is off, but his pants remain. His tools and weapons were still attached to his lower hips. He was dirty. Grimey and sweaty. Small strands of his hair sticking to his face, while the rest fell effortlessly above his shoulders and onto the bed.
You, on the other hand, were clean. Dried, soft, and smelling of fresh creamy white soap in your pajamas, all ready for sleep.
You didn’t care though. That’s what you get when you want him. And you liked the rattle, and cling, and thump of his belt as you continued to bounce and grind down on the area where his cock resides. Clothed and covered under two layers but the way his bulge pressed and squished perfectly into you was more than enough. Not to mention how the seam of your shorts made its way into your folds adding an extra amount of friction that scratched your clit just perfectly.
It all felt just as good as having him inside of you, honestly. Your eyes rolled back and then closed, your mouth stays slightly open. Your top teeth come to bite your bottom lip every time you rocked forward and the feeling was just right. You start pushing deeper and harder, your hands rest of his chest for assistance as your eyes screw tight: you were focused.
“Need you, need you, want you; it feels so good; please, please,” are the thoughts that scream inside you as you quickly and tightly press down into his groin and then start to jump: imagining him thrusting into you all short and fast— it feels like a little a bounce-bounce-bounce-bounce motion, accompanied in unison by pants that make you go into a quick and breathy “hm-hm-hm-hm.”
Then you start to rock on him again, it’s like an ocean wave: pushing up as high as you can go, and then pushing all the way down and letting your clit feel him from bottom to top— “mmm, ah,” you whine.
Your eyes are scrunched so tight, giving it your all, trying your bestest like the good little girl you are; determined to make yourself come. You needed it.
And Daryl sees it. He watches. Mesmerized by the focus and determination of your entire body.
He can’t tell if he’s the one in control because of your desperation and how little you need from him to get you soaked, or if it’s you because of your position, and because of how effortlessly you have taken control to reach your high.
Either way, you’re both intoxicated by each other. You were on him almost instantly as he entered the room, after all. And he let it happen. You told him you missed him, you went to hug him, he kissed your forehead and messed up your hair, giving you a sleepy “hey,” with a bashful smile only saved for you. Then wordlessly he let you take off his vest and shirt, pushing him onto the bed— which did nothing in actuality, he was almost immovable, but as your hands pressed on his shoulders, he went down anyway. Down for the ride, enjoying the sight.
So much so that his eyes are dazed as the look upon you. Looking at how your waist contorts in unison with the rock of your hips on top of him, how your nipples harden under your shirt, how putting your hands on his chest and every time he makes one of his dark and gruffy sounds makes your pussy jerk and you moan louder.
His hands grab onto your hips, pushing you forward. He sees how the shape of your little shorts molded into your pussy lips as you grind down. He bets they’re drenched in that area now. If you come in them, he wants to suck on it, and then rip them off and eat you out when you’re done.
His hands trail higher, securing themselves onto your waist. You grab his arms then as you continue to rock, going from his forearms to his biceps, feeling the curves. You open your eyes, you don’t even catch his entrancement at the area of where your bodies meet. You focus on the divets of his arms, how strong he is, how big he is. It makes you whine frustratingly, pushing into him faster.
Suddenly, you get off of him and onto your knees, hurrying to take your shorts off.
Daryl’s eyes don’t even look at you, “Give ‘em,” he says as you reach for the hem. He looks straight at the wet and sweaty pair on you, eyeing the wet spot that has spread in the area of your mound. Truly he could see almost everything despite the cover by the way they folded into you.
The demand doesn’t even surprise you as much as it excites you. You throw them at his face. No questions.
You extend his arm on the bed, his hand sprawled flat. Stroking it, you breathlessly say, “I want this.” You're desperate but you wait for approval, but he has his other hand on his face, holding your thrown shorts over his nose and mouth like a mask, breathing you in. His breath inward is loud and it’s followed by a deep and raspy hum. It made your pussy jut, your eyes widen, your mouth gasp. You whine impatiently, inserting your finger into your hole as he moves the part with the seam to his nose, breathing it in again, and then, sucking it dry with his mouth, watching your fingers spread more wetness all over your pussy.
You moan and your body shakes with his eye contact. “Please?” You ask him with a pout.
He moves his arm you held to use both hands to undo his belt. He sees that you continue to rub your clit with a sad look on your face as you wonder what he’s going to do. He drops his pants to the ground and you watch his boxers make a tent on top of his hard cock as he places his arm back where you put it.
“Go on,” he tells you finally, giving you a nod. “Do whatever you want.”
Ecstatically, you move your knees on either side of him, lowering down, and letting your wet pussy lips open around the curves of his upper arm, taking up as much of him as they can. It’s only a little, your tiny lips can only cover so much, but it feels great. You clit presses down against his arm perfectly, getting the direct attention you desired.
You begin to rock and it feels as perfect as you expected. Your mouth opens again and your eyes flutter close, focusing on your task— riding his bicep and making yourself come. You were determined.
Daryl’s dick twitches as he watches you. His other hand comes behind his head, resting it under him to tilt his head up a bit, getting more comfortable as he gazes on your blissed out expression.
It felt great to know how attracted you were to him. That even his arms alone could have your pussy become a sopping mess. At this rate he knew you would come tonight from that alone. The thought makes precum slip from his tip and make him grunt and hum lowly; he just couldn’t get enough of watching you. Like a little horny-teenaged-babygirl discovering grinding for the first time, doing it on anything she could to feel a release.
It made him finally push down his boxers and touch himself. He spits on his hand and begins to stroke his cock. He started to pump, his grunts becoming more strangled, he couldn’t even attempt to start edging eventually. You looked so cute and pathetic, so sexy. He wanted to come with you.
You moan from your movements and from hearing his voice. It makes your eyes flutter open as your head tilts, catching a glimpse of Daryl working on himself which makes you open them all the way. Now you rock as you watch him. “Oh, Daryl,” you plead.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” He asks gruffly. Giving you direct eye contact as he pumps.
“I’m making you want to touch yourself like that?” You ask sweetly, giggling as you continue to rub your clit just right against him. “Huh, Daryl?” His dick and his hand looked so veiny and angry as pumped. It made you moaned again. “Fuck, you’re so handsome.”
Daryl almost chokes on his breath. Every mean and grumpy comment he could have left him. All he has grunts and you can swear he almost growls because of your little smile and the way he watches your breasts fall out from your shirt as you take it off. He’s speechless and pumping into his hand faster, watching as your pussy tries to engulf the entirety of his arm.
You grind down faster, pushing and pushing forward and backward on his bicep until you feel a yummy hotness rise. Your clit felt like it was on fire with goodness, you finally were about to explode. You pant and moan and Daryl begins to pump himself harder. His hand slapping against his skin, his voice making a low sound every time he reaches the end of his shaft. All there is, is the sound of him and you and your voices— nonsensical, reaching your peaks.
Your breath hitches, and your hands come to the bed, your back arches and your head tilts forward as you go harder and harder, furiously pushing into him until finally— “OH!”— you come.
He isn’t far behind. He watches your eyes roll back and your mouth open wide, your moan and the feeling of his arm being drenched telling him you reached your orgasam which makes him do so as well. A strangled groan, quick and paused, erupts and is then interrupted by another more loud moan as hot spurts of white jump out onto his leg and the bed.
You look on breathlessly. Your movements now slowed but continuous as you bring yourself down from your high, his come messing up the sheets making you whine from the sight.
When you both catch your breaths and you move your thighs from his arm his hands grab you by the hips. His movements direct you to sit on his groin as you once did before.
He wants to see how you ride on his cock now.
And of course, you oblige.
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