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#and i think that’s a nice way to show effort at least
neet-elite · 2 days
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↳ EVENT 03. Sebastian (Date Night)
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Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,779 Warnings: established relationship, cock humping, cum in pants. thats it <3 Prompt(s): 03 — date night Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: im loving how soft everyone in this event has been, it's allowed me to stretch my fluff writing muscles a little which i desperately needed <3 don't get me wrong, im just as excited to get to the rougher requests too hehe! but this is a nice change of pace from my usual stuff, so thank you for letting me indulge in this type of writing!
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A weekly tradition, one he's kept with him for as long as he can remember. Even when he was too young to drink, his mom would drag him to the saloon every weekend just like how everyone else in town would inevitably show up soon after, the kids getting free reign of the pool room to play in while the adults enjoyed the end of the week together, surrounded by too tall glasses of beer he was always mesmerized by. And years later, he still visits to play with his friends— only he's of legal drinking age now and able to appreciate the taste of alcohol appropriately, which adds a fresh spin to the lifelong pool nights as it were.
And, of course, there's you too. The new addition to his routine, married and homely. A welcomed plus one at that, not just by him, but by his friends too. A small little get together with everyone that quite often doubles as a date night; especially considering there's fuck all else to do in the lazy Pelican Town other than get drunk outside or get high at home. And he does enough of the latter with you already, so he likes to think that these saloon date nights count for something, right?
It's a chance for you to get all dressed up and pretty at the very least! Not that he doesn't think that you're always the prettiest girl in the world, but he knows that he puts in a little more effort himself when it comes to attending the weekly function, and it's nice to see what sort of outfit you'll end up in too. Because you look so pretty in them all, he'd be hard pressed to pick a favourite. Giddily awaiting his chance to politely ogle you from across the bar, a secret hidden game shared amongst lovers.
"Seb!" He hears you yell from the bathroom, and a smile automatically finds its way to his lips. Sitting on the edge of your shared bed, all ready to go, he yells back an eager yeah babe?
Footsteps answer his question, and he awaits your arrival with bated breath. Expecting you to be done dressing by now, maybe needing some help with a difficult to reach zip or something? But what he doesn't expect is... Well, God, look at you...
Oh, that's gotta be his favourite outfit on you after all. Wasn't so hard to pick now, was it? The sight of you entering the bedroom, cute confused look on your face, wearing what he can see is only his old hoodie and a pair of underwear is such a pretty view. He bites his tongue as you saunter closer, else he's liable to spill filthy secrets about just how long he's yearned to see you wear exactly that, eyes half lidded the moment his gaze lands on your bare thighs. You could wear anything in the world, the most expensive dress known to man, the prettiest pare of heels in the world, and this would still be his favourite. Barefoot and underdressed, how domesticated you appear, hair and face all done up nicely, dressed to the nines in his hand me downs. There's not a prettier sight, he suddenly decides. Wanting to clutch his chest from how in love he is with you wearing his hoodie, an unmistakeable thirst present in how his hands itch to haul you on top of him so he can love on you a little. Genuinely pained from how badly he wants you in such a swift moment, his pretty little wife.
Still, he hopes you plan on wearing more than just that out to the saloon; a tight tug of jealousy wrapping around his fluttering heart. Except, well, maybe he really doesn't. You look perfect as is, all smiles and wifely in his beloved clothing. His beloved wearing his beloved, he'd rather you stay just as you are. But the thought of others interjecting themselves into such a personal moment for him is annoying, has him already wanting to shield you away from prying eyes despite remaining safe at home.
"Do you know where my uh... My— y'know?" You vaguely gesture towards your bare thighs with your words, and his eyebrows raise in faux suspicion. You always get so frazzled before leaving for the saloon, something about the excitement of the night to come getting to you, and though he truly believes it's innocently adorable how you fret, he can't help but wet his lips at the way you draw attention to your pretty legs right in front of him.
"Your... pants?" He questions back, tutting quietly to himself when you enthusiastically nod yes!
Of course he knows where they are— you had thrown them to him just before getting in the bathroom to assumedly finish getting ready. And like the polite husband he is, he took them without any issue. Quietly holding on to your possessions like he's been taught to, because he enjoys helping you out without need for questioning. "Sure do." He plainly states, reaching behind his back to retrieve the thrown away bottoms only to waggle them in front of you— just out of reach!
The sigh of relief you let out has him chuckling, light laughter filling the air as you ramble on about being so ditzy sometimes, but he thinks it's cute. Loves being your metaphorical knight in shining armour when you come seeking his help for the easiest of things; simply because you've forgotten again. It's nice to be of use to you.
Buuuut, on the other hand, it's just as much being your bully, too. There is intimacy in the moment where your eyes go wide as he tugs the clothing a little farther away, a silent encouragement for you to keep coming, just a little closer. The soft padding of your bare feet on the old creaky floorboards of the farm house rings in his ears as you pout prettily at him, almost bashfully, and he considers it a blessing to see you this exposed and vulnerable up close. "Ah-ah." He teases, extending his arm as high up as possible and rendering your pants inaccessible, a sneaky smirk matching his taunting tone. "I think you should leave just like this," He wiggles around, escaping your attempts to take hold of your bottoms with ease, because he knows your tactics well by now. This is not the first time he's teased you like this. "What d'ya think, babe?"
"I can't, Seb! It's too cold, hence the hoodie!" You huff cutely, and by God does he wanna kiss your lips all better. Cock quietly twitching in his pants as you take his playful attitude well, leaking a little precum for you as you tug on the hoodie strings enough for him in your demonstration of how cold you really feel to be able to see that you wear it just like him: as in, with nothing else on underneath.
He briefly wonders if you can feel the heat coming off of him, big arms ready to cuddle you up against his toned chest in an effort to share his warmth with your apparent shivering self. But you answer his question swiftly when you take to climbing on top of him, his arms immediately wrapping around you as a sharp gasp escapes him— the feeling of your knee brushing against his cock knocking the wind out of him, and still he cares more for your safety than the embarrassing fact that just seeing you in his hoodie has him rock hard already.
Tense pause follows, frozen in place with his strong arms keeping you stable as you rock preciously on his lap. God knows where your clothes have gone, because they were immediately tossed aside the moment he thought you might fall, favouring your safety above all else. And then, without a second though, he blurts out a rushed "Sorry— I, it's just..." Before he buries his head against your chest, taking a shaky inhale to try and collect his thoughts, but with your body practically skin tight to his from how snugly he holds you, cock rubbing inadvertently against your leg, the scent of you mixing with the old musk of his worn hoodie— it was a mistake to tease you from the get go. Only resulting in riling himself up enough to have him biting down on his bottom lip to stave off the primal need to buck his hips against literally any part of you like some sort of horny teen; the things you still do to him. Maybe it'd be understandable if he was acting this way back in the beginning of your relationship, and yet...
"You look good in that." He sighs into you, emphasis on the good to make sure you understand the weight of your actions tonight, curling further into you and leaning back on the bed, safely dragging you down with him and letting go just so he can see how you look above him. "Should be a sin, honestly." He laughs with you, noticing the soft blush on your cheeks prompted by his open honesty.
It's not so bad to admit to such degeneracy, right? Cock nestled firmly between your legs, his hands coming up to stroke gentle lines up and down the fat of your thighs lovingly. Would that he could keep you here all night to himself, dying to show you just how much he loves the minimal fit the best way he knows how. But one look at the clock denies him such pleasures, a heavy sigh escaping him as he notices that he should have left with you five minutes ago.
"C'mon," he pats your ass fondly, blowing some hair out of his face as he half sits up, leaning his weight on one arm while his legs still yet hang off the edge of the bed. "We should get going, once we find your— ah, fuck— babe—!"
Mid sentence, you effectively shut him up with a simple movement. Just a small rock forward, nothing too serious. But fuck does it feel great having you take control like that, his eyes flickering up to your face only to see it scrunched up similarly to his own. Tense, expectant. He holds his breath for a second or two, reclaiming a spot on your back as one arm wraps possessively around it, the other still holding him up.
"Or— We could stay here, if y'want?" He offers, but rather than waiting for a response, he slowly guides you into more movement. Pushing lightly on your back to help you hump forward, and removing the weight of his hand to watch you slide back down his lap. Knowing that you're depending on him for stability when your own hands take root on his shoulders is nice, strokes his ego about as well as your barely clothed cunt strokes his cock off right now. And he figures he's got his answer when you bite your lip so seductively that he has to roll his cock up in tandem with you, literally forced into helping you get off on his lap because instinct begs him to please his wife.
It's just that he's so in love with all the small details, y'know? Like how his hoodie fits you better than it ever has him, how it falls from your frame so prettily as you hover above him, his hand gripping the back of the fabric a little tighter so it showcases your frame just that much better for his leering eyes. The little hah's and seb's your pretty lips whine for him as he helps you ride back and forth on his fat cock, the way your brows furrow in concentration, trying desperately to feel the full weight of his hidden cock, cloth barrier providing enough stimulation to rub nicely against your scantily clad clit, but he knows that frustrated sob all too well. He's fucked it out of you enough times before to know that you need more— but babe, you're already running late.
"C'mere." He prompts you with a head tilt, the moment your face gets close enough to his own he courteously kisses you. Short and sweet, a quick peck more than anything, before your greed overtakes you and you push your hips down into him with more vulgar intent, leaving his mouth wide open in a silent gasp of pleasure for you to take advantage of. He'd never complain at the feeling of your tongue running along his own, his grip tightening on the old hoodie you adorn as a means to display some semblance of restraint, but every drop of shared saliva he's forced to swallow in hopes of more has his head dizzy with desire. A great need welling in his tummy to help you get off, desperate to have you use him for your own benefit like the pretty princess you are to him.
He returns the fervour readily, impishly nibbling down on your lower lip before you do the same back, charming him with a simple smile as he leans in for more kisses. All the while his hips continue to buck up for you, fucking forward when you stroke down, and vice versa when he helps your ride closer to him, drawing his hips down so that his tightly concealed cock almost mimics catching on your pretty hole. The shuffling sound of his jeans fill the room to match the squeak of the bed, and he welcomes every lewd moan and suck you have to offer his needy lips.
"Feels s'fuckin' good, babe—" He slurs truthfully when taking a breather from the heated kiss, vision hazy with how good you look riding him like this. And the fact that he's close already from just a minor amount of petting is a testament to how much he just adores you, he thinks, so there's no room for shame in his pervert thoughts when you push him back down onto the bed, his back cradled gently by the sheets below. And the addition of your open palms on his rapidly rising and falling chest as his lungs struggle to keep up with how fucking hot his wife is when you know what you want only adds to the tight feeling in his core. Balls taut under your relentless humping of his cock, head thrown back with barely there control.
He only wishes he could have whipped it out in time to really feel how soaked your pretty cunt must be, gliding up and down his red hot length as you start to shake on top of him.
Which is perfect, really, because he doesn't think he'd be able to last much longer at this rate either. Saloon well forgotten about when he's got the prettiest girl alive on top of him, riding him so well that he's about to stain his jeans white with how your hips snap up and down his tip, unsure who the main culprit is of the growing wet spot on his bottoms is— but that's hot. Unashamedly yearning for each other as your nails dig into his chest, your thighs tightening at his sides as you pinpoint the exactly location needed to help trigger your orgasm and then—
"That's it, that's my girl—" He manages to force out before he's cumming with you, mostly due to the sight of his hoodie sleeve getting suckled on as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the sickening contrast between how fucking cute you are and that fact that you're cumming all over his nice jeans is too much to handle. After all, he's but a simple man. And when his wife starts to moan his name around the makeshift hoodie gag, he can't help but to shoot his load against his underwear. Cock throbbing under your soaked little cunt as if he were actually filling you up— God he wishes he was, hands digging into your hips as he pushes you against his spurting length to help milk the remainder of seed out.
Just for you.
And he holds you there until he's done, only releasing his grip on you once his body stops tensing and he remembers how to breathe again, a dry half laugh crawling up his throat as you continue to shake for him.
"Better than the usual date night, right?" He muses out loud, pulling you in for a tight cuddle when you join in on his breathless laughter. Hid friends can wait, at least until he's able to find your clothes again. And, a new pair of jeans for himself.
