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#just a puff and pass not the whole thing
ohimsummer · 4 months
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LOWKEY, SHE’S SO SWEET ft. SUGURU GETO
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— minors dni, light angst?, suguru x fem! reader, penetrative sex, mention of gojo x reader (one kiss), slight dumbification, nipple play, biting/hickeys, making out, lovesick! suguru, what could’ve been a creampie, pussy taps, dry humping, reader gets a little flustered (duh it’s suguru), pussy whipped suguru ?, a little proofread
wc 3.3k
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Gojo had a lot of bad habits. Eating an over abundance of sweets, not taking things seriously, hiding his feelings, along with procrastinating and, more importantly, avoiding things he shouldn’t.
“Since when were you such a coward?,” Shoko asks and elbows him in the ribs.
He faces away, a lip jutted out as he mumbles a response. “‘M not a coward, I just don’t like her in that way.”
Suguru stands nearby, lighting a cigarette as he eavesdrops on the conversation. The lighter falls deep into his pocket, while he’s wondering how he could have such an absolute idiot as his best friend. People who don’t like someone else ‘in that way’ don’t get butterflies when they kiss that person, but he digresses. If Gojo wants to let you go and keep denying his own feelings, so be it. Suguru will gladly swoop you up and make you his own. Ever since that kiss you and Satoru had shared, one the former was adamant meant nothing because he definitely wasn’t in love with you, the two of you had been avoiding each other for a few weeks now. Well, Gojo was avoiding you. Geto discovered through Shoko that you just didn’t want to force him into anything, putting Gojo’s feelings above your own and essentially condoning his childish actions—and that you were struggling to come to terms with the fact that you’d wasted your first real kiss on someone who apparently thought you meant nothing special.
A week after the incident, Geto was over at your place again, as he often was since you two did hang out a lot. Shoulders drooped, the usual playfulness in your voice is gone, he never gets a good look at your face and that’s on purpose. At that point, it was too hard to conceal your emotions about the whole thing—Geto can read you like an open book, and the conversation wouldn’t be worth the heartache. You’re nothing like yourself. If he’s being honest, Suguru’s annoyed and a little bit jealous that you’re this way over his friend. He could treat you so much better. He’s not the type that needs to be pushed so hard just to admit his feelings; the type to just up and pretend his friend of almost a decade doesn’t exist anymore over one kiss.
It’s not like Geto was being unfair here. He’d been eyeing you for years already, anyway, stuck watching you pine after—and now, lose sleep over—his snowy-haired best friend. Almost two months had passed, and this was the final straw to push Geto over the edge. If the strongest sorcerer in the world was going to waste both his own and your time, then Geto would move things along himself.
“Glad your mission went well.,” Suguru says as you usher him into your spacious apartment, coming to check on you after an especially grueling curse you’d been assigned to kill.
“Oh yeah, easy-peasy.,” you laugh. Your hand waves through the air as if swatting away a fly. “Didn’t even break a sweat.”
He’s used to this, your bravado after every mission, regardless of how dangerous it actually was. Something to lighten the mood after just putting your life on the line. You’re similar to Gojo in that aspect, only the tiredness behind your words and expression is far more evident, but you power through regardless. Calm and collected as ever, pouring yourself a glass of milk and gesturing a chilled water bottle at your guest in offering. Geto rests on the couch with an arm slung over the back as he watches you toss the half-empty jug within the fridge, before prancing over to him with a playful grin.
“Milk?” An airy chuckle puffs from his lips.
Your eyes narrow as you toss the bottle into his lap, your own glass hesitating before your mouth. “Listen, I had a craving while I was out, and it’s going to help my bones grow. I have to catch up to you and Gojo somehow.”
Your silly comment elicits a tugging at Suguru’s lips, ignoring again how you’ve started using his friend’s last name. There’s a flicker of discomfort that crosses your features at the thought of Gojo—he’s noticed your sudden unease at the mention of the sorcerer—before you’re chugging the milk in swift gulps. Geto sees the tension, traces of it at least, leave you through the relaxation of your shoulders.
“So,” you lower the glass just a little, tongue swiping the milk mustache below your nose. “Wanna watch a movie? You don’t have a mission tomorrow, right?”
A shake of his head. “Nope. I’m all yours for the night.” His cheeky words brings a warmth to your face.
Geto lets you pick the movie, giving in to you like he usually does, and accepts the invitation to sprawl out on your bed upstairs. It’s more spacious than the couch, and also adorned with various plushies to protect you both from the frights of the dreadful movie about to play. It’s a typical psychological horror—filled with cheap jumpscares and agonizing suspense in the form of characters lingering through the shadows. He’s never seen this film before, so Geto should be paying attention because he knows you like to discuss after, but he just can’t. Not with both your sides pressed together and the heat of your body radiating onto him, or when your head lolls against his shoulder, face half-hidden behind the fuzzy dog plush in your arms.
It’s sweet, the way you jolt when a character springs from behind a corner, squealing in fright, lowering just a little further behind the stuffed animal. His heart races a little faster when you cower against him, eyes soften a little more at your goofy comments about the idiotic choices of the cast members. You, laughing at your own words, which makes him laugh in turn, and Suguru feels like he’s just falling more in love with you and your being.
Another hair-raising scene occurs, and Geto slinks a comforting arm around your shoulder, face growing warm when you shuffle to sink further into him. From the corner of his eye, he can see the fear written on your face. It’s amusing and just endearing really, how you’re seemingly more frightened by the fake movie monster than an actual cursed spirit. His hand snakes over your face to cover your eyes, fingers spread so you may peek through, and Geto chuckles when you scrunch your nose up at him.
“Are you trying to say I look scared–!”, The accusation barely leaving your mouth before a loud gasp erupts from your throat, the source of your shock being the sudden loud noise of a bookshelf falling in the movie. Alas, your boldness is thwarted by another cheap scare.
“Ah, silly me. Of course not.” Geto’s voice is mocking as he brushes hair from your face. “So fearless, I can tell.”
“Shut up, that doesn’t count, you distracted me.”
He laughs again. “Oh, so you’re gonna pin that reaction on me?”
You mumble into the stuffed dog something unintelligible, face half concealed against Geto’s chest. His hand falls to rest on your shoulder, drawing circles and then hearts into the warm skin of your body. You squeeze an arm behind yourself to wrap around him, giggling when he turns to glance at your smaller hand on his other side.
“So you won’t be scared the rest of the movie.,” you tease with a toothy grin.
“Me?” He thinks you’re ridiculous in the cutest way. “I haven’t jumped once.”
“Yeah, whatever, you’re lucky I was too busy watching the movie to notice you shivering over there.” The faint smell of his cologne is intoxicating from this distance. “Your heart’s probably pounding right now.”
It is, Geto thinks, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Less of the movie, and more of your pretty face inches from his. The film continues playing on your laptop, a scene shot at night and through the dark screen, Geto admires you in the reflection. Those wide, doe-eyes seemingly hyper-focused on what’s in front of you, darting to take in everything on display—maybe you’d find an Easter egg in this shot, some reference to another movie, perhaps? Your breathing hitches when a sound makes the main character twist to look behind them, and Geto finds himself hugging you just a little bit tighter.