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hollyslangblr · 7 months
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i really need to stop wanting to learn a new language at every slightest thing
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stinkrascal · 1 year
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hilarious how men will expect you to show an interest and participate in their hobbies but whenever youre any flavor of woman and you ask them to show an interest in your hobbies its radio silence 😀
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simpjaes · 3 months
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FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)
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Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.
៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 
៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader
៸៸៸WC: 9.3k
៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed
៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)
smut tags under cut::​​​
SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.
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23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?
In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.
 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 
Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?
Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.
23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 
Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.
At least that she’s aware of.
She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.
For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 
What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.
 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 
Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.
“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”
You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.
“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 
“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.
The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.
“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”
“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”
You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.
“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 
Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 
“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”
“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 
You shrug. 
“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”
“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”
“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 
Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.
“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”
You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.
“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”
In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 
“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 
Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 
“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 
“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 
Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 
Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 
“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.
“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.
He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.
“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”
Ah. He’s one of those guys. 
“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 
“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”
“God, you are such a bore.” 
Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.
“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 
“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”
Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 
“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 
He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 
“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 
He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.
 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.
“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 
“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 
“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.
“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 
Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.
“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”
You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 
“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 
“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”
Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.
“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.
It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 
“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”
He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”
“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”
Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”
“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”
Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”
“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”
His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 
“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 
Offense taken. 
And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 
“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”
“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 
He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.
When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 
You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.
“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.
“Very monotonous, very you.”
Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.
“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”
You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.
“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”
He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.
“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”
Oh, okay.
“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”
Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.
“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”
You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 
“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 
“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 
You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 
“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 
“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 
You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.
He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.
 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 
“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 
You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 
“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 
“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.
Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 
“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 
You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 
“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”
You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 
Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.
“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 
“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 
You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 
“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.
Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 
When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.
“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 
You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 
Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 
Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 
“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”
You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.
So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 
He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 
Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 
“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 
The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 
He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.
He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 
Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 
“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”
That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 
Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 
You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 
This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.
“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 
You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.
Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 
“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”
Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 
You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 
“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.
Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 
“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”
He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 
You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.
“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”
He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.
His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 
“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”
You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 
Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 
You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 
This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.
God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.
And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.
You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 
When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 
“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”
You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 
“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 
Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.
“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”
He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 
“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 
He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–
You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 
“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”
You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 
Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.
“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.
You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 
“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”
Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 
Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 
“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”
This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.
“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.
He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 
“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”
“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.
Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.
He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 
“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 
You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.
Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  
And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 
He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 
“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”
You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 
He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 
God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 
“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.
“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 
He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 
You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.
His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 
You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 
You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.
He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 
“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 
You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 
Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.
The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.
Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.
“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 
You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 
Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.
You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.
“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”
She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 
“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”
His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 
“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”
Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 
“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.
“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.
“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 
“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”
Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 
“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”
She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 
It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.
“I wouldn’t be against it.”
“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 
“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”
You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 
“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”
Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 
“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
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harryspet · 4 months
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bambi eyes (the holiday special) r.cameron
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[Warnings]soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, NONCON, dd/lg, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, heavy on the somnophilia, ittle editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
word count: 1.6k
In which it's your first Christmas Eve with your Daddy, you don't know what you want but Rafe surely does.
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You could think of three things that you wanted for Christmas. Colored pencils, glitter lipgloss, and a small stuffed animal for Bunny. You don’t need any more clothes. You’d been with Rafe for over a month, and there were still clothes in your wardrobe that you had not worn yet. Your room was heaven, with the softest sheets and pillows, and Rafe bought you even more playthings each week. 
Your last gift was a diamond bracelet Rafe gave you because of how well you behaved in front of his friend, Barry. He didn’t punish you for sneaking around downstairs. All you had to do was bring him a slice of cake and sit down on Rafe’s lap while the two of them talked about “getting rid of their problem.” 
There were several trees around the house, but the biggest one was in the living room, by the fireplace, and it was at least two times your height. There were at least twenty presents underneath the tree already, wrapped neatly in paper that was decorated with pink snowflakes. In cozy reindeer pajamas, ones Rafe had also purchased, you sat near the tree checking over your letter to Santa. Although you had a feeling Rafe might secretly be Santa, you let a small part of you believe it was real magic. 
Lana helped you write the letter, and now you were adding a few drawings and stickers to really jazz it up. It took you longer to write it than Rafe preferred, it was already Christmas Eve, but if Santa could somehow bring you exactly what you wanted tomorrow, you’d really believe in him. 
“You almost finished, baby?” 
You looked up to see Rafe entering the living room, most likely finished with his work day, “I couldn’t think of anything else to ask for,” You said quietly, remembering how much Rafe encouraged you to ask for absolutely anything. The truth was you never had anything so you didn’t know what to ask for, “I don’t think I need anything else. But I wrote a nice letter for Santa and I thanked him for everything he does. And I made it sparkly.”
Rafe made himself comfortable on the couch and you brought over your letter, “C’mere,” He said, pulling your legs over his lap before wrapping one arm around you, “This is beautiful work, kid. Santa is going to love it.”
You looked up at him, a smile on his face as he read the words over, “What did you ask Santa for, Daddy?”
“Well, since I already have you,” He squeezed you, making your heart leap in your chest, “I asked Santa to make sure that you have the best Christmas. That you’ll love every gift you get and we’ll have a nice, Christmas dinner.”
You smiled back at him, “I wish I could buy you something, Daddy.”
“No need,” Rafe leaned in to kiss the side of your forehead, “I like giving to you, and I have plenty of money for the both of us. Besides, you’re way too little.” 
When Rafe looked at you, he really looked at you. He held your face in his hands, not tight enough to bruise, so you wouldn’t look away. You were still learning not to feel shy under his gaze. You started to understand that you were just like the gifts sitting under the tree. You were Rafe’s gift to himself. He showed his possession of you through his gaze. 
“Your bows are a nice touch,” He complimented, taking notice of the red ribbons tied around your pigtails. Every morning you spent time doing your hair, and you were slowly learning how to do your makeup. When he noticed your efforts, you felt you were fulfilling your purpose, “And I already knew you’d look cute in your pajamas.”
Rafe liked it when you presented yourself a certain way. He liked things to be dainty and soft. He preferred small jewelry over statement pieces. Pastel colors over bright ones. And you should never have on too much makeup. Lipgloss was better than lipstick and concealer over foundation. He wanted you muted but pretty, just like your personality. 
“Thank you,” You batted your lashes. 
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Rafe and you continued your cozy evening in the living room. You’d made it through the first two Home Alone movies and were now in the middle of watching The Polar Express. Rafe excused himself to the kitchen for a moment, taking the chance to prepare some hot cocoa for the two of you. 
When Rafe returned to the couch, you were sound asleep, your arms wrapped around Bunny. Quietly, he set down the cups of cocoa on the coffee table, and the thought of waking you up crossed his mind. After all, your drink would get cold, but you seemed like you were resting deeply. 
Gently, Rafe laid down next to you. You didn’t wake; you moaned softly as you turned your head, nuzzling your face into Rafe’s neck. Rafe stayed with you like this, having found a new love in sleeping next to you. He never really enjoyed next to sleeping next to anyone, until you, and he began to designate certain nights of the week where you’d stay with him in his bed. 
Watching you sleep made him think back to when he first brought you home. You still looked as innocent as ever, but there was something else Rafe liked about watching you sleep – he loved seeing you vulnerable. Obviously, you were in a constant state of being vulnerable to Rafe’s every whim and want, but this was different. 
He tested just how deeply you were sleeping, slowly taking the doll from your grasp When you stirred only slightly, Rafe continued, first touching you above your pajamas. Large, ringed fingers felt over your chest. He massaged them, kneading them, and you reacted by pressing yourself closer to him. 
Lips parted, and holding in heavy breathing, Rafe continued his exploration. He was growing harder in his briefs, imagining the look on your face when you fully opened your eyes. He licked one of his fingers and reached into your pajama bottoms and then into your panties. This was exactly why he never wanted you to wear panties to bed; they only got in his way. 
He stroked fingers up and down, feeling between your folds. Feeling the moisture there, he wondered what exactly you’d been dreaming about, “Rafe,” He heard you whisper, although when he looked down at you, your eyes were still closed. Although the stimulation was waking you, Rafe knew you were too tired to fully realize what he was doing. 
Rafe shushed you, still playing between your legs, “Is bed … time?” You mumbled as Rafe pulled his hands from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his lips. 
“Yes, sweet girl,” Rafe whispered, “Keep relaxing, Daddy’s got you.”
Rafe pulled his body from yours, moving off the couch before he gently started to pull down your reindeer bottoms.  Carefully, he removed them from around your ankles before slowly lowering himself down on top of you, “Cold … please,” You mumbled, “Daddyyy.”
“I’ve got you,” Rafe said in response to your whining; as he settled on top of you, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in like your dolly or a pillow. Meanwhile, Rafe was trying as carefully as he could to free himself from his briefs. He didn’t have to touch himself at all, he was already aching for you.
He didn’t resist anymore, pushing your underwear to the side and then pushing inside of you, his sweet girl. You were tighter, somehow, causing Rafe’s eyes to roll in pleasure, “Rafe,” He heard you, knowing you in a daze. Currently, he felt quite dazed himself. He knew with his size that he’d wake you but he didn’t account for the fact that your body might try to resist, to push him out. It just motivated him to push deeper, “Rafe. Rafe.”
Your voice was sharper now, scared almost, “You’re okay,” He cooed, “You’re …so so good, sweet girl.”
You loosened your grasp on him, and Rafe took the opportunity to see your face. You were adorable in those red bows, he noticed them first, but then he saw your scrunched-up features, a cute wince on your face. It would feel good soon, he knew that, but he certainly enjoyed seeing you resist. 
“What a fussy little girl, huh?” Rafe thrusted slowly, “Acting like you don’t like Daddy’s cock.”
With each thrust, you were trying to gain your composure, but Rafe was relentless. 
One hand, beside your head, he pressed into the couch to hold himself up, and the other, he reached down to play with your clit, “Cum one time for me,” Rafe commanded, although it was the last thing you wanted. He would give it to you anyway, wanting to see it in your face when your own body betrayed you, “One time, and you can go back to sleep.”
Rafe’s thrust was slow but consistently deep. He switched back and forth from focusing on your pleasure and his. It was difficult for him, he could finish so easily with you, but he held out; Rafe knew when you were getting closer just by the look on your face. Your head tilted back as your orgasm spread through you, and Rafe was quickly behind you. 
Rafe caught his breath, still inside of you, and moved his chest closer to yours, “You okay? You did good, Bambi.”
You nodded calmly, “Did I …Did I miss the whole movie?”
Rafe stared, bewildered for a moment, “Uh … no. We can just rewind it, baby,” He grinned, pecking your lips, “And I can just heat up the hot chocolate again.” 
Your eyes widened, “Hot chocolate like in the movie?”
“Just like the movie, my love,” Rafe’s forehead pressed to yours.
He was grateful for the fact that he could give you the perfect first Christmas tomorrow. He was even more grateful for how perfect you were.
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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!
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ineffableigh · 5 months
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Wait what the hell is Aziraphale mouthing here. Lip-readers sound off!!
This is RIGHT before "The Metatron! I don't think he's as bad a fellow - well I think I might have misjudged him."
His line was: "I, um... [mouthing something]" THEN the above line.
This can't be nothing. Can it? "We need to get out"??? Not sure. EDIT: I agree with @maximumpenguinpuppy here, I think he's saying
"WE NEED HELP."
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Further deep dive on the most painful conversation I've ever seen:
Azi makes the most INTENSE EYE CONTACT I'VE EVER SEEN during "I think I might have misjudged him."
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"PLEASE HEAR WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU RIGHT NOW."
After a few intercuts with the flashbacks we get to the really painful bit.
"He said that I could appoint you... to be an angel." His voice is so strained and high pitched even for him, here.
"Like the old times, only even NICER!"
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The super nice old times where you couldn't be together at all, eh?
Crowley starts his confession and we get the "What the blazes is he doing?" face as he starts to realize Crowley is NOT picking up on any of this. Azi's breathing heavily here, revealing how very stressed the fuck out he is.
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After this point is when things get really hard to interpret. Aziraphale sounds so genuine about "Come with me!" and "We can make a difference, I'll run it and you'll be my second in command." It feels like Crowley starting his very real confession broke through the charade of 'The Metatron knows something and we're in fucking danger'.
He blathers about Angels and Doing Good before breaking again, letting the "I need you!" slip. We get this HALF A SECOND look of the most profound sadness right before the "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."
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"You idiot. We could have been us."
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Azi looks like he can't believe just how badly this went. This is right before he looks away.
OH NO NOW I'VE SEEN CROWLEY'S FACE RIGHT WHEN HE STARTS TO GO OVER FOR THE KISS AH MY FEELS
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Azi is not hiding his emotions well, right before the grab:
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Then of course we get the I Forgive You, which sounds like his most bitter one yet. A flash of anger and resentment, frustration, immediately followed by remorse and grief.
Having seen all that, my best guess now is:
Metatron made the (barely) veiled De Facto Partnership threats, implying he knows about the body swap and, implicitly, threatening Crowley with Holy Water, at least to some extent.
Aziraphale tries his damnedest to communicate to Crowley that Something is Fucking Wrong and they Have to Go to Heaven to Fix It.
Crowley, having been primed by the various chats with Nina and then the 2v1 chat with Nina and Maggie RIGHT before this, clearly timed by the Metatron, fully misses all of this and takes it all at face value.
Crowley starts to give his confession and Aziraphale realizes what he's trying to say, tries to adjust his Heaven Pitch to hinge on staying together as a team to fix things."
"You cannot leave this bookshop." "Nothing lasts forever." Azi has chosen the worst way to make another attempt at saying he has no choice but to leave the bookshop. I don't think this is about the Second Coming, given his reaction to the info later.
Everything deteriorates from there as Aziraphale tries again to imply something is Fucking Wrong by going back to the "Angels! Doing good!" shtick, but it's too late. It's always too late.
"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." He doesn't but Azi is also communicating it very badly, likely because the Metatron is indeed watching.
Crowley thinks this is all real so he gives his No Nightingales line, etc etc. Aziraphale can tell there's no fixing this, gives up.
Crowley swoops in with The Kiss as a last ditch effort to get Azi to listen. Azi WAS listening, but cannot respond other than in anger and frustration that Crowley, in his view, refuses to listen to him again, has called him an idiot again. This happens multiple times throughout the show so there's history to fuel that assumption.
This is the precise outcome the Metatron was vying for, to split them up and emotionally/psychologically weaken them, to ensure there was no chance of a united front as there was for Armageddidn't.
My heart hurts, ow.
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galedekarios · 7 months
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seeing a post that basically confirmed the obvious disparity in content made me think more about a scene i would have liked to see with gale and that i've been thinking about for a while now.
i always felt a bit sad that his condition is so often treated as a joke by the fandom and to a lesser extent by the game itself. i always thought that this is partially down to the fact that we don't truly get so see gale actively be in pain due to his condition, other than brief glimpses and hints:
we do hear the urgency in his voice when he explains when and why he needs an artefact and the relief in his voice when the protag chooses to help him.
we see it, too, when he is afflicted by the arcane hunger condition:
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we get glimpses of it when he consumes an artefact:
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he mentions it, too, in his dialogues, but it's very much downplayed by gale or phrased in such a way that is meant to overplay it with humour, or perhaps even to distance himself from it by using metaphors:
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that is until we actually get to see it through his eyes, if only for the briefest of moments:
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*Its teeth, its claws, it's unstoppable as it digs through and becomes part of you. And gods, it is ever-hungry...*
gale also has an idle animation where he--quite often--reaches up to touch the orb, perhaps because it flares with pain, like an old wound is wont to do:
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(gif by @bladeofavernus)
from the last conversation we have with gale, and after catching all of these little moments of things he says or does with how the orb affects him, we learn that consuming the magic from artefacts no longer has any effect at all. the only solution that tara and he were able to find no longer works:
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it would scare him and imbalance him, and it would finally destabilise the orb, make it more volatile.
but what happens in the game after that? the orb becoming volatile enough for the artefacts to no longer have an effect has no consequences at all: you are able to do the tiefling party, all quests in the underdark, the entirety of the grymforge, and, should you choose to do so, the entirety of the mountain pass and rosymorn monastery without an incident at all or any mention of the condition itself/any discomfort or fear it might cause.
there's no urgency here, no follow-up, to what the narrative set up... and then we meet deus ex elminster and the orb is stabilised, and the urgency that came before literally is handwaved out of existence.
what i would have liked instead to happen--or at least to bridge the gap between the artefacts no longer working and elminster stabilising it to be used on mystra's behalf--is the following:
i think it would have been nice to have a scene with gale where we do get to see--on a much smaller scale--him losing control over the orb, have the protag and the companions see what he is trying desperately to keep contained within himself, what gnaws at him, what continues to haunt him.
it could happen perhaps after a particular gruelling and intense fight--and there are enough of that in the underdark and at the mountain pass. it could have been a ! conversation, providing both friendship and romance content.
have the orb act up after expending so much energy to manipulate the weave to the fullest of his abilities, have gale manage to reign it in, but barely, show that it takes a lot of power and effort for him to do so.
that it hurts, with none of gale's metaphors to hide behind or jokes to play it off.
have the audience truly see the gravity of what he is going through.
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sutorus · 6 months
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OFF TO THE RACES
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DESCRIPTION: toji takes you to bet on one of his races.
PAIRING: toji x reader
WC: 1.9k
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, afab terms, age gap, implied free use, heavy implied dubcon, in public, fingering (f! receiving), come eating (f!), crying, pet names (babydoll, honey, s!ut), heavy objectification 
A/N: yes i grew up on ldr i love my (((strictly fictional))) old men sue me!
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“you better start praying number four catches up soon, babydoll,” he whispers into your ear, snaking a hand around your waist. 
a chill runs down your spine and your body rattles violently in response. 
he had told you to dress up today. 
how naive you were, thinking he’d just said that because it was a nice date, because the type of people that enjoy horse races don’t usually wear flip flops or show their midriffs. 
if only you had known.
you’re trying to hide it, but you’re nervous.
you can’t help it, constantly sneaking sideway glances at the two imposing men who have been staring at you this entire time. 
it would be an unbelievable situation, if it wasn’t toji. not for the first time, you wonder why you ever got involved with him. 
the lip scar should’ve been enough of a warning. the intentionally vague answer he gave about his job should’ve been enough, the decades — plural — that separated you two should’ve been enough. 
but he was a smooth talker. and he was good looking. and he made you feel safe, mostly because, well… who could be more dangerous than him? 
that feeling has never been more prevalent to you than it is right now. 
toji’s gaze follows yours, his fingertips sneaking under your skirt just barely. 
“don’t look so spooked,” he instructs, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. toji laughs low, letting his head loll sideways on top of yours. “you scared of dick or somethin’?”
you hate this. you hate this so much. you hate the way your body’s responding to it the most. 
the heat in your gut spreads all the way up to your cheeks, and you stop yourself from soothing your burning face with the back of your hands. 
he’d told you not to draw too much attention. not to make any sudden movements. you thought it was because — you thought, you thought, you thought. but you were wrong. 
you can’t decide if you can even blame yourself for that. 
you knew toji was running out of money. you knew he was involved with some shady people. 
but when in your wildest dreams could you have imagined he was planning on using you as a betting chip?
the disapproving click of his tongue pulls you from your thoughts, and your eyes lock dreadfully on horse number four. 
it’s falling behind, number six stealing third place from it. 
the heat inside you spreads further. 
“if it’s any consolation,” toji says, conversationally. “i don’t think they’ll be too mean to ya.”
it reminds you of a nature documentary you watched, once. the gazelle, trying to act nonchalant, looking for an escape route, when faced with a pride of lions. a dangerous dance. and everybody knows who’s got the upper hand, there. 
“not meaner than i am, at least,” he adds. 
your shut your eyes tightly. 
you haven’t even dared to look at them properly, at toji’s sponsors or loan sharks or whatever the hell they are. 
you want to scream at him, at how embarrassing it is that they’re younger than him and richer than him, having fun at both of your expenses. 
you realize suddenly that they’re not even here to watch the race. this place probably doesn't entertain them anymore, more of a chore than anything else.
they’re here to watch you, sweating and fidgeting on your seat with the knowledge that your body was theirs if the damn horse didn’t win. 
a one in eight change. 
god, you hoped it was toji’s lucky day. 
you catch a glimpse of a wild, tall figure to the left of you, swaying in gleeful laughter as the horse falls to fifth place.  
“let’s go home,” you grip the hand that’s resting on your leg in a last ditch effort. 
it’s useless, of course.
toji’s jaw is tensed, every muscle tight in anger. 
he doesn’t want this, either. he doesn’t like sharing you. 
but then again, he doesn’t really care about you, does he? cares more about his money, at least. 
your breathing starts to pick up, legs shaking in anticipation. in a way, you just want this to be over. 
you’re so caught up in your dread that you don’t even notice toji’s fingers crawling up your thigh until his knuckles are grazing your clothed pussy. 
your body immediately seizes up, your straightened spine glued to the back of your chair.
he gives a low, mean chuckle when he feels how wet you are. 
toji rubs you there almost soothingly, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. 
your fists are clenched tightly on your lap, legs squeezing together in an attempt to — what? you don’t know. 
stop him? encourage him? it doesn’t feel like it matters anymore. 
toji shifts in his seat to face you, slipping the pads of his fingers into your panties. you huff, only able to watch the movement of his hand underneath your skirt. 
he rubs lazy circles on your clit, eyes on your face and showing no emotion at all.
no remorse at all. 
it feels good. it feels good and you hate that it does, that it feels good with him, that he can get you like this anytime, anywhere. 
you bite down on your bottom lip when two fingers slide down, just teasing your entrance, gliding over your pussy. 
your chest burns from the inside out with uneven breaths, and defeatedly, willingly, you spread your legs just a little bit. 
you’re not watching the race anymore and you think that’s for the better. you focus only on toji’s veiny forearms as the muscles there work over and over with every stroke of his fingers. 
someone clears their throat loudly and your legs kick out in shock. 
an initial wave of panic washes over you but then you’re glad.
surely getting caught fingering your girlfriend at a horse race would get you kicked out, right? and then the deal is over, right? and then you won’t have to—
before you can even vocalize your thoughts, toji’s rolling his eyes and, with a sigh, settling back on his seat to face the race. 
but his fingers don’t leave you. 
no, he continues pumping them lazily in and out of you, thumb pressing down on your clit and rubbing little circles. 
and that’s when you realize the sound had come from the left of you. from the men. not a horrified gasp, a dignified warning, no.
if anything, an entitled demand that toji stops blocking their view of you. 
you wish you could cry right now.
instead, you tuck your chin into your chest as toji speeds up his movements, going a little faster, a little meaner. you swallow your wails, thighs shaking.
those men, they don’t look like they kill. they probably get other people to do that for them. you haven’t gathered a lot from your stolen glances but that much you’re sure of. 
you know you’ll return home to toji. despite everything, you’ll run back to his arms, for better or for worse. 
“you likin’ this?” he’s asking, like he doesn’t know the answer. “y’like that i bet your slutty little cunt on that rank, good for nothing horse?”
you let out a sob, chest lurching. he pumps his fingers in and out of you at just the right pace, hitting just the right patches despite how hard you’re squeezing around him. 
“please…” you mewl, not sure what you’re asking for. 
his thumb is relentless on your clit, rubbing it over and over again. your hips buck on their own, wanting more, more friction, more filling, more. 
“you’ll get more soon, whore,” toji spits out like he can read your mind. there’s no point in hiding how much you’re enjoying this, being in public, being eyed hungrily like a prize, when toji knows your body so well. 
it feels almost like he’s prepping you, physically and mentally, for what’s to come, and it makes you weep harder. 
when a wave of astonished cheers break out in unison, it sounds miles away to you. all you can is the blood rushing inside your ears, toji’s huffed out breaths, the crinkle of bills being passed around from one hand to another. 
you’re slow to notice the commotion is due to horse number four miraculously catching up, coming in at number two now.
dangerously close to first place. 
it’s a rush, all at once, when toji turns your head to kiss you. 
you come undone on his fingers, right then and there, whining crazed moans into his mouth. he groans when your cunt clenches, fluttering around his fingers as the last waves of your orgasm hit you. 
if you focus hard enough, you can hear the shlick of his fingers lazily helping you ride out your high. you can’t help it but to let your head fall on his chest.
when toji pulls his fingers out of you, there are webs of slick in between them. you feel almost embarrassed, even more so when he brings them up to your mouth quickly, pushing in between your lips with ease. 
you suck efficiently to clean him up and toji hums in approval, petting your hair. 
there’s an instant where you two look in each other’s eyes and that’s all there is, your fucked out brain forgetting everything except for his touch. 
“ahh,” then a merry voice breaks you out of your trance, its owner casting a shadow over both your bodies as he stands in front of you. “i hate to ruin the moment, really, but…”
the man points his thumb over his shoulder.
the race is over.
horse number four came in at fourth place. 
how fitting. 
his partner approaches and there’s no denying it, they’re extremely attractive. individually, yes, but maybe even more so together, side by side, looking like opposites who came together due to being... likeminded.
but still. are they really going to—
“collect,” the other one says, sternly, with his hands up like he’s a good guy. “satoru. we’re just here to collect. no need to rub salt in the wound.” 
toji chuckles, but you catch the way his shoulders tense. 
“hey, a deal’s a deal. but no wounds here,” he looks at you briefly before squinting up at them. “doubt you two kids can do half the damage.”
that i can is left unsaid. you fight hard to keep the horrified look off your face. 
toji was already pimping you out to these random men, essentially. did he have to provoke them, too?
you resent the fact that the dread in the pit of your stomach isn’t big enough to push away the arousal growing next to it. 
there’s another reason why you and toji fit so well together, after all. 
the taller one — satoru — laughs, and this one’s genuine.
he reaches out tentatively, as if he were petting a stray cat, and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. 
toji looks at him in understanding, in agreement. 
when he doesn’t react any further, satoru’s finger trails down to your lips, still glistening wet. he traces them, jutting his own out in a pout. 
“she better be worth every penny you cost us, zen’in.”
toji smirks.
you notice the other man, the one with black hair and a bun, is hard in his tailored slacks. 
you swallow down the last of your sobs.
“oh, she is," toji's hand gives your thigh a departing tap. "i might have shit taste in horses but i know how to pick my sluts."
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yuuuhiii · 6 days
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can i get a jjk matchup for a reader who always tends to put herself down in order to make others look better; she does it out of the kindness of her heart, but everyone’s got a sneaking suspicion that she genuinely thinks of herself as less. even so, she’s usually the one to bring life to a party, and is often described a ball of sunshine :3 TYSM
i match you with SUGURU GETO ᥫ᭡
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You had a habit.
A habit that Suguru never liked.
When he wasn’t goofing off with Satoru he’d be reserved and in his head.
Or his favorite, admiring you.
He’d always watch from afar as you’d converse with Shoko or Nanami, a small smile on his face. It’s not like he never talked to you, he did, he made an effort too. He didn’t really have to because you were a bright person. Always so positive and caring.
Suguru found everything about you endearing. Yet he hated how you viewed yourself. You’d talk so highly about your comrades, however when it came to yourself you never had good things to say. Always saying you needed to improve in this or were terrible at that.
He wished you could see yourself how he saw you. You were truly perfect to him and he’d do anything to protect you.
Suguru read you like an open book. He probably knew you better than you knew yourself. You were like Satoru, in a way at least.
You weren’t obnoxious and loud. You were kind and thoughtful. A smile that lit up his world and any room you were in. But he could see through it, the act you’d put up to disguise the ugly thoughts you had of yourself.
It pained him to see how sometimes you’d be laughing your heart out with Shoko, just to turn around and look almost empty.
Night creeps around and you were practically third wheeling with Suguru and Satoru. He was showing off, as usual. Proving how much cooler he was than Suguru.
“That’s amazing, you’re really strong Gojo.” He flicks his white hair and Suguru rolls his eyes.
“Don’t feed his ego. He doesn’t need it.” You gaze at him and Satoru laughs.
“You jealous Suguru?” Suguru would pout and turn away.
“I could teach you how to do it, you know, personal lessons.” Satoru gazes at you with playfulness, a small grin on his lips.
“Oh no! It’s fine, I wouldn’t be able to do that, I’m not strong.” You laugh but now Suguru is pouting for another reason.
“Well obviously, no one’s as strong as me.” He laughs again and you laugh along with him. However Suguru is staring straight at you, his brows furrowed. Satoru announces he’s gonna shower, trudging down the hallway.
“Why do you do that.” You turn to him and he’s upset, something you rarely see, at least towards you.
“Do what?” You softly smile and he almost caves.
“You’re always putting yourself down, like you’re lesser than us or something.” Your eyes widen just a bit, your hands fiddling with your shirt.
“No I don’t.” You laugh awkwardly.
“You do.” He says more sternly and you look ashamed.
“You’re a beautiful girl, inside and out, I wish you’d see that.” He says, a small blush on his face. You’re blushing as well, just the both of you sitting on the couch in the dormitory.
“I like you.” He mumbles and you turn to him.
He’s blushing even more and you feel yourself heat up. Then he turns to you with such gentleness in his eyes you’re captivated.
“I’d like to show you or prove it to you. If you’ll let me.” He whispers and you smile.
“I’d like that.” He mirrors your soft smile, the both of you leaning closer and closer.
“I’m gone for 10 minutes!” Satoru yells and the both of you shoot apart.
“I gotta say I didn’t think you had it in you.” Satoru laughs, rubbing the towel over his hair and the rest was history.
Suguru made it up with a nice date the next day.
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© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms
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teyums · 11 months
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a/n: cats are so funny because they genuinely think they’re doing something nice for you when they drop a mouse at your feet as an offering and it’s actually the opposite. i was watching my cat play with her little toy and it just brought the terrifying memory back to me bc WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WANT THIS? As soon as the idea came i wrote it, Neteyam just seems like the type LMAOO 😭
neteyam x human!reader
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It takes Neteyam quite a while to understand the difference between Na’vi women and human women, especially the difference in what you do and don’t like. But you can’t blame him, you don’t look like his kind, you don’t smell like his kind, hell, you don’t even dress like them.
The Na’vi’s behavior very closely resembles that of a house cat on earth— you’ve noted after studying how Neteyam’s emotions portray themselves through his expressive tail, how his ears dip when he’s angry or perk up when he’s excited, or how he purrs when you finally agree to sitting in his lap instead of your chair while you finish up your work for the day. With the innate behavior of the two creatures mirroring each other almost completely, it’s no surprise that this also heavily factors into what they deem as ‘gifts’ for their favorite human.
Just as housecats will fetch their humans dead animals or rodents as an offering to them, the Na’vi way isn’t too far from that. You hated so much as looking at dead animals, let alone being near them, but when your childhood cat, Loki, used to bring field mice into the home and drop them at the foot of your bed, at least it was small enough for you to scoop into a grocery bag with pinched eyes and a hand over your nose while you fought back the tears of sheer terror.
Most of Neteyam’s catlike nature rendered adorable to you, and while you were more than willing to learn more about the ways of his people, this new custom he’d introduced you to had your heart dropping out of your ass like a brick and your soul exiting your body as if you could do without it. It’s when he shows up to the lab, a dead boar strung over his back with the biggest, toothiest smile you’ve ever seen spread on his lips until a bloodcurdling scream wipes it clean off his expression.
“Oh my God, ‘Teyam, get it away, get it away!” You shrill, so startled you almost tumble out of your desk chair, the hairs on your neck standing straight up as you divert your attention from the animal that’s almost the size of your body, a panicked hand splayed over your rumbling chest and the other extended out, palm towards him.
“What? You don’t like it? Should I have gone with a hexapede (deer) instead?” His brows gather in the center of his forehead when he steps closer and you immediately yelp and scoot back, the metal wheels of your chair screeching against the smooth tile with the effort of your retreat. He’s wholeheartedly confused, because any woman of his kind would find such a gesture as this one beyond thoughtful, and even romantic. Catching one of these things isn’t easy, and a clean kill with an arrow through the heart as to not rupture or damage the meat of the animal is even harder.
“I even skinned it for you!” He urges with a pout.
Your involuntary squeal interrupts his attempt to convince you as you fan your face with your hands, but it seems as if he’s still having trouble understanding.
“Perhaps I should have roasted it as well…” He ponders to himself with a hand pinching his chin, deep in contemplation while he keeps his catch over his shoulder and his eyes cast toward the wall, completely missing the way your trembling hands scramble over your desk for something to launch at him.
“GET IT OUT!”
He winces at the pitch of your shriek, astounded by how that loud of a sound could come out of such a tiny being. His brows raise before he quickly ducks to dodge the one-subject notebook that flaps past his head in a blur of fluttering paper, and he hurriedly obliges your wishes with a few steps back and a rushed ‘okay, okay!’.
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Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗
©teyums 2023
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theminecraftbee · 5 months
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Joel turns around. Martyn is standing there. His eyes are a burning red that gives Joel the heebie-jeebies. If anyone would know to be scared, it's Joel! He would! He'd recognize a mad dog if he saw one anywhere!
Anyway, all of that is to say that his high-pitched scream had been totally justified. "Oh my word Martyn what are you doing here?" he says, clutching his hand over his heart, several feet further back than he'd been thirty seconds ago.
Martyn snorts. "Is the sign not for me? Figured there was no one else it could be for."
"The what?"
"The sign."
Joel turns around. Outside his base, the other Mounders have hung a helpful banner: "SORRY EVERYONE YOU LOVE IS DEAD <3".
He'd told them it was kind of rude, hanging that up. Sort of made light of the whole thing, really. His wife and Mumbo and Jimmy had died, guys, don't be idiots about it. Bdubs had loudly told him that he was TRYING to be helpful, Joel, geez, why don't you appreciate his efforts? Pearl had shrugged and said they don't exactly make cards for this kind of thing. Joel's pretty sure they do, actually but...
Sorry everyone you love is dead. Hah.
"My wife is dead, Martyn," Joel says.
"Who, Lizzie or Jimmy?" Martyn says, weirdly dark. "Anyway, my husband's dead, so--"
"Your what?"
"Mumbo and I got married one time. Everyone forgets that for some reason."
Joel has to think about it a while. "Huh."
"Yeah. Anyway, you've still got the other Mounders, huh? Don't know what you're crying about. Thought the sign had to be for me. Thought I'd show up. Get cake. Kill some people. You know how it is."
"If there's a TNT minecart in my base, the first thing I do after I turn red is kill you," Joel says.
"That's not really how it works this time," Martyn says.
"Yeah, well, screw you," Joel says. "Also, they didn't make me any cake. I should ask them for that next. Hah. A cake."
"You know, maybe don't ask for that? Parties tend to go wrong in this game."
"And who's fault is that, huh?"
"Hey, don't look at me! Or, do. Since I'm going to kill everyone, on account of everyone I love being dead and all. Really convenient excuse for murder, that. I should use it more often, if it didn't involve the crippling grief," Martyn says.
"Oh, please. At least you tend to have people to love in the first place," Joel snaps.
"Oh, right, that is your curse, isn't it?" Martyn says. "Sorta broke it last time, but you do tend to get isolated and a bit crazy. Hey, I wonder if we're the ones who traded, actually what with the whole wolf thing."
Joel blinks. "What?"
"Oh, we're all cursed," Martyn says. "After all, They like it better that way. Hey, do you think Jimmy's curse transferred to Lizzie, got cancelled out by the fact Lizzie tends to die stupidly, or got broken? Personally, I'm thinking random fluke, when it comes to canary nonsense."
Joel stares at Martyn. His throat is dry. "What?"
Martyn stares back. "Hey, I'm the mad dog this time," Martyn says. "You probably shouldn't be the one growling."
"Well then, you should stop saying stupid shit," Joel says.
"Stupid? Please. It's obvious everyone is cursed. Nothing to be done about it but to play into the--"
"NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED," Joel shouts, his vision suddenly red and blurry in a way it shouldn't be when he's still on yellow. "NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED. THERE'S NO SUCH THING! YOU'RE JUST, JUST MAKIN' UP REASONS IT ISN'T ALL A TRAGEDY THAT EVERYONE I LOVE IS FUCKING DEAD, MAKING UP REASONS THAT IT--NO ONE IS CURSED! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST FUCKING HAPPENS! AND WOULDN'T IT BE BLUMIN' NICE IF THERE WERE A HIGHER POWER BUT THERE ISN'T SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT CURSES!"
He's panting. Martyn is staring at him. He stares back, a snarl on his teeth, the echoes of wolves and of grief, grief, grief, grief playing at the back of his throat.
"Joel?" Martyn says, hesitant.
"My wife is fucking dead. My best friend is fucking dead. One of my new possible best friends is fucking dead. Sorry about your husband, I guess? Get out."
"Bold thing to say to the guy who can kill--"
"I SAID GET OUT!"
Martyn stares at Joel a moment longer, and Joel finds he's not scared of the madness in his eyes at all.
Martyn leaves.
Joel realizes he's crying. The tears turn into giant, ugly sobs. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead.
"I blumin' hate caring about people," he says to no one at all through choked breaths, and he kicks a rock at the banner for good measure. It pokes a little hole through it and bounces off the dick-shaped tower behind it.
"Someone really should have made both of us a blumin' cake, they should," he says next, and he sits down until Pearl runs over, having heard the shouting. His face is red and his vision is still swimming. She stares at him, gathers him in her arms, and cries with him, and for the life of him, he doesn't know if that's any better.
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nicoline1998enilocin · 10 months
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Could you do an imagine with Steve rogers and yn where he takes her virginity smooth talk to her into it and she comes to shield quarters to drop off some stuff he left over and she over hears him talking to tony,Buck & the avengers a both the bet they made that Steve couldn’t f*ck yn and she gets heartbroken and uses her superpowers to fight against Steve when she barges in. Like throw him into a wall. I hope you get my concept (btw yn has powers also & she’s new to the shield inc as an avenger)
Betrayed
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PAIRING | Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 2.7K
SUMMARY | You're the latest addition to the Avengers, and Steve takes on a bet behind your back that he wouldn't be able to take your virginity. When you find out about the bet a few weeks later, you lose it and your superpowers rise to their full potential.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Steve being an asshole, swearing, smut [ loss of virginity, fingering, protected sex, massage turned to sex, light spanking ]
A/N | Hi nonnie, thank you so much for my very first request, I hope this is what you were looking for when you thought of the prompt! After all the love and many people requesting a part 2, I finally caved and you can find that right here! 🖤
Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜
Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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It has been a dream of yours ever since being recruited by SHIELD as an agent, to climb the ranks to becoming part of the Avengers. That dream finally became a reality and you were ecstatic when you found out you were accepted into the Avengers program. Right from the start all of the Avengers welcomed you with open arms, and you felt at home immediately, maybe a bit too much if you look back at it. During one of Tony's afterparties, you accidentally let it slip that you're still a virgin and that you wish you weren't anymore. There are some strange looks shared between some of the guys at your confession, but you decided to let it go at that time. Right now, however, you wish you hadn't.
After you went to bed that night, some of the guys got into a heated discussion about the fact that you're a virgin, and they all wanted to help you out. You know you're quite attractive - nothing over the top, but you take good care of yourself and it shows - so the fact that they all wanted to sleep with you wasn't much of a surprise. The fact that it was Steve who offered to do it first, did surprise every single one of the guys. ''No way you're taking her virginity, Cap. You have the sex appeal of a piece of grass,'' Clint remarked, which earned him a glare that wasn't all that nice. ''I think we should make a bet,'' Steve said, a mischievous look in his eyes.
''I want to make a bet if I can do it or not. If I win, I won't have to go on missions for a month. If you guys win, I will take one mission of your hands of your choice, each,'' Steve offered and they immediately agreed to these terms. And that is how Steve tried to talk you into his bed, which took more effort than he had anticipated, you weren't as easy as you made yourself sound that night. It took him a little over 5 months, but eventually, his hard work and patience paid off, for him at least.
~ 5 months later ~
You just went on a gruesome mission with all of the Avengers, and it was already late so instead of flying home now, all of you went to a hotel and spend the night. You had been incredibly frustrated for a while, and this mission was too much at this point. The mission ended up being successful, but Steve was being an asshole towards you the entire time, all to get under your skin for his gain, with the bet still in his mind. All the other Avengers quickly teamed up with the rooms, so your only option was to share a room with Steve, and you weren't happy with that. In the slightest.
''Guys, can any one of you please switch with me? I can't look at his face right now and I want to smack that smug grin of his fucking face,'' you say through gritted teeth, but they aren't helping one bit. ''Sorry doll, we always have the same sleeping arrangements and Steve usually sleeps alone, so you don't have a choice,'' Bucky said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ''You guys are unbelievable,'' you said and you opened the door to your shared bedroom, rushing in to get away from all of them.
''Don't mind them,'' Steve said when he followed you and you let yourself fall on your back on the bed. ''Maybe it's a good thing you and I are sharing a bedroom tonight, I had a plan to get both of our frustrations out of our systems,'' Steve said with an innocent look in his eyes. ''You do...?'' you ask him, unsure where he's going with this. ''Yeah, I find that a massage works well, get someone to rub all my frustrations away. I brought some massage oil that I could use on you if you want,'' he offered, and you were thinking about it. ''I'm gonna take a shower first though, I don't want to be disgusting when you massage me,'' you said.
When you were in the shower, Steve texted the guys' group chat that his plan would work, you agreed to a massage and he would most definitely be able to turn it around so he could fuck your brains out later that night. When you came back from your shower, you put your hair in a claw clip so it would be out of the way, and you noticed Steve already prepared his bed to be used as the massage 'table'. ''Please, lay down without the towel so I can reach your entire back with ease,'' he said with a small grin on his face, but you did it. You needed a way to get this frustration out of your body, and it was worth a shot. ''Lay down for me, baby,'' he said and you didn't even think twice about the nickname he gave you.
You did as he said and made yourself comfortable. ''No towel baby, that was it's easier for me to reach everywhere,'' Steve said and because you're lying on your stomach, you can't see the smug look he has on his face. He took the towel away and softly gasped at the sight of you, you were even more beautiful than he thought you'd be and he was very happy he got to do this. He put a little bit of the massage oil on your back and his hands before he started, rubbing it all over your shoulders and back first, just grazing your cheeks when he's rubbing it over your lower back, teasing you ever so slightly. After it's nice and spread out he starts putting some pressure and you let out a soft moan at the feeling.
''Mmh Steve, feels good,'' you softly moan and he smiles at the way you praise him, happy he can make you feel that good. ''Are you feeling better yet, baby?'' he asked and you nodded, letting out a content sigh. The fact that you're completely naked is long forgotten, you were very comfortable around Steve now with his hands running over your body like that. ''Got some more pressure points in my lower back you could massage,'' you tell him, it's always been a point that's bothering you and now that he was massaging you, it was the perfect timing to get help. ''Like this?'' he said as he put a bit more pressure on your lower back with his palms, moving from your spine outwards and down to your hips. This makes you groan, and in all honesty, a little turned on too.
When he's taken good care of your shoulders and back, he moves on to your calves and thighs. ''Time for these beautiful legs,'' he says as he silently takes off his shirt and pants, they were getting more and more uncomfortable now that he was getting pretty hard from just massaging you. He was standing in his boxer briefs and you didn't notice, completely taken over by pure bliss. He dripped a little oil on both your legs, stopping right beneath your cheeks and he put it to the side, ready for later. He started massaging at your ankles and slowly work his way up to your thighs, giving special attention to the tops, near your ass. His fingers slowly move up and when he's kneading and rubbing your ass, you let out a gasp which turns into a moan.
''S-Steve...'' you say but he quickly cuts you off, ''Shh, it's okay baby, this is normal,'' he says and he starts kneading more roughly, even going as far as landing a slap on both your cheeks at the same time, watching them ripple under his hands. ''Fuck, doing so good for me, baby,'' Steve praised you and you couldn't help but enjoy it, even though you knew in the back of your head it was still wrong. It was at that moment Steve couldn't take it any longer, and his hand wandered down between your thighs, cupping your dripping pussy. ''Hm, you're already dripping wet baby, 'm gonna take good care of you,'' he says as he slowly slides his fingers through your folds, giving special attention to your clit with his middle finger. You moan loudly at the feeling, your ass automatically lifting in the air at the feeling.
''Such a good girl for me right now, letting me take good care of you,'' he praised you and you started clenching around nothing. ''Steve, please,'' you whimpered, you wanted to feel his fingers inside you by now. ''What is it, baby? What do you need from me? Just say it and I'll do it,'' he says, whispering the words in your ear as he pushes your thighs further apart for better access. ''Need you, need your fingers inside me,'' you said shyly and he happily complied, immediately shoving 2 fingers deep inside your dripping entrance without warning. This makes you gasp loudly and grind your hips against his hand. ''How does it feel baby?'' Steve asks with a huge grin on his face while picking up his pace and curling his fingers so he can continue to stimulate your sweet spot.
''G-good, gonna cum,'' you moan as you keep grinding against his fingers. He uses his other hand to play some more with your clit and before you know it, you feel your orgasm wash over you while you moan out his name loudly. ''Yes, let everyone know who's making you feel this good baby,'' he said, knowing full well all the guys could hear what you were doing through the tins walls of the hotel. ''Fuck, feels so good,'' you say as you come down from your high. Steve pulls his fingers softly out of you before turning you over on your back, so he could massage the front of your body. He started with your legs, giving them the same treatment as when he massaged the back of your legs, but avoiding your sensitive pussy this time.
Next up is your stomach, which he drips some oil onto before massaging it deeply, so you let out soft whimpers, especially when his hands' ghost over the underside of your breasts, which were beautifully exposed for his viewing pleasure, your nipples still hard after your first orgasm. ''Those breasts look delicious baby,'' Steve cooed and it made you giggle a little bit before he softly grabbed them and massaged them, giving extra attention to your sensitive nipples. He noticed every single whine, whimper, and moan coming out of you when he played with them, either by rubbing, tugging, or softly flicking them, and he was reveling in the sounds that left your lips.
He finished with your upper chest and neck before leaning down and softly kissing you, which you have been longing for this entire time. He wasn't your first kiss, but he was by far the best you ever had, and you didn't hesitate when he slipped his soft, warm tongue in your mouth to explore every single inch of it. He sat down on the bed and removed his underwear, exposing his painfully hard cock, which was laying on your thigh as he took his place between your legs. ''Steve, condom please,'' you said. You were on birth control and this was your first time, but you weren't sure where he had been and didn't want to risk either getting pregnant or an STD, but Steve didn't mind, he always used one anyways.
He grabbed one from the nightstand - thank god he came prepared - and ripped open the foil before rolling it onto his hard length. ''Are you ready baby?'' he asked and you said yes, giving him a soft smile too. ''Need you inside me,'' you said and without a second to think about it, Steve was pushing himself into your entrance, the burning sensation quickly subsiding and making way for pleasure. He is very big and a lot to get used to, but in no time he was buried inside you completely, letting you get used to the sensation as he bent over, stealing soft kisses from your lips. ''Steve, please move,'' you beg softly and he does, going slow at first but slowly picking up the pace, making you moan louder every single time.
Sure, he may be doing this for a bet, but he was still mindful of the fact that this is your very first time, and he did want to give you the pleasure you deserve, and not go too rough at first. ''Steve, harder'' you beg, and with that, he quickly picks up the pace as you wrap your legs around his waist, so he can hit the deepest spots inside you. ''F-fuck, Steve, gonna cum-'' you practically yelled when your orgasm washed over you again, making your vision go temporarily black with the intensity of it, Steve followed quickly after with the chant of your name, and he buries his face in your neck as he spills his cum inside of the condom. ''Fuck, feels so good around me baby, such a good girl for me,'' he says before pulling out. The rest of the night is spent lazily making out and cuddling, before falling asleep in each other's arms.
~ 3 weeks after the mission ~
You and Steve talked about what happened that night and both agreed nothing more would come of it, it was just a one-time thing to get both your frustrations out and you would remain friends. He talked to the guys about it and they all heard, clapping him on his back and saying he won the bet fair and square, so they would pick up his missions for the next month. ''How was it?'' Tony asked and he told them all about the massage and how it felt to be buried balls deep inside you. They were still talking about the bet when you happened to walk into the room since you accidentally left some files in the living room you needed to prepare.
''Good job Steve, you won the bet fair and square, I didn't think you would fuck her but you earned it'' Bucky said as he got up, and immediately you realize they're talking about you. ''What bet are you guys talking about?'' you ask, and all the guys' heads snap in your direction. ''Y/N, hey...'' Steve said, his face becoming bright red. ''Did you guys seriously bet on if he was able to fuck me? You guys are fucking unbelievable,'' you snarled at each of them, but you're the most mad at Steve. ''You're such a dick, Steve, you know that?'' you yelled at him and you felt your powers come out, usually you tried to keep them hidden since they could cause quite a lot of destruction. ''Using me for a fucking bet?!'' is the last thing you said before you lifted Steve off his chair with your mind, using your telekinesis.