“I’m fine, y’know.” You huff the sentence out at him, catching his curious gaze through the dark reflection of your laptop. “Why are staring at me like that?”
Your head raises, turning to confront him. Amongst the love in Suguru’s eyes, you see hints of fondness, soft and subtle as he studies you. And behind that, something else that’s not so innocent. It all intrigues you.
“Got something on your mind, Suguru?”
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This was supposed to be happening with Gojo. Or you’d originally hoped it would, anyway.
The movie was long forgotten, laptop dark as the credits had ended a while ago. The device teetered along the edge of your bed before falling, luckily cushioned by the discarded yellow puppy plush that’d met the floor through Geto’s foot.
Your moans bounce around the room, occasionally colliding with his grunts of satisfaction as Suguru’s tongue danced around in your mouth, him nibbling on your bottom lip as a hand crept up your shirt. Shaky legs squeeze around his waist, parted by Geto’s knee, and you grind against the flex of his thigh to relieve the building ache in your core.
There’s the soft smack of parting lips whenever Suguru breaks away, eager to shower kisses along your exposed neck, littered with the dark marks of his possession—then he returns for the taste of strawberry on your lips again. There it is again, this endearing sweetness about you, it’s engraved into your very being: your laugh, your smile, your silly jokes, the flavor of your kiss. A needy grip, wandering hands that don’t know their destination, rubbing over Suguru’s shoulders, his back, gripping his nape and threading amongst dark strands of long hair. In the back of his mind, he can’t help wonder if Gojo had an experience such as this and, if so, how he could ever risk never being able to go through it again?
It only takes one hand to unclasp your bra with expert fingers. The undergarment is inched away to expose your breasts, and soon, your shirt with it to leave your top half unveiled for Suguru’s longing gaze.
“Fuck, you’re perfect…,” he mutters to himself, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks. Satoru’s such an idiot, he thinks, missing out on this, on you.
Your hot pants graze his skin; fuzzy, indecisive eyes flicker between Geto’s flushed face and the prominent tent in his sweats, where it just brushes your panties and sends a flood of wetness between your thighs. Trembling hands finally find purchase on his shoulder and behind his neck, where you pull him towards your body, arched to raise your tits and the gesture sends an intense throbbing straight to Suguru’s dick. Offering yourself to him like that, wordlessly begging for his mouth to indulge in you—he’s wrapped so right around your finger, just a lovesick fool for you.
A sharp gasp slips out—Geto’s mouth meets one of your stiffened nipples, rolling it on his tongue before tugging it between his teeth. ‘Ah! Suguru!’ you mewl his name with your head sinking into plush pillows, and he gropes your other lonely breast with a large hand, thumbing the hard bud and pinching it between his fingers.
It’s easy to match the greedy rhythm of his hips, and you uplift your own to meet the grinding of his erection against your heated pussy. A loving kiss pressed to your chest, over the swell of your tits, a bite or two in between while he worships your body. “M—!” Geto cuts you off with a harsh suck of your nipple, prompting a desperate whine from your throat. “O-oh, god—! Fuck, Suguru, k-keep going!”
He pauses the feverish assault on your chest, licking a stripe up the center of your throat, and muttering sweet nothings over your glistening skin before continuing ministrations on the pebbled buds. Your legs hug tight around Geto’s hips, pulling him ever closer until the stiffness in his pants massages your clit through sopping wet panties. Drool soaks your chest, messy and riddled with a new array of bite marks and blemishes. Evidence of Suguru’s obsession, and a clear claim over you because you’re all his now.
“Suguruu…”, you jut out a lip when dark eyes move in your direction, tongue hesitating on your nipple. “Hurry, pleasee?” You whine and flutter long lashes, purposefully grinding against his length again in a needy plea.
He gives one last suck on the erect nub, causing your mouth to fall open with a small moan, and Geto balances himself on an elbow next to your head, easing fingers beneath the waistline of your panties. Snorting, his eyes trail over your heaving form, watching your own fingers tug at the hem of his pants.
“My darling’s so eager, isn’t she?” It’s a soft taunt that fills your ears, makes you conscious of the blazing heat in your veins that sets fire to your skin. “Can’t be that desperate for me, can you? Want me in this pussy that bad?”
Your clit throbs in response, and you keep fingers tucked into Suguru’s sweats, pulling them down for a glimpse at the dark hairs of his happy trail, before growing a little more embarrassed and hiding it away again. He chuckles at your shy behavior.
“Shut up.,” you search the room, pouting, for something else to look at. “You can’t get me like this and then be so mean.”
He lowers himself towards you. “Like what?” A little closer, now locks of his hair brush your face. “Getting this pussy all sloppy and wet for me? Begging to have my cum stuffed in her?”
Eyes widening, you break his gaze, cramming your lids shut as your face twists with a look of bashfulness. “God, Suguru, you are sooo–!” Hot? Dirty? Perverted? “Embarrassing!,” you finally groan in frustration.
Suguru sits up to stare down at the soaked wet patch staining your panties. ‘I’ll tell you what’s embarassing…’ and you give a playful glare at his comment. He chuckles, and adjusts both your legs to rest on his left side before fingers hook beneath the fabric, pulling it off in one swift motion. The slickness of your pussy is a sight to behold, mouth-watering. Juices cascade down your thighs, drenches his protruding digits as he slides them up and down your fluttering hole that threatens to suck him in and never let go.
“ ‘S not my fault, she just knows what she likes.” Geto marvels at how easily his thick finger sinks in, cock twitching at your lengthy whine. “And I think right now she’d like me to break her in.”
He’s so insufferable. “Suguru–“
“God, I’m gonna make this pussy mine, just wait.,” he sighs. The squeeze of your walls at his promise is mesmerizing—your words can’t fly high enough to reach him in the clouds. “Til you can’t remember anything but the shape of my dick, gonna breed this tight fucking hole–“
“I think actions speak louder than words, Suguru.”
Your little taunt pulls Geto out of his daydreams. “Oh, you’re going to be much louder than my actions, darling.”
It’s like sand on your tongue the way your mouth goes dry, him grinning at your flustered expression as he frees his cock from it’s prison. Precum drools from the tip, leaking down his length to leave a stain on his dark sweats. Your tongue darts over your lips, craving just a taste, a desire to encompass his bobbing length in the safe warmth of your mouth.
He glides it over your spasming pussy, making a mess as precum and slick smears everywhere. Amusement dances in Geto’s eyes when he slaps the tip a few times against your clit, sending a jolt through you and bringing a cry from within your throat. He does it again, circles your clit with his tip until your hips are gyrating to match his movements and tears prick the corners of your eyes. ‘Suguru…’ falls off your lips once more in a pathetic plea, and Geto can’t wait any longer when you blink so innocently at him, sigh so prettily at his teasing motions.
It burns a little, the stretch of his fat tip making its way inside. But Geto is slow and patient—he notes any sign of discomfort as he awaits your go ahead, as torturous as it is, especially when the deepest parts of your pussy are calling for him. Your gooey walls are snug around his length, holding him so tight and inviting him inside as inches sink deeper into your fluttering heat—it’s maddening. As Geto finally bottoms out, he cages you between his arms, face flushed pink and framed by long, jet-black waves of hair. So pretty. And his pleasured smile wavers for just a second. You’re so fucked out already that you don’t even know you just mumbled that out loud. Looks like you’re both a pair of lovesick fools.
“F–fuck me, please.,” you whimper. He won’t make you ask twice. Lazy yet deliberate, the drag of Suguru’s cock has your head reeling, especially when he keeps brushing that spot inside you, sending floods of euphoria throughout your body.
Your arms move to wrap around his neck, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “S-so full, Suguru, it f–eels, feels s’ fucking good, don’t stop.” And he replies with a low grunt, ‘shit, I won’t, could never’ as his pace quickens. Tears cast a blurry haze over your vision, sounds of skin against skin picking up in your ears, along with desperate, broken moans from either of you. The sharpness of your nails leave a collection of scratches along Suguru’s back, and the slight pain of it all only fuels the plunge of his dick, making itself at home within the gumminess of your walls. He uses a hand to shift your pelvis, moving himself for a deeper angle and fucking hard into your sweet spot. ‘Oh, fuck, fuck!’ You cry into Geto’s ear, tugging his hair and grasping at him to fit against you. ‘S-Suguru..! Right there–!’, finished off with a loud cry. Your orgasm is right around the corner, a blazing pool of desire overflowing in the pit of your stomach.
“C–um..!” You’re starting to babble, mindless and stupid. “Inside, inside, Suguru!”
And he wants to, trust, but it wouldn’t exactly be responsible without a condom on or knowing whether or not you’re on the pill. Maybe if he was a little less caring—or not tucked away in the crevice of your neck to hide from the hypnotizing power of your eyes—he’d make good on his promise and fill your pussy up until you couldn’t take it anymore. It’s so tempting, the heavy urge to mark your insides with his seed, til they were coated in white, but he just can’t be sure. So while you’re shivering and crying, high off your own orgasm, Suguru uses his last remnants of sensibility. He pulls out, low, raspy grunts and a hiss leaving him at the sight of his cum painting your thighs, spurting onto your swollen clit and leaking down to your quivering hole.
He collapses next to you, chests both heaving and an arm moves to wrap around your waist. Your teary eyes glaze over Geto in his divine glory, too dazed to see him doing the same to you.
“What’s with that face?,” he pants a short chuckle at the pout of your lips.
You turn further onto your side, pressing your bare bodies together and wrapping an arm around his neck, the other rubbing through his hair. “Told you to cum inside me, you wasted it everywhere.”
Suguru scoffs, playful. “Couldn’t risk it, sweetheart, I’d be hooked after one go.”
A shiver runs down his spine as you brush a thumb over his nape. “Oh, is that so bad? Thought you were gonna stuff me, Sugu, you don’t wanna breed this little hole and fill me up?”
“…Keep talking like that and I might.”
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tagz: @anthoosies @mysugu
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rafescurtainbangz · 4 months
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Professor Cameron #2 - Rafe Cameron One Shot + 18
Minor DNI
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Part 1: Link
Rafe × female reader (No use of Y/N)
Warnings: smut, language, swearing, drinking and smoking
Fingering, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, pet names, squirting, overstimulation, praise kink, ownership kink, older Rafe, possessive rafe, jealous rafe, obsessed rafe, choking, spanking, degradation, name-calling, pussy slapping, mating press, reader calls rafe daddy
Lightly edited
4.1K
Don't let the beginning fool it’s a lot of smut lmao 😂 thank you for all the love on part 1! 💕💕💕
Taglist @imyourdaninow @gri959 @redhead1180 @romaescapes
Enjoy! ❤️✨
Tanneyhill...
Later that night
"Holy shit," you whisper, eyes following Rafe's house all the way to the top. The grandeur of it all begs the question, does a professor really live here? I mean, I'm sure the university pays him well, but not this well. This is old money.
Tracking the brick walk, you make your way to the front door, smoothing out a very different ensemble than you wore this afternoon. You breathe a sigh of relief, thankful at this moment that you decided to dress up. Your pink satin mini-dress blows lightly with the cool night breeze, an open back cinched tight, showing off your curves.
Truthfully, I didn't think that would happen. Just teasing between friends until that fictional tale came true. I never thought he would actually cross the line.
Rafe was right... The boys at school weren't cutting it. They were selfish, inexperienced, and immature. That was only an hour? What could Rafe do with a whole night? On a bed instead of a desk? He said he had a 'real big house,' which is the understatement of the century. I can make as much noise as I'd like. He's going to take care of me... Me.
I've never felt pleasure like that in my life. The part that excited me the most was that I was holding back, not wanting to get caught. What would happen if I let myself go? The part that scares me, however, is the fact that I'm already in too deep.
What if Rafe's thought about it since? Not in the way I'm hoping he would, the way that would stop him from doing it again. A moment of clarity where Rafe realizes that he may have made a mistake. I'm his student... He's my professor.
What if he's doing this with other people? What if I'm not the only student in Professor Cameron's class getting "extra credit"? Am I just another one of his girls?
I can't think about that.
I'm feeling things. And, I can't stop.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
You can hear shuffling behind the door, watching as the knob turns. The door fans open; Rafe meets your gaze with a smile. "You... Wow. You look stunning," he hails, bearing the door as you pass through.
Fuck, he looks good. You feel yourself get a little frazzled as you take Rafe in. A slim black button-down and slacks, coupled with yet another pair of designer dress shoes. He smells delicious; that same cologne reapplied, already burned into your brain. "You alright?" He smiles, looking down at you.
"More than alright, Rafe. Just a little nervous."
"About what?" He puffs, cocking his head to the side as he shuts the door. "Told ya I didn't bite. Not unless you want me to," Rafe chuckles warmly, turning you under his finger as he checks out your little dress again. "Goddamn. You're flawless."
"Thank you," you whisper as your cheeks blush. Rafe keeps his hand in yours, guiding you deeper into his house, letting you take it all in.
"So, what are you so nervous about?" Rafe presses a little further, not wanting to let it go until he figures it out.
"I don't know... I didn't expect to be here. I'm just - I hope you aren't having second thoughts."
"Me?" He chuckles; twisting his face slightly as a crooked smile spreads on his lips. "Never. No second thoughts."
"Okay... And, am I the only one-"
"Who's gettin' extra credit?" He snickers, reading your mind entirely. "You are the only one."
"Ever?" You ask, your voice just above a hush, kicking yourself for asking it in the first place to a grown-ass man. Rafe turns you toward him, lacing his fingers in yours; his lips meet your forehead, kissing you softly.