You slam him into the wall on the other side of the living room with your full force, making him go through it like the wall was made of a thin sheet of paper. ''Don't ever fuck with me like that again, or he won't be the only one on the receiving end of my powers,'' you say to the rest of the guys, and they quickly scramble away. To make Steve hurt even more, you walked over to him and made him squirm by giving him a head-splitting headache with your mind, as he grabbed his head to stop it. ''Y/N PLEASE STOP!'' he begged you, but you didn't. You want him to hurt just as much as you were. ''Oh no Rogers, you don't get to beg now, you earned everything I'm going to do with you,” Your power got out of hand and when Wanda walked into the living room, she managed to snap you out of it at the right time, if she didn't you would've killed him.
And just like that, your dream of becoming an Avenger is completely shattered.
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ryukatters · 4 months
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Seven (minus two) — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊
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⟡ summary: five different ways satoru fucks you just right. inspired by jk’s “seven.” happy birthday you sexy sexy man
⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader
⟡ content: smutty smut smut, semi public sex, he picks you up but cmon he’s the strongest for a reason, reader isn’t a sorcerer, oral (m&f receiving), body worship, degradation, gojo pulls reader’s hair, some dom/sub dynamics, refractory period is nonexistent, satoru is a slight exhibitionist and makes it everyone’s problem, omfg i just realized i made him a munch, gojo in handcuffs 😋 MINORS DNI
also i used one of @/jinsdumplingson’s prompts for scenario #3!
⟡ wc: 5k (LMFAO)
live laugh love gojo ✨
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i. You love when I jump right in / All of me I’m offering / Show you what devotion is — (body worship + exhibitionism)
You consider yourself to be a nice girlfriend, you really do. You pamper your boyfriend, prepare him lunch, and even make the trip to hand deliver it to him at Jujutsu High. And yet—
“Satoru, don’t even think about it. Or I swear to god—”
“Swear what, baby?” Even with the blindfold on, there was no mistaking the predatory glint adorning the eyes behind it.
Satoru had wasted no time dragging you into a random classroom the minute he greeted you at the campus entrance. For all the things that Satoru Gojo possessed, restraint (especially when it came to you) wasn’t one of them. He didn’t even have enough self-control to at least try and make it to his office.
What he did have though, was the nerve to shove the both of you in a room where anyone could pass by. Where anyone could hear the downright degenerate activities Satoru was going to coerce you into. 
And who was Satoru if not a fan of pushing the limits of how far he can get away with things? 
Your boyfriend stalks towards you. His boots clack against the wooden floors, echoing against the walls of the empty classroom. You find yourself taking a step back for each one he steps forward. The divide between the two of you seems to get impossibly smaller.
A gasp tumbles past your lips as the back of your legs hit the edge of a desk. Satoru smiles, the same one he gives when he knows he has you where he wants you, that he’s won the little game of cat and mouse you two play when he gets like this; consumed by a searing hunger that gnaws at his very core, one that can only be satiated by getting his fill of you. 
“Uh oh,” he gasps mockingly, giving you a faux look of surprise. “Looks like you’re done running.” Large hands wrap under your thighs before you’re being lifted up onto the wooden desk with ease. “And I’ve got you right where I want you.” 
“‘toru,” you gasp, trying (and failing) to protest as a last ditch effort to save the both of you some propriety. 
“Baby,” he murmurs, nipping at your jugular. “You look so beautiful, I just need to have you.”
“B-but, you have a meeting with Yaga right after—”
“Baby.” He deadpans, eyes boring straight into yours. “Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. And don’t say anyone else’s name when I’m about to go down on you.” He shuts down any and all protests by leaning down and capturing your lips with his. Calloused hands roam your body appreciatively, squeezing both of your tits and running his thumbs over the outline of your hardened nipples poking through the fabric of your top.
It’s not enough. He needs to feel you. Your clothes are in the way. Your head snaps down to look at your now exposed chest, mouth agape as you stare at your boyfriend whose eyes are filled with mirth. 
“God, look at you.”  
“Satoru, you just ripped my fucking shirt–”
“Shh,” he hums, easily covering your mouth with one hand to muffle any expletives thrown his way. “You’re worrying about the wrong things, princess,” his hand moves down to wrap around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter until you let out a choked moan. Satoru lets out a satisfied hum. “For example,” his free hand slides down to reach under your waistband, index finger rubbing along your slit. “This soaked pussy. Don’t you think she deserves a little more attention, baby?”
He doesn’t wait for a response. “I think she does,” laughing you jolt from the harsh slap he gives your clit. “So are you going to let me give her what she deserves or are you going to keep being a brat?”
Your response dies on the tip of your tongue. You stare up at Satoru, eyes blown wide with lust. You shake your head.
“Use your words,” he demands. “Don’t keep disappointing me, princess. Taught you better than that.”
“I…” you start, feeling the way your cheeks burn in humiliation. Satoru stares at you expectantly. “Give me what I deserve, ‘toru. Please,” you whisper.
A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Good girl.” 
Satoru litters a trail of kisses from your jaw down to your tits, mouth latching on to one as his hand squeezes the other lovingly. “I think you deserve everything and more, princess. So I’m going to give it to you.”
Satoru thanks his lucky stars that you decided to wear a skirt today. He runs his hands up and down your thighs appreciatively before flipping up the garment, revealing your panties that were surely stained with arousal. He presses a sweet kiss to your mound, sucking the fabric slightly. He thinks it’s such a waste for such sweetness to be lost to a flimsy piece of cloth. Nectar as sweet of yours deserves to be worshiped, and Satoru considers himself your most loyal devotee. He won’t allow any more to go to waste.  
“Can’t believe you were keeping this soaked pussy from me,” he sighs. “’s not very nice of you, baby.” 
You don’t get in so much of a peep before Satoru practically starts making out with your pussy. Satoru is gluttonous. He’ll take and take, especially if the dish on the table in question is you. He worships you with a fervor that could rival even the most pious of devotees. You manage to blow his mind every time. 
“Fuck,” you hiss, gripping to the edge of the desk for support. “That feels so good, baby.”
“Yeah? You were fightin’ me so hard earlier but look at you now,” he coos, “so ready to be a good girl for me.” 
Satoru flicks his tongue across your clit expertly before sucking on the sensitive nub. He feels his cock strain against the confines of his uniform pants as you trill beneath him. He knows you’re close based on the way your back is arching further and further off the desk. “You gonna cum, pretty?”
“Mhmm,” you slur. Your high comes crashing down on you in waves. You slap a hand against your mouth to muffle any and all sounds of pleasure as Satoru helps you ride out your orgasm. He pulls away when you start to pull away from overstimulation. The two of you don’t really have the luxury of teasing at the moment.
He’s nice enough to not let you beg for his cock. Satoru tends to have a sadistic streak and derives extreme pleasure in seeing you squirmy and embarrassed, begging for his mercy. 
But he thinks he likes you like this too— soft whines and whimpers, a voiceless plea for more. Afraid of being heard by passerby’s. The more possessive part of him is rearing, manifesting itself through soft caresses and searing lovebites. His mind turns to putty knowing that he’s the only one to see you like this, hear you like this, feel you like this. 
He slides in without much resistance. He muffles himself in between the juncture of your shoulder and neck, licking at the bite gingerly as a means of apologizing. 
Satoru doesn’t have any restraint when it comes to you. But he tries his damn hardest not to plow into you the minute he’s inside you. He gives a few shallow thrusts before picking up the pace. He fucks into you with rough, calculated precision. Your back starts to feel raw against the fine oak but you can’t find it in you to care. Not when Satoru is giving it to you so good.
Satoru is overwhelmed by the desire to be impossibly closer to you, to meld the two of you into one. So he does. He picks you up with ease. You let out a slight yelp as you feel yourself in midair, wrapping your legs around his waist on instinct. He fucks you like that, strong arms under your thighs as he lifts you up and down his length like a cocksleeve. 
“God, baby,” he moans, fingertips digging into the fat of your thighs. “Pussy’s pulling me in so tight. ‘s like you were made for me.” 
“Satoru,” you whimper, “‘m gonna cum.”
“Yeah?” His pace doesn’t relent. He only drills into you harder, each thrust hitting that sweet spot inside of you. “Cum for me, sweet girl.” 
You’re lucky to have enough wits in you to let out a soft cry instead of screaming out your boyfriend’s name. Satoru follows you soon after, riding out his own orgasm as he paints your walls white. He lays you back down on the desk before slumping over you, struggling to catch his breath. He gives you a quick peck before he slurs out, “You’re so perfect, you know that?”
Maybe you should bring him lunch more often. 
ii. Leave you with that afterglow (light bondage)
Satoru forgets just how downright cruel you can be. How his sweet girlfriend also has a little sadistic side to her that enjoys seeing him squirm. Maybe it’s because you’re the only one capable of doing so. 
He’s desperate to touch you, to hold you, to squeeze your body as you move on top of him. His hands twitch with need, but he’s stopped by two metal cuffs chaining him to the bed. Soft ivory wrists are marred by a slight red, evidence of his struggle. 
“B-baby,” he whimpers. His voice sounds unfamiliar even to him. The words spilling past his lips foreign to his own ears, “Fuck— please. More, I need more.” 
You’ve managed to reduce the strongest sorcerer into a blushing, blubbering mess.
Satoru doesn’t care that you’re making him go absolutely fucking stupid. He welcomes it, even. All he cares about is the way you’re swirling your hips, your sharp nails digging into either side of his neck, and whether or not you’ll spare him enough mercy to actually let him cum after being edged all evening. 
His moans ascend higher and higher in pitch as the coil in his stomach winds tighter and tighter. 
“God, just like that. Just like that,” he cries out.
“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” You ask sweetly. 
Satoru thought he reached enlightenment some time ago. But that moment pales in comparison to how he feels right now. Each passing second with you feels like you’re guiding him closer and closer to Nirvana with no respite. 
It’s not fair, Satoru thinks. It’s not fair that you know where he’s weak and for you to use that against him. 
“Y-yeah,” he gasps as you reach down one hand, fingertips grazing against his perineum. “For you, ‘s always for you, baby. Please, please let me cum.”
You stare down at your boyfriend, entranced by the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his hickey-stained neck and the way his flushed chest heaves. Satoru just looks downright pretty. Especially when he’s ruined.
“Cum for me, ‘toru,”
The tears that have been threatening to spill from his lash line all evening finally fall. He bucks his hips up to meet the way you bounce down on his cock. Satoru cries out your name as he fucks his load into you, ribbons and ribbons of cum painting your insides. Something inside Satoru breaks with the mind numbing orgasm you pull out of him. It’s replaced by something more carnal, more feral. 
Any and all restraint he has all but flies out the window, easily breaking apart the metal links of the handcuffs binding him to your headboard. His hands fly to your hips, fingers digging into the plush fat with a grip that’ll surely leave bruises come the morning. 
He’s honestly impressed he was able to hold out that long. 
“A-ah, ‘toru wait–” you cry out.
“Nuh-uh. You’ve had your fun,” he tuts, manhandling you until you’re on all fours. “Now let me have mine.”
iii. Take your phone and put it in the camera roll
Satoru Gojo is a lot of things. Overzealous, irresponsible with practiced precision, extremely doting, loud, boisterous, and all the other epithets that barely begin to scratch the surface on the illustrious strongest sorcerer. 
His very birth shook the entire country of Japan. His very existence is celebrated as the pinnacle of Jujutsu society. One would assume that the man would be the type to spend his special day in a fashion as grand as himself. He honors each and every one of his students and friends with such grandiose celebrations on their birthdays, so it’s safe to assume he’d hold the same standards for himself. Wrong. He’d much rather spend his day with you, in a much more intimate setting. A safe haven, of sorts, from the chaos and insanity that seems to follow him everywhere. He doesn’t get many days off, so being able to spend time with you is always a blessing no matter what day it is. So you can imagine the fit he threw when you told him to go grab dinner with his friends, and the even bigger fit he threw when he found out you wouldn’t be accompanying him.
With a promise that he’d get more than enough of his fill (of you) later on, you send your boyfriend off with a kiss on the lips that turns into a continuation of what you two have been up to all morning. 
He arrives late to his own birthday party in true Gojo fashion.
While Satoru can appreciate the sentiment, he’d much rather be spending the night with you. Alone. In bed. Or on the kitchen counter. Or in the living room. 
Although you took him out for brunch at this new restaurant with the fluffiest pancakes he’s ever had (he swears the sauce had crack in it), you told him his birthday wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t at least try and grab a few drinks with his friends.  He wanted to argue that being able to spend the whole day with you would have made him feel satisfied, but he could never say no to you. 
Which is exactly how he ends up at the local dive bar with some Tokyo and Kyoto peeps. Shoko will use any excuse to drink. So will Nanami, as long as it’s at Satoru’s expense (literally).
Today, 10:29 PM
baby
hey pretty boy u enjoying yourself? come home soon, okay? a little birdy told me your last present is waiting for you at home.
You
not much of a party if you’re not here to enjoy it with me, angel can i get a little hint? 🤪
baby?
baby
1 image delivered.
You
omw.
Satoru merely throws down a couple stacks (which is honestly more than enough to pay for everyone, but Gojo has no concept of how much things should cost) before hastily making his exit for the night. 
He doesn’t even bother ordering an uber. Because why should he waste any more time away from his precious baby when he could just teleport home? So he does, straight into your bedroom. You scream out in surprise. 
“Jesus fucking Christ Satoru—”
“You don’t get to use that tone with me, pretty girl,” he tuts, eyeing you hungrily, “especially when you’ve been hiding this from me.”
You needed to find a way to get Satoru away from you (which was a damn near impossible task most of the time) so you could figure out how to put on the whole ensemble.
The ‘this’ that Satoru was referring to was a dainty white lace lingerie set that leaves nothing to the imagination. What really takes the cake, however, is the giant baby blue ribbon nestled perfectly on the small of your back. You were wrapped up like his present. And Satoru thinks this is probably the best gift he’ll ever get in his life.
“On all fours, beautiful.”
You do as you’re told like a good girl. You really sell the show by arching your back, practically presenting yourself on a silver platter. Satoru feels his mouth water in anticipation. 
“Look here, baby,” Satoru commands. So you do. You realize that he has his phone out, hearing the telltale shutter of his camera. “For keepsakes,” he grins cheekily. 
He runs his hand along your backside appreciatively, stopping to squeeze your ass and spread you apart for his viewing pleasure. He thumbs at your puckered hole teasingly, letting out a mean laugh as you squeal.
He gives your pussy a few harsh slaps, fascinated by the strings of your arousal that collect on his fingertips. “That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you, barely even touched you and you’re already falling apart.” 
“‘toru, don’t tease,” you whine.
“Is that how I taught you to ask for things?” He gives your ass a rough spank, squeezing at the stinging skin.
You shake your head in the negative, lips wobbling. God, you look so pathetic it drives him insane. 
“Thought so. Tell me what you want, properly this time. And I might just give it to you.” 
“Please fuck me, ‘toru.”
“You want my cock, baby?”
“Need it,” you whimper. 
“Yeah?” he coos, bringing a hand to rub up and down your slit while the other works his lengths out of his slacks. “You gonna let me have my way with you? Do whatever I want with this pussy?”
You whine, nodding desperately. Satoru gives you a feral grin before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “Atta girl.”
“I’m going to fuck you so good that you won’t even be able to think about getting up tomorrow. Hope you’re ready, sweetheart. You’ve dug your own grave.”
iv. Come here, baby, let me swallow yo' pride (agoraphilia/exhibitionsism)
“Satoru—”
“Not my name.” 
“‘toru, w-wait,” you gasp, trying to push your boyfriend off as he litters your neck with bruises that’ll certainly make themselves known in the morning. He easily takes both of your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head, pushing you flush against the back of the door. The same door, mind you, that’s separating the two of you from the rest of his fellow sorcerers at their annual end of the year celebration. 
“Th-There are people outside this door—” 
“Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” 
Shameless. Absolutely shameless. 
“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, pressing his hips against yours. “Just this once.” You know it’s never ‘just once’ with Satoru. You fear for the state of your dress and makeup (along with your dignity) if you give into him right now. “You know I’ll make it up to you later.” 
“Your friends are in the other room. They’re going to hear us because you don’t know how to keep your stupid mouth shut.” You let out a choked moan as he slots one of his thighs in between your legs, providing some much needed friction for your aching center. 
“That sounds like their problem, if I’m being honest.” 
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously handsome? Persuasive? Oh baby, I know.” 
“And an idiot.”
“I’m a genius.” 
You roll your eyes with a sigh. “You better make this quick.”
Satoru releases your wrists, grinning as you run your hands up and down his chest before dropping down to your knees. You make quick work of his belt and pants, palming at his cock that’s already started leaking precum through his underwear. “That all depends on you, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s time to put that bratty mouth of yours to good use.”
He pushes his weepy tip past your lips with a soft groan. You lick at the slit just the way he likes and Satoru has to hold back a shudder.
“This is your fault, y’know,” he growls, hands finding purchase in the locks of your hair— which you worked very hard on, by the way. “You just look so pretty. It’s almost like you were asking for it.”
A pathetic whine escapes past your throat, muffled by Satoru’s cock. Satoru shudders from the vibrations. 
“That’s it, baby. Fucking choke on it.” He lets out a broken moan as he feels your throat constrict around his cock. You just feel so good. “God, I’m gonna cum. You’re going to make me cum.” 
His hands weave themselves through your hair even tighter, as if he’s trying to find something corporeal to anchor himself in the midst of this surreal storm of pleasure. 
Your head bumps against the wooden door rhythmically in sync with how Satoru fucks your throat. It’d probably hurt if not for Satoru’s hands protecting the back of your head. If your friends weren’t sure what you two were doing before, they definitely knew now.
Satoru doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed that he finishes in record time, not when your tongue is pressed taut against the underside of his cock.
Your nails dig into the flesh of Satoru’s strong thighs, leaving indents against the freshly pleated satin of his dress slacks. 
You’re struggling to take it all. He watches in fascination as a mix of his cum and your spit starts to dribble out of the corners of your mouth. He pulls out of you with a hint of hesitation, immediately missing your warmth while you try and catch your breath. Satoru wipes the cum threatening to drip off your chin with his thumb before pressing the digit against your tongue. It’d be such a waste for it to go anywhere else, after all. 
“Swallow it.”
You stare up with him with a lustridden expression as you do what you’re told. 
God, you were always so good for him. It’s enough to make him hard again. He intends to make good on his promise to make it up to you very soon. But not here.
He fixes the both of you up to make yourselves somewhat presentable before exuberantly announcing your guys’ departure in true Satoru fashion. You’re privy to the looks of disdain painted on Utahime and Nanami’s faces (mostly directed towards your boyfriend), but you can’t find it in yourself to care as Satoru slides an arm around your waist and pulls you against him.
“Let’s go home.” 
v. Got you skippin' work and meetings (slight exhibitionism)
One perk about your job is the ability to work from home. No need to wake up early to get ready, sit in traffic, or deal with awkward and redundant watercooler chats with your older coworkers trying to relate to today’s generation. You have the luxury of working from your home office, with no one to pester you while you slave away at your computer. 
Satoru bursts into the room with a cheerful, “Hi baby!”
Everyone except for Satoru, of course.
“Hi...” you whisper, not bothering to face your boyfriend. “I’m about to start my meeting, ‘Toru. I’ll come out once I’m done, ‘kay?”
If you were paying more attention, you’d hear the grumble and see the petulant pout that forms on Satoru’s face at your dismissal. 
“Can I sit next to you, at least?”
You keep a chaise next to your workstation for when you want to plop down after a few hours of mind numbing work. Or for times when your extremely clingy boyfriend feels like bothering you while you’re on the clock. 
“I’m not bothering you!” He had said once. “I’m keeping you company. Isn’t that nice of me?” 
You side-eye him with a look that obviously says no, and Satoru pouts even harder. 
But as always, Satoru finds a way to coerce you into getting what he wants. He’s pretty sure you said ‘no’ to him sitting on the chaise, but that doesn’t mean it’s a ‘no’ to him sitting in general, right?
He plops down on the floor under your workstation. He thanks himself for buying you one of those height adjustable desks.
You spare him a quick glance. He almost looks ridiculous with the way he’s hunched under you, cheek pressed against your knees as he hugs both of your legs, pouting. 
There’s a joke you want to make about how your boyfriend is akin to an overgrown lap dog with how clingy he is. But you hold your tongue and decide to at least try and pay attention to your computer screen as you enter your debrief. 
You can practically hear the pout that’s painted on Satoru’s face with your lack of attention. That just won’t do for him. 
He’ll just give you a reason to pay attention to him. That’s fine. Satoru knows how to work for what he wants. And right now, he wants your thighs to suffocate him. 
You try your best to focus on what your manager is saying, you really do, but whatever corporate jargon spewing past his lips is lost on you as Satoru moves underneath you, inching himself closer and closer to you while also subtly maneuvering your rolling chair until his face is just shy of being in between your legs.
You want to curse yourself for deciding to stay in your sleep shorts today. Satoru, on the other hand, feels like rejoicing in the fact— because now you’ve just made it so much easier for him. Accessible, even. 
He pries your legs open, ignoring the way you try your best to keep them shut. He bullies his broad shoulders between them, preventing any further movement aside from spreading them even further. He examines the fading bruises and love bites littering your inner thighs from your previous sexcapades throughout the week. They’re looking a little too dull for his liking. Satoru decides you’re in desperate need of a touch up.
He pulls your shorts and panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt. A mix of pride and lust swell within him to know that you’re always ready for him despite your efforts to convince him otherwise. Satoru’s mouth automatically waters in a Pavlovian response. He works his way up your plush thighs, savoring the warm, silky flesh on his tongue as he suckles deep bruises into them.  
“Satoru,” you hiss, lacing your fingers through soft white locks before tugging on them harshly. You pull Satoru away from you, his lips leaving your inner thigh with a loud pop. 
“Behave.” 
You barely move your lips, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to you on your coworkers’ screens. 
It’s a warning if Satoru’s ever heard one. Unluckily for you, Satoru’s way too used to getting his way, brushing past warnings with an air of practiced defiance, paying no heed to any signals for him to concede. (“Signs can’t stop me because I can’t read!”)
Your words do nothing but go straight to his cock. That, coupled with the way you tug at his hair has a moan stumbling straight past his lips without warning. 
You quickly glance at your screen and release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding upon confirming that you are indeed on mute. You don’t need your colleagues hearing your whore of a boyfriend moaning like a pornstar in the middle of your weekly recap meeting. 
You quickly turn off your camera. They wouldn’t miss you for a few seconds, right? 
“I thought I told you to behave.” The hand that was previously gripping Satoru’s hair clamps over his mouth. “Either you stay and be quiet or you leave.”
Cerulean orbs lock with yours before you feel something wet— a tongue, swipe along the inside of your palm. You draw your hand back with a curse, wiping off the saliva with your shirt. 
“But babyyy,” he whines, wrapping his arms around your legs and resting his head on your thigh. He looks up at you with his best puppy eyes. You know Satoru well enough to recognize the lustful glint underneath the seemingly innocent gaze. “I haven’t seen you all day, s’not fair. I just miss you.”
“It’s been 4 hours, Satoru.” 
“Even one second not being by your side feels like an eternity,” he laments. An overstatement, but Satoru holds every ounce of that statement true in his heart and soul. “I’ll make it quick, promise. Just need to have a little bit of you and I’ll leave you alone.” 
Satoru isn’t a beggar. But he’ll be anything you need him to be, especially if it means getting a taste of you. 
You both know he won’t leave you alone. The both of you also know that Satoru knows how to work his mouth and your body. He’s already bringing his lips to your clit before you can even nod. 
“Good girl.” 
Satoru makes out with your pussy sloppily, dragging his tongue along your clit and inside your fluttering hole. His eyes roll back into his skull as you weave your hands through his hair, tugging harshly. Satoru’s brain is practically fried as you squeeze your thighs on either side of his head. His cock throbs against the confines of his sweatpants, tip staining the gray fabric. He palms himself to provide some friction, imagining that it were your hands touching him instead. 
“T-toru, I’m so close,” you cry. Satoru laughs meanly.
“Yeah?” he coos, long fingers working their way inside your dripping pussy. “You’re so sensitive. We just started and you wanna cum already?” 
“Please.”
“Told you we’d be quick. Cum for me, princess.” 
He doesn’t let up as you clench around his fingers. He fucks them into you even faster, making sure to hit that spongey little spot in you with each thrust. He sucks your clit until you’re shaking, refusing to let go even as you try to pull away. 
Once he’s decided he’s tortured you enough, he pulls back ever so slightly, reveling in your debauched look. It would’ve been even better if you’d accidentally left your camera or microphone on, so everyone could know how good Satoru gives it to you. (He’s seen a few flirtatious messages from your coworkers via Slack.) Oh well, that’s just an opportunity for next time, he supposes. 
He doesn’t bother leaving. To your surprise, (and Satoru’s delight) your team wraps up as soon as you turn your camera back on. A few beats pass by before he breaks the silence. “It’s technically your lunch break, right? How about we finish what we started?”
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a/n: i need him in a way that is devastating to mankind. also satoru may be the king of quickies but don’t let that fool you into thinking he can’t go all night
Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost, translate, or recommend my works on TikTok.
513 notes · View notes
totheblood · 1 year
Text
jealous!ellie headcanons
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a/n: these are modern headcanons sooooo... and this isn't jealous gf ellie, this is pining loser lesbian ellie... lol also super inspired by the talented @rxllingstones and @whore-era after reading their amazing fics tonight... pls go read them.. and for u fiends... there is ai audios at the bottom... more uploaded on sc bc tumblr hates me
ellie is incredibly hard to read
or at least that's what she tells herself
it's almost written all over her face how much she hates the people you date when she's in a five-foot radius of them
she tells herself she doesn't care (she's lying) but she can't ignore how her grip tightens when she sees you lip-locking some loser you met at a party
but she always finds herself at your side, pulling you away from them and back into the corner with her
"hey there, pretty girl. having fun?"
"i was until you cock-blocked me."
"there wasn't much to block... i heard his dick's small."
but the curse of having feelings for you was that you were always dating someone
it always comes up when the group goes out to dinner and the topic of who you're dating comes up
like it does every week...
"i actually really like him for you" dina shares, a genuine smile on her face
"yeah, dude's cool" jesse agrees, slinging his arm around dina in the booth
and then all the attention is on ellie as you stare at her with your wide eyes waiting for her approval
"what? you know you're not going to like what i have to say." she says taking a sip of her dr. pepper
yes ellie drinks dr. pepper
"cause you hate everyone i date!" you reply, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout
it was clear you were slightly tipsy but your face still made ellie smile
"yeah, cause you only date fucking losers." she would say smile on her face but anger blooming inside
ellie tries to be mature but she can't help herself
what makes it worse is that you really do date literally everyone except for her
so she doesn't really make an effort to be nice to the people you introduce her to
one time the same guy came around twice and all ellie could say was "oh it's this fucking guy again! hey man, glad to see you made it to a second date."
you scolded her after
but in her defense, you really are with someone new each week
until it's been three weeks and you're still dating the same girl
and ellie is a fucking mess
you started inviting her out to group hang outs and smoke sessions so ellie just stops showing up
she doesn't like the way it feels when her stomach flips upside down at the sight of you sitting on her lap, a beer in your hands
so she decides to opt-out, get high alone and avoid seeing you as much as possible
but it's short lived because your drunk ass is banging on her door
"ellie, let me in!" you yell over the tv playing from inside her dorm room. "i hear you watching shark tank!"
reluctantly, she gets up and opens the door for you
"can i help you?"
"yeah you can fucking help me. you can help me by telling me why you've been MIA for the last few parties. i miss you." you don't miss a beat and are already storming past her and sitting on her unmade bed
"you miss me? does arcadia know about that? you missing me?"
"is this seriously about you not liking another partner of mine? seriously ellie? grow up. you're supposed to be my friend and support me but you have done any of that?" it was obvious you had been hanging onto that for a while
she'd laugh but upon seeing your stone cold face her anger would rise
"oh, you're fucking serious. are you really that blind? you really think i want to be your fucking friend? i mean, my god i couldn't have made it clearer for you. i like you! like actually like you, like i want it to be my lap that you sit in. not hers. every person you have ever dated i have wished was me! but nooo, you just don't seem to notice."
she doesn't even realize it but she's shaking
she's actually just confessed her three year crush on you without even thinking about it
"ellie..." you begin, a worried look all over your face
"no, i don't really have it in me to get rejected by you tonight so please just go." she cuts you off, unable to meet your eyes
but then you're there next to her holding her shaking hand
"i'm not rejecting you, ellie." you whisper
"you're not? what about your little girlfriend."
"this might be absolutely toxic of me to say but... she's not you." you giggle
"you're absolutely right it's fucking toxic to say that…. but it's also EXTREMELY fucking hot."
ai audios:
extra ai audios:
there wasn't much to block..
oh, it's this fucking guy again!
oh you miss me?
you're not? what about your little girlfriend
you're right it's toxic to say that...
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angelsheartts · 21 days
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hiii idk if requests are open so either have this as a silly little thought or a request <33
lucifer and (ideally gn/male) reader have been flirting for a little while and then one day lucifer finally asks reader out, but they reject him
he’s super confused thinking he may have misunderstood their whole dynamic until he overhears reader telling someone at the hotel the reason he rejected lucifer is because reader feels like lucifer would never be able to love them as much as he loved lilith/doesnt want lucifer to use them as a rebound
overall i was hoping for hurt/comfort but whatever rows your boat, love your stories and i hope to see more of them in the future !! have an amazing day <3
.° ༘ THE OTHER WOMAN ᝰ.ᐟ .
#pairing: lucifer, x gn reader.
#cw: angst, fear of being the second choice, lucifers backstory with lilith, starting something new, accepting that relationships come to an end, happy ending 'cause im not that mean hehe (at least not yet).
#note: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SM, i haven’t wrote any angst in my blog BUUUT i love it, this request is mwuah.
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everyone at the hazbin hotel knew that lucifer had been courting you for the past few months, everyone except you.
or, well, that’s what the sinners at the hotel thought, at least. you obviously knew that the king of hell had been flirting with you, and at the beginning, you almost fell head over heels for him, until indecisive thoughts started to fill your head.
"was he REALLY flirting with you?", "why would he still be wearing his WEDDING ring if he had been flirting with you?", "will he ever LOVE you like he loved lilith?", "will his daughter even ACCEPT your relationship?"
as soon as those thoughts started appearing, you started distancing yourself from the fallen angel, sadly for lucifer he had already started to get the courage to officially ask you out on a date.
the king of hell wasn’t an idiot; he noticed how you started to make up excuses to not talk to him alone or how you weren’t really responding to his flirting anymore, but decided to be stubborn and brush those thoughts off.
-
as soon as you received a text from lucifer saying he would pick you up around eight, you knew he was planning something, and as soon as you saw him all dressed up, nicely done hair and his prideful smile showing on his face, you knew what was coming, but who were you to not appreciate his efforts? if you knew that it was going to end someday, why wouldn’t you enjoy the moment? yes, you were being a fool for accepting his offer, but having a tiny crush on him wouldn’t hurt you, right?
after having a nice and really luxurious meal at a restaurant in hell, lucifer guided you to an actually peaceful spot where you could see all of the pride ring. ironic. who would even think that hell has a peaceful place, one where you should feel relieved, but why weren’t you feeling that way? was it because you knew what was to come?
"(name), is everything alright?" lucifer interrupted your thoughts with his angelic voice, or could you say demonic? at the end of the day, he was still an angel, just a fallen one. "mmh? yeah, i was just..lost in my thoughts i guess" you answered, admiring his glowing red eyes shining in the dark. "oh, okay" he said, letting a nervous laugh come out. "i think there is something i need to tell you, (name)" lucifer said, this time his voice had a serious tone. "i thought that after lilith I couldn’t get to love again, but heavens was i wrong. i had the chance to get to know you this past months, and…you've changed my life in that short time." he started, giving a sincere smile "would you want to be my partner?" he asked, fidgeting with his fingers as you stared at him.
oh, well, that question made you nauseous. "i-, i don’t think i want that, lucifer" ouch, that hurt his pride."I think it’s time for me to go, i’m sorry" you said in a quiet tone, standing up and leaving him there, and as much as you didn’t wanted to look back, you did, but the only thing you could see was lucifer in the same position as when you stood, this time though, he was hugging his knees staring at the view you both were looking at just a few minutes ago.
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since his confession about his feelings towards you, he hasn’t been in the hotel, and the cast started to suspect that it has to do with the date you had with him. charlie was the most preoccupied, since she had been the one to encourage his dad to finally ask you out. she tried texting his dad to ask him about your response, but the king of hell just responded with a "it didn’t go as planned, but don’t worry about it, char-char."
after that text charlie obviously knew that his father was feeling bad about whatever happened that night, and would isolate himself from the others, so for her attempts to not let that happened she kind of tricked you into visiting him, she asked you about the date, and since you kind of lied to her by telling her that the date went as normal as a date should go, she then answered by saying something along the lines of "if that’s so, would you mind reminding him that he needs to come to the hotel?"
you could write lucifer a text message telling him to come to the hotel, but since you literally ran away that night, you forgot that your cellphone was laying somewhere near to where you both were sitting, so yeah, you did in fact lost it.
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going to his mansion was a really weird feeling, what can you even say after rejecting someone? would he even open the door? as you were lost in your thoughts again, you heard the front door open, and as you made your way into his house it wasn’t really hard to find his bedroom.
as you knocked before opening the door, the first thing you noticed was how lucifer had his bedsheet covering him, it made you smile since you noticed how charlie did that too, so you could guess she got that from her father.
there was a silence as you both stared at eachother, until lucifer decided to interrupt the silence. "i-, i-i’m sorry about what happened, i think i might had misunderstood our relationship" he confessed, his messy hair and dark eye bags made you worried "it’s okay lucifer, and about that night..there is still something i haven’t told you about my answer" you declared, making him look at you with such hopeful eyes, oh hell, how can such a prideful fallen angel have so much faith in what you were going to say. "i said I didn’t want to take it further, since i still believe your heart belongs to lilith, and because of that i thought that rejecting you would be the best option." he opened his eyes at the mention of his past lover. "but, me and lilith haven’t been dating since seven years, (name) what me and her had is long gone" he reassured you, while signaling you to sit on his bed, the king bed who looked so comfy yet so empty. "lilith still is an important person in my heart, she has been with me since beginning of humanity and is the mother of my daughter, but the persons who’s my heart belongs now is you, my love" after hearing those words you could feel your eyes fill with tears, of course lilith was gonna be an important person in his life, but why would that stopped you from being in his heart as well, were you being selfish all this time? wanting to be the only person who’s important to him?
"and, this time i haven’t been at the hotel, i thought about why you said no, and i think i may have noticed something" he said, getting out of his bedsheets and caressing your face, you could feel your face burn at his touch, yeah, you really have missed him, "you were always staring at my wedding ring, weren’t you?" he asked looking at you with a glum face, yes, you do recall looking at his wedding ring while he looked at you with loving eyes, the ring that made you doubt so much about his feelings towards you, "i was a fool for wearing my ring while flirting with you, and if my ring has made you have those doubts about our relationship, you should know that i had decided to take it off" after hearing those words, you noticed that he was right, you haven’t noticed until now, you didn’t feel that cold ring against your face. "and if you still willing to try, i’m sure that soon enough i will be using a ring who will be showing who my heart really belongs to"
"that’s so cheesy" you answered chuckling, you tried to jokingly ignore the fact that he just said he would propose you, because if you took it serious you were sure that your face would be as red as the famous apple, actually, you were sure that if he offered you the 'fruit' you would have accepted, wait, were you even thinking about a fruit? but anyways your angel needed reassurance from you, that in fact, you liked his cheesy words. "yes, i still want to have you in my afterlife, lucifer" "well, if that’s my future’s wife/husband wish, then, who am i to object?" the fallen angel winked at you before starting to teasingly kiss your whole face, the moment he started doing this, you noticed something you didn’t thought you could, you felt like his first option, not just a rebound.
and yes , it will be a long journey until he really overcomes his past relationship with lilith, but since he's willing to do as much for you as you would do for him, you both will soon overcome your fears of past experiences.
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