"If you're askin' if I've ever had sex in an office, and I said 'no,' I'd be lyin'," he chuckles weakly. His palms come up, resting gently on your cheeks, guiding your watch to his. "But, if you're askin' me if I've ever done that with a student... never. I've never done that."
You give him a soft smile. "I'm so happy I'm here with you."
"Me too," he hums. "Now, let's go relax. Yeah?" You nod as Rafe leans in, meeting your lips; kissing you deeply. Heat spreads across your body; the contact sets you ablaze, your entire being craving more of him.
Rafe walks you to his study, the mahogany countertop, adorned with six elegant bouquets. "Do you like flowers, princess?" He smiles; his hand resting on the small of your back.
"Of course," you respond dreamily, bending in to smell each. "Six? Rafe, this-"
"I didn't know what your favorite was..." He interjects, "Pink roses?" Rafe guesses, based solely on your reaction.
"Yeah, pink roses," you giggle. "Thank you."
He steers you to his leather couch, taking a seat. Before you can sink down, his hands are on you, guiding you to straddle his lap. You rest your hands lightly on his muscular chest as Rafe eyes you in his arms. His rough hands graze your back, landing on your bum; kneading your curves slowly.
"M'so glad you're here," he soughs, his lust-laced eyes locked on your lips. His crystal blues lift slowly to yours, sending chills down your spine. "You're still nervous sweetheart? Aren't you?"
You shake your head 'no' as you lean in close, kissing him tenderly. His hands drift down your bare thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress. "I'm not... I swear," you whisper as you widen your thighs, pressing your pussy against his rock-hard bulge as you start to grind slowly. Your lips hover close, Rafe, matching your steady breathing. Tension builds as you wait for the other to break.
Rafe kisses you deeply, a passionate exchange, pushing your hips to ride him clothed. "Need to taste you again. Fuck, you tasted so sweet," he mumbles between kisses. Rafe wraps you in his arms, lifting you off the couch. "Just a little bit now. I need it. Don't let me go any farther. Alright? Not yet."
He rests you back down on the couch, pulling you where he wants you, your body desperate for his lips. Rafe drops himself down to his knees for you, taking control as he spreads your thighs, eyeing your glistening cunt with a hungry groan. "No panties?" He chuckles darkly, his dangerous gaze flickering to yours. Rafe brushes your folds, gathering your essence all over his fingers, before sucking them clean as your eyes roll back. "M'so fuckin' hard, princess. Can't wait for you to suck my cock; make me cum again. Get that pretty little mouth of yours around my dick," he sighs. His strong arms loop around your thighs, pulling you closer than before, slumping you on the couch.
Rafe's eyes stay locked on yours as his lips do the same to your clit, sucking and brushing his tongue from side to side. He moans against your pussy, as his fingers toy with your entrance, teasing your pearl with the chilled ridges of his gold ring. Your thighs tremble, tightening around him.
"C'mon, baby," he taunts, spreading you wider, sucking and finger-fucking you with a little more force. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back your cries of pleasure.
"Hey... Woah. Woah... Wait a minute, baby girl," he chides. "Need to hear you. Alright?"
"Yes, daddy..."
"Well, shit..." Rafe rasps as he grabs your legs, slinging them over his shoulders. "I could get used to that."
Everything increases; your heart rate, the pressure, the depth of his tongue in your soaked hole. "You taste like heaven," he pants, bumping his nose against your clit, making your thighs quake. Rafe laps at your pussy, devouring you completely. He breathes deeply, taking in your scent; the vibration of his low moan felt against your heat.
Rafe takes your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly, making you cry out; heels digging into his black dress shirt as you buck your hips; voice echoing through the large house. "There ya go... Atta girl."
Your back arches, lips crying out for him. "Fuck, Rafe. M'right there," you blubber. You reach for your satin straps, tugging down the top of your dress, letting your breasts spill free. Your hands instantly draw up to your tits, squeezing and pressing them together for him. Rafe bites down on your swollen clit; making you throw your head back. A choked sob spills from your lips.
Your hands drop down, weaving into his hair, giving it a rough tug. You grind your pussy on his face, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. "Rafe, s-shit." Your eyes screw shut as you cum on his face, pleasure coursing through your system as your pussy clamps down around his thick fingers. Rafe works you through your orgasm, waiting until you're fully unwound to release you with a panting breath.
"Need it - Fuck. I need your cock in my mouth," you gasp; eyes still shut as you do your best to recover.
"Baby, c'mon..." He chuckles breathily as his lips find yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, making your mind fuzzy. "I wanna share a drink. Take you on a tour... You were supposed to hold me back. You can wait. Right?" You can hear the taunting in his tone, a devilish smirk playing on his kiss-bitten lips.
"Yes, daddy."
Rafe cups your breasts in his hands. Pinching and rolling your pebbled blush between his fingers. He sucks down, trailing wet kisses before biting your sensitive skin, causing you to moan again. "You're mine," he whispers, nuzzling himself into your chest. "I don't want anyone else to have you but me. Understand?"
"What - Wait..." You ask breathlessly. "I mean. Are you sure, Rafe? You barely know me. What if I didn't come into your office today-"
"You would have... eventually. I just got lucky. I always get what I want, princess. I don't wanna see you come into class with anyone else. Don't wanna overhear some douchebag talkin' about some absolutely stunning girl he took home from the bar. You're mine. My pussy," he breathes, making your breath hitch as he slaps your sensitive cunt, soothing it with his cupped palm. "My tits," he mumbles, licking a line through your cleavage as he palms them together. "My lips," he whispers as he kisses you again. "My fuckin' girl. Mine."
"M'yours, Rafe."
**********
"So, you're a professor? Just a professor?" You ask through a flirty grin as you swirl your champagne.
"Yeah... Got bored. Decided to go to college, then grad school; got my doctorate for fun," he rasps before taking a sip.
"So..." You look around, letting your silence speak for itself.
"I made some smart business decisions when I was young. Set myself up nicely."
"Mob boss?" You quip, making him cock his brow and laugh.
"If I told you, princess. I'd have to kill you." Rafe plays along, shooting you a mischievous look. "So, you're pretty far from home. You plannin' on going back for Spring Break, or are you gonna hang around here?"
You laugh nervously, wrinkling your brow, confused yet intrigued, charmed that he went out of his way to find out more about you. "How do you know where I'm from?"
He clears his throat, regretting his words slightly, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt on his thick forearms as he shifts anxiously. "Uh... Um," he puffs, draining some more liquor into his champagne flute. "Your student account," he mumbles sheepishly.
"Professor Cameron!" You gasp, flirtingly, as you lean in a little closer.
"S'bad. Alright. I know. I know! I couldn't help myself. I had to be proactive. Alright? High stakes. I gotta be real careful who I associate myself with."
"And you can associate yourself with me, Rafe?"
"Yeah. I have a good intuition, princess. Questionin' yours a little," he bullies. "That neighborhood you live in is shit, by the way. It's not safe, baby."
Your eyes double in surprise. The more he exposes, the more it should worry me, I know, but he's pulling me deeper. He's possessive, calculated, obsessed even. But, I fuckin' love it. How much more does he know about me?
I need to know.
"You look handsome," you laud; just a slight bite of your lip as you lean into the armrest, hair tumbling to the side. You cross your legs, letting your little dress ride up your thigh.
His eyebrows raise, running his palm against his wide smile, attempting to play it cool as he stares at the valley of your thigh. "Just tryin' to keep up with you, baby. You look stunning. Did you wear that-"
"On New Year's Eve..." You finish his sentence as a smirk pulls on your lips, Rafe taking the bait effortlessly. "Do you follow me on Instagram?"
"No... Just stalk you," he admits, not an ounce of shame in his voice. He can see that you clearly enjoy his attention. "Like I said... Gotta be careful who I keep around. Not to mention, I had to keep an eye on who else was watchin' you. I don't share." He smirks before tossing back the rest of his champagne. Oh...
"That's all you did, Rafe? Just look at my pictures; make sure I was safe?"
He gives you an open-mouth smile as a blush creeps across his cheeks. "You really wanna know?"
"I really wanna know..."
"That red swimsuit you wore in Cabo might be my favorite thing, princess."
You roll your eyes, expelling a dizzy laugh. "So... Again, Professor Cameron, is that all you did? Just look at my pictures; make sure I was safe?"You bully before taking a sip.
His gaze darkens on yours, the look in his eyes telling you more than enough. "Absolutely not."
Rafe adjusts himself in his chair, spreading his thighs a little wider as he pinches a fresh cigar between his lips. He reaches over to the coffee table, snagging the Perrier-Joute, drinking from the bottle. You can see that he's getting more comfortable as time passes by, as well. Laughing a little more, a few more buttons on his shirt undone, drinking straight from the source.
"So, Rafey," you ask in an unholy tone as you stroll from your chair to his, dropping down to your knees to slink the rest of the way. "Is there anything I can do for you? I really need that A." 
He quickly forgets his cigar, resting it in the ashtray without a second thought. Rafe extends the bottle to you, pouring it carefully, some still dribbling from your glossed lips down your chin. He leans down, pinching your cheeks in one hand, licking the mess to your lips. "I got a few things you can do for me, princess."
"Tell me," you whisper, fingering the buttons of his Dior button-down before pulling it open fully. Your fingers trace down his tanned chest, passing through the deep indentations of his abs to his black leather belt.
You can already see his long, thick cock; trapped in Italian wool, making your mouth water. "Since you're on your knees," Rafe smiles as he pinches the button of his pants, opening that, then the zipper. "Why don't you choke on daddy's cock. Hmm?" You can feel the wetness between your thighs, the soft sweetness of his voice contrasting his domineering words, making your head spin. You draw the material over his hips, releasing his aching dick.
You glide your fingers through your pussy; gathering your slick on your digits, taking hold of the base of Rafe's cock. He shakes his head and smiles as his teeth tug on his bottom lip. You work him slowly, watching as the little bead of precum grows larger.
Rafe's hand toils through your hair, brushing it away so he can get a better view of your face. "So pretty on your knees, baby-" Rafe's words get lost in a moan as your warm tongue traces along his prominent vein, catching his cum as it drips down the side.
You lick a few fat stripes up his shaft, kissing his ruddy tip wetly as his dick twitches in your palm. "Fuck, honey," he groans deeply, tossing his head back on the leather chair. "Might not ever let you leave." His hold on your strands tightens as your warm, wet mouth wraps around his swollen tip. A deep moan follows as you suckle on Rafe's head, flicking your tongue along his slit. You caress his balls, taking him to the back of your throat.
Rafe pushes you a little farther, releasing a needy moan as you deepthroat cock. Tears roll heavily down your cheeks as you take as much of him as you can get, gliding off slowly; swirling to the tip, making Rafe's eyes roll back. "Jesus Christ, angel, where's that gag reflex? Huh?" He laughs airly. "So good at sucking cock." Rafe pitches his hips, ramming you deep, making you gag. "Mmm... Shit. There she is," he groans.
Rafe slumps a little lower as he lifts the bottle to his lips, taking a pull. "Gonna bust my load already... Damn, you look good," he praises through a panting breath, making his stomach muscles flex. His thick thighs tremble as you start to stroke him with your mouth, rolling his heavy balls in your tiny hand. You release his cock with a pop, causing him to let out a desperate plea for more.
"M'so wet, Rafe," you whine, feeling your wetness drip from your pussy, gliding down your inner thigh. You take two fingers, skimming them through the mess. Rafe's already set, snatching your wrist; guiding your dainty fingers to his mouth.
He savors the taste, only releasing them when you tighten your lips around his dick again. Twisting your hand at the base, you bob up and down. Rafe follows your strokes, pressing you down here and there as he mumbles praise. "Lips look so good around my cock, sweetheart. Look at you, take it, baby. Such a good little slut f'me. Gag on it. Fuckin' gag on me. Mine... This mouth is fucking mine."
You hollow your cheeks, milking his cock with your mouth, making him whimper and shift in his chair as his eyes slam shut. "I'm right fuckin' there. I - I'm... Fuckkk," he moans, hazy eyes widening as you sink your pussy down on his dick instead.
"Bounce on my cock. Tits in your face," you whisper against his lips, repeating his words from his office as you lower the top of your dress as well.
"You're a fantasy, baby. Fuck." Rafe slaps your ass cheek roughly, then the other side, hissing out a breath as your pussy tightens around him. Rafe pants and groans, his muscles wound tight as he tries to hold steady, watching you as you ride and bounce on top. He's speechless, eyes moving from your face to your breasts; losing control when he glances down, watching the place where you connect; his thick cock glistening with you.
"Fuck me," he grunts in blissful defeat, taking a harsh grip on your hips, pounding deep. Rafe moans your name as he cums hard, continuing to fuck upward, gritting his teeth in overstimulation. No part of him wants to stop now that he has you like this. Rafe pulls you into his lips, kissing you slowly as you grind through his sticky spent.
"Should I stop?" You whisper, feeling Rafe's smile spread against your lips.
"No, princess. Don't fuckin' stop."
********
Your garter belt wraps around your thighs, lingerie hugging the fullness of your breasts; something new, something bought by Rafe just for you. It's a gorgeous set; cups made of two large satin ribbons tied at the center; your crotchless panties, a delicate red lace.
"C'mon, princess. Stop makin' me wait," he croons.
"This is too much, Rafe... I don't need all of this. Truly," you sigh as you round the corner, relaxing against the doorframe.
Rafe licks his lip, savoring each glimpse of bare skin. "Nah... This one's for me." He pushes off the bed, moving toward you, pulling you close before kissing you deeply, breaking away from time to time, solely to take you in. "Better than I imagined..."
"You thought about this?" You hum.
"More than I should, princess," Rafe breathes, lifting you into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as you bend your arms a little tighter around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
Rafe walks you over to the bed slowly, taking his time as you press your chest against his, hearts picking up pace together. He sets you down on the mattress, mounting you a moment later.
Rafe's absolutely beautiful like this: dark blonde hair a mess, flushed cheeked, skin dewy. He cages you in, admiring you for a moment before starting again. He grinds his dick against you, trailing pre cum on your skin as he works his body against yours. Rafe continues to tease the both of you, his cock, painfully hard as you wait for him to ease your ache.
He swirls his dick through your arousal, nudging your entrance with his swollen head. Rafe gives you one last look before dropping his focus low. "Shittt," he groans as your walls pull him in. He fights the urge to throw his hips into you, working slow enough to let you feel every curve and ridge until he's filled you to the brim. You don't even realize you're holding your breath until he rests his heavy head on your shoulder.
"Fuck, Rafe."
"Squeezin' me so tight," he breathes. Rafe completely bottoms you out, balls resting against your ass. He grips your hips, forcing himself even deeper, pressing his cock into you with his full weight making you squirm away slightly.
"Where are you goin', Princess?" He mumbles against your warm skin, the safeword you joked about during dessert right on the tip of your tongue, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.
"Nowhere, daddy," you pant as you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to stay.
"My girl," Rafe growls, lips latching onto your neck, sucking harshly. He marks you with his lips, branding you with what will surely leave behind a dark purple hickey. His teeth sink into your skin, causing you to whimper.
Rafe starts to rock his cock into you, nailing your sweet spot each time. You wrap your arms around him, marking him in your own way as your manicured nails drive into his skin. Rafe moans your name, getting off on the ache.
His body drags away from yours, tugging at the bow between your breasts, letting the satin fall to your sides as he changes positions. Rafe starts to stroke as hands move from your hips to your breasts, gripping them tight, pinching and rolling your nipples before settling on your neck.
You wait impatiently for his grasp as Rafe studies his skin on yours. He smirks wickedly, watching the way his rings glint in the low lighting, his hand wrapped like a necklace around your pretty little throat.
Rafe tightens his grip, making your eyes roll back as he pumps into slow and deep, snapping his hips each time. You can feel yourself a little more breathless than before; your pulse felt under his heavy hand. You let out a choked cry as his other hand finds your clit, rubbing circles on top.
"Faster," you beg, your voice cock-drunk and hoarse.
"Mmm... Bet my little slut wants it harder too. Yeah?"
"Yes - Fuck," you squeal. Your breasts bounce with each clap of his hips, his fat tip kissing your g-spot with each thrust. Rafe gives it to you harder and faster as you feel your pleasure about to boil over.
He's just as pussy-drunk, eyes glossed, pupils blown. Your eyes flutter closed, drool seeping out of the corner of your plump lips. You feel Rafe's breath on your skin, his soft tongue cleaning you off just as he did with the champagne, spitting it back into your open mouth this time.
His tongue tangles with yours, sloppy and breathless, as you swallow each other's sounds. "M'gonna cum," you gasp, feeling tears of pleasure well in your eyes.
"Me too, baby. You gonna make a mess? Let me clean it up for you," he pants.
"Yeah-ahh," you answer shakily. Warm liquid squirts from your sex, soaking Rafe's thick cock and his expensive sheets. "Fuck, Rafe," you whimper. I can't believe I just did that... I've only seen that in porn. Rafe quickly snuffs out your embarrassment as he coaxes you further.
"Fuck, baby. Just like that. I think my girls got more in her. Don't you?" He grunts, not letting up, applying more pressure to your clit. You feel it again; a second release, Rafe fucking you through the spurts of your climax.
Rafe was right. He always gets what he wants.
"Gonna cum... Gonna fill you so full, Princess. Fuck," he moans.
"Cum in my pussy, daddy."
Rafe's eyes roll back at the sounds of your voice, his release following close behind, muscles tightening as he floods you with his finish.  He throws his head back, breathing deeply as he comes down from his high.
"Co'mere..." You whisper. Rafe gives you a satisfied smile, burying himself in your neck; holding you close for a moment before rolling you on top.
You rest your head on his chest, listening as his heart starts to slow with his breathing. Rafe's rough fingertips skim your spine as he releases a deep breath. "Mmm... Baby?" He mumbles sleepily, wrapping you tightly in his arms.
"Yes," you whisper, blissed out and breathless as you meet his beautiful eyes.
"You're never leaving."
973 notes · View notes
pseudowho · 10 days
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Monster
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Your colleague, Higuruma Hiromi, has seemed so tired, for so long. You'd do anything to help him...right?
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Vampire!Higuruma, blood consumption, male masturbation, female masturbation, thigh fucking, PIV, m!receiving oral, f!receiving oral, sex-pollenish/aphrodisiac effects and vampirism
(dis)honourable mention to @delirious-donna for helping me to decide on the location of this flagrant sluttiness.
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Higuruma Hiromi was driven to skin-clawing distraction by daydreams of the taste of you, in more ways than one.
You never knew this, of course. Late-nights alone in the office invariably turned into debauched scenes of Hiromi, fucking into his fist and wishing it was your pussy instead; teeth piercing his own blood from his hand and being lapped up by his whining mouth, wishing it was your throat instead. Too many times had he needed to wipe droplets of blood and milky cum off his paperwork, shuddering with the remnants of his orgasm, his cock still semi-hard in his fist.
His latest cunning plan to sate this desperate hunger, had been unsuccessful. Sat at your desk, and breathing deeply of one of the scarves you had left in your drawer, had set his cock hardening against his thigh humiliatingly fast. Hiromi had tugged at the roots of his own hair, head thrown back and growling in frustration. Fumbling around in his bag, he had clumsily slopped lube into a pocket-pussy, and withdrawn the unit of packed red blood cells he had managed to steal from the local hospital.
Messy, and sweaty, Hiromi had drunk from this pack, while the slick sounds of his frantic self-pleasuring and fractured, sandy moans filled the empty office. Your scarf, steeped in the smell of you, remained draped over his face and nose the whole time.
With each passing day you grew sweeter, and riper. He could not cope. He could not cope. He would not last.
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One day, you hoped, you might arrive in the office before Hiromi. Whatever the time of year, he arrived before the break of dawn, and left after the sun had set. Vitamin D supplements had entered into your head as the next possible way to help him, and you shook yourself for being so ridiculous-- although...
"I...you don't have to buy me coffee every morning," Hiromi whispered, something tender coiling in his belly when you slipped a large black coffee and a bagged pastry onto his desk, "let alone breakfast."
"Well," you hummed, benign, "would you eat or drink if I didn't feed you?" Hiromi narrowed his eyes, a challenging little smile within them. A scoff.
"If I lied to you, would you believe me?"
"You're a great lawyer, Hiromi. But not smart enough to lie to me."
His laughter, rich and genuine, burst in you, a stunning puff of petals. You couldn't laugh with him, as your heart stalled in place. How could you not help him, when a match struck in his eyes, just from looking at you?
"Not that I ever would." Hiromi assured, low and smooth. His eyes never left yours once. His gravity threatened to pull you straight into his arms. "Lie to you, that is. You're the only thing that..." Hiromi trailed off, clearing his throat. He looked back to his papers, pale. You missed the tremor in his hands. You couldn't feel how he held himself back from taking you, in every way, here on his desk.
If only he knew you would let him.
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How the fuck did he find himself in the driving rain, three floors up, looking through your balcony windows? How the fuck had it gotten this bad? You were a drug. Forbidden fruit. Hiromi had not drunk from a person in so long, instead surviving on a knife's edge, from stolen blood bags and wild deer. He couldn't recall what came first; needing to be inside you, or needing you inside him. It all equated to hunger, anyway. He was starved.
Even a morsel would do. That's how he found himself outside your bedroom, in a storm, watching you fuck yourself in your bedroom when you should have been sleeping. The rainwater seeped through his black suit, doing nothing to cool the hot, velvet throb between his legs. His hair was swept back off his forehead, drenched, squinting against the biting wind as he marvelled at the image of you.
Clearly, you were unable to distract yourself from the ache in your belly, and the little memories of past orgasms that throbbed through your clit. Every time the thought of Hiromi fucking into you had crossed your mind, you reached for something in your drawer that would never satisfy that urge like he would.
You lay on your belly, stretched and stuffed all the way to your cervix with a dildo and rabbit. You had spent your generous paycheck on an expensive toy, one that thrusted. You knew, deep down, humping the dildo inside you with a pillow between your legs, that it would never be able to replicate the real thing. You felt the blunt little punch of the mechanical dildo against your belly, fucking it into you, as if it would soothe your spiritual famine. Your pleasure was dulled, without the accompanying tenderness of the man that you wanted...needed.
You wore an oversized t-shirt, and nothing else, and Hiromi watched how your back arched and undulated, rolling your cunt against the pillow. You gripped another pillow between your arms, biting into it, mewling at the deliciousness of being filled with something, anything. Hiromi's animalistic senses could hear your little cries, and the muffled buzz of your toys. He could smell the silky arousal that spilled out around your dildo. He could taste you on the air, almost.
It took every ounce of self-restraint not to allow his inhuman strength to take over, punch a hole through the glass and step in, silhouetted against the moonlight. Hiromi would allow his own musk, a curious trap in the art of seduction and predation, to seep over you. Hiromi would watch as you became pliable, supple. You wouldn't fight as he shushed you, pulling the dildo from you and licking it clean. You would whimper for him to replace the emptiness he had left behind, and he would, of course, oblige you. He would press you down by the back of your neck, as if you would ever resist him, and promise you that it wouldn't hurt. He would drink down your cries and your blood as he fucked you down against the sheets, his mouth lapping so fervently at your throat.
He hadn't even noticed how close to his own peak he had come, but as you tensed and keened against your pillow, he felt the dangerous tug of his balls tightening against the base of his cock. He wasn't even touching himself, how could he possibly--
"...H-Hiromi...haaaaah please please fuck me please...oooooohhhh 'm cumming--"
Hiromi came with a shout, with next to no warning, to hear you cry out his name. He convulsed, hunched and doubled-over, cursing and feeling thick ropes of his seed pulse through his jerking cock, diluting with rainwater and trickling down his thighs. He was stunned, panting against the glass, and he nearly swallowed his own heart when he heard the rustle of sheets, and a timid little voice pipe through the dark.
"Hello? Who's there?"
By the time you had pulled the dildo from yourself with a shiver, and opened the balcony door, there was nothing left behind but the churning storm. Clinging to the underside of your balcony, still panting and covered in his own cum, Hiromi knew that something deep within him had fractured completely.
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You were astounded to find yourself alone in the office as the sun set. Hiromi had left before you, with a sickly-looking smile, and a languid wave of that long, pale hand. While you were thrilled that he was going home at a normal time, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He knew you were staying to work late on a case...and had, apparently, chosen this one night to leave before nightfall.
Night had, indeed, fallen fast. The sunset blotted out quickly behind grey rolling clouds. Another storm swept in, dragging the night along with it. You opened a window, seeking the earthy petrichor to balm your weary soul. You sunk your lovesickness into a bitter coffee, as if it was enough to replace the lackadaisical cleverness of the man who haunted your every waking moment.
You tried to distract yourself, awash in case notes. The hours dragged, long and lonely. Rubbing your eyes as the clock struck midnight, you stood to collect the key to lock the office, only to find it missing.
"Shit..." you murmured, sitting back at your desk to rummage in the drawers. You rummaged in all the drawers-- your boss's, your colleagues, Hiromi's...
The lights above you went out with a click. One by one, throughout the length of the office, the lights went out, out, out, and you were plunged into darkness. You felt a lick of ice down the nape of your neck, and every hair stood on end. You were being watched.
"Shit...shit... where's the key... where's the fucking key?" You hissed to yourself, terror crawling across your skin.
Hiromi was barely himself anymore as he stalked you from the shadows. His belly was a cavernous pit. The unholy combination of starvation and desire stirred the monster within. He lay in waiting, allowing you to be drawn in, running to him while you thought you were running away.
You had tried every nook, every pigeon hole, every secret hook throughout the office, but fear made you sloppy. You couldn't go home too late, when the streets were empty. Not with all the tales of hungry beasts hunting for lone prey in the night.
Why, then, as you approached the expansive boardroom at the end of the corridor, did you find yourself becoming so...mellow? You felt light, airy. You floated on an otherworldly, heady musk, so alluring. It reminded you of someone...but who? You couldn't remember, so many drinks deep into this odd botanical tonic. It throbbed through you, intoxicating and warm and your heart was beating between your legs by the time you swayed into the boardroom, undoing your hair, loosening the buttons of your blouse--
"...I'm sorry. I can't let you leave."
You blinked, slow and drunk. Frowning as your vision cleared, you saw Hiromi, illuminated by moonlight. He sat in the executive's chair, at the head of the great boardroom table. A flash of lightning set his features in dramatic clarity, his Roman nose casting deep shadows across his profile. Still, you thought, with your little hum or surprise, he looked pale. Tense. Tortured.
"...Hiromi...Hiro..." you whispered, padding over to him, barefoot. You couldn't remember when you had shed your shoes. Hiromi's skin prickled. The way your voice, sweet and breathy, ran straight to his cock, had him biting one finger between gradually lengthening canines, his other fingertips steepled against his deeply frowning forehead.
"...wouldn't leave anyway...not when I've...finally got you all to myself..." You slurred, grinning, a happy drunk. Hiromi couldn't help but bite one lip, smiling back at you, as you sat with a thud on his lap. His deadly, predatory pheromones increased against his will, to feel your soft, plush curves pressed to his lap. Hiromi trailed one arm around your waist. The part of him that screamed for him to stop, was trapped in a glass box in his mind.
"Yeah?" Hiromi whispered, one pale hand cupping your jaw. "You've been wanting me all alone? Tell me." She wants this it's okay it's not a trap she'll help me she'd always help me god she's so beautiful--
"I have. For months. I dream about you." The words left your mouth unbidden, dragged from you by some irresistible force. Hiromi drank them down, needing to hear you confess your desire for him.
"And what do you do?" Hiromi urged, his voice rough with need. "What do you do, when you dream of me? Tell me. Now."
"I touch myself and...and wish it was you, instead." Hiromi shivered.
"Until you cum? To the thought of my cock inside you? Until you're calling out for me?" You nodded, hurried and floppy. Hiromi cursed under his breath, a thumb brushing over your lips, salivating at the memory of you on your bed, crying out his name.
"Yeah," you promised, almost tearful now with the weight of your confessions, "I do, I cum so hard, but it's not enough, it's not the same as-- as--"
You slid a hand up Hiromi's chest, his sloppy tie and partially unbuttoned shirt, and were surprised by how cool he felt. He groaned beneath your touch, and you shivered, turning and pressing your chest to his. Hiromi panted beneath you, his face contorted, barely restrained. His hands felt so strong, trapping you to him by your waist, and you were sure there would be bruises left behind.
"Let me taste you," Hiromi convinced, his voice low and persuasive, "just once...you're going to help me." His fingers tangled in your hair now, angling your face up, and you blinked slowly, dazed and unquestioning. His teeth were sharp, bared. You could feel the length of his cock, throbbing against your belly. The frantic rise and fall of his chest made you feel like you were on a little boat, rocking over waves.
You had barely begun to nod, before he pulled you in for a kiss so deep, your head swam. Hiromi groaned into your mouth, forcing your lips to part with his own, devouring you with bliss and fervour. You had never felt so alive, your little heart beating like hummingbird wings. The taste of him was sinful. He wanted to carve out your soul and tie it to his, enshrined, fit for worship. By the time his tongue had plunged into your mouth, you were loose and supple on his lap.
Every ounce of uncertainty had left you. Just as Hiromi's mouth began to trail across your jaw, towards your neck, your hand slipped beneath his belt. Hiromi's lips released the lovebite he had just made above your pulse point with a pop, and his head flung back against the executive's chair's headrest. The moan that left his lips was more pornographic than you had ever dreamt. His silky foreskin seared beneath your touch.
"--f-fuck, god, I-- squeeze me harde--- oooohh-ooohhh shit...hnnnn--'
Hiromi's hands gripped the armrests, white-knuckled, and the two monsters inside him fought a bloody fight to see you slip to your knees between his own, batting his thighs aside. Your hand had released his cock, and if he didn't have it back again, or your blood in his mouth, he would break.
"Will you help me, or not?" He hissed at you, imploring you to spill your soul to him. Lost in this curious haze, you found yourself unable to refuse him an answer.
"...always help you, Hiromi." You mumbled, your fingers deftly undoing his belt. Your teeth unzipped his trousers, and the way Hiromi blushed when your eyes shot him such a filthy look, made you giggle. Maybe I'm the one in danger, he thought vaguely. You hummed, rubbing the pre-cum wet tip of his freed cock against your lips, glossing them. Hiromi's teeth bared again in a snarl, and he panted, bucking up into your hand. You teased him, stroking his length slowly, rolling his aching balls in one hand. Hiromi was frayed, furious with so many unfulfilled needs. He snapped.
"Open your mouth and let me fuck it or I swear--" Hiromi's uncharacteristic threats broke off into a strangled moan, when you took him into your mouth, hot and wet and all at once. Sucking at the tip, curling your tongue to cup the underside of his cockhead, you let the bobs of your head, and swirls of your tongue run smooth and sloppy.
The very air around you felt steeped in wildflowers, and the bizarre pseudo-alcoholic rush heightened every sensation. Even though there was clearly something very wrong with the man you had lusted after for so long, his taste his moans his fingers in your hair his trembling thrusts into your mouth, felt so right.
"--more tongue...deeper deeper yesssss...good girl, fuck-- f-fuck, good girl...wanna come in your mouth-- swallow it-- swallow me--"
You obliged him, and your consciousness remained dragged just a millisecond after your movements as you sunk your mouth lower, swallowing around his cockhead until your nose brushed his downy black happy-trail, and your throat constricted around his tip. Hiromi felt a slam of pleasure behind his navel as his orgasm hit, everything in him tightening with his release.
Hiromi's cries, so frantic and needy, crescendoed through the boardroom, and you felt cool ropes of cum spurt against the back of your tongue. Hiromi watched you swallow around his jerking cock, certain he must be dreaming the eroticism of this. By the time your dewy eyes opened again to look up at him, his cock still hard against your white-spattered tongue, Hiromi had lost all composure. Something white-hot and terrifying rolled off him, and you pulled away, spit and semen connecting you in a thread to his twitching cockhead. Your heart clenched, suddenly feeling a flicker of fear.
"...Hiromi? What's wrong?" You asked, cautious as you rose, scooting backwards onto the boardroom table and sliding yourself away from him. Hiromi stood, slow and deliberate. Something had changed within him. Every action of his seemed clipped, hyper-efficient and intentional. You felt your heady drunkenness increase, a thick pulse of desire shooting through your core, and you tried to ignore it with a whimper.
A flash of lightning illuminated you both-- for the briefest moment, you swore you could see the shadow of great wings behind Hiromi's lean, predatory form. A rumble of thunder rattled the boardroom. Drifts of rain swept the glass wall.
"...knew you'd work it out in the end." Hiromi cooed, his words licking at you, coaxing you back. "Clever girl. I told you I couldn't let you leave, didn't I?" He began to crawl along the table towards you, seemingly weightless, his movement so fluid-- so inhuman.
"You won't-- you won't kill me." You stated, as much to convince him as yourself. Hiromi swallowed, his pupils dilated, still crawling to catch up with you. As you darted back, he leapt forwards, dragging you to him by your ankle and caging you against the table beneath him. Only then, did you see the turmoil in him.
"I'd never. I could never. I wouldn't, ever." Hiromi spat, beseeching. You softened. He saw how you squirmed beneath him, knew how his hormones had ensnared you, making you desperate. Seeing you clutch your thighs together for relief, your nipples pebbled and almost freed beneath your blouse, Hiromi gulped again.
"I'm so-- so hungry." Hiromi growled, canines sharp against his lower lip, "And I need-- need-- I can make this good...for both of us. I can make you, if I need to, but I-- I'd rather not. Trust me. Please." He did not need to beg or force, when you were already undressing beneath him, as if you hadn't been waiting for him to take you since the first time your name had fallen from his lips.
"I trust you. Just...just...please." You begged now, and Hiromi shuddered, his eyes black as another flash of lightning flashed on his exquisite profile. He watched you, breasts heaving, now in just your bra and underwear. A burst of pheromones from him left you whimpering, your neck stretched to the side. He raised one strong, fine-boned hand to circle your throat, protecting it from himself as his mouth moved down your body.
"...so close already, aren't you? My beauty...best thing I've ever tasted." Hiromi whispered, his lips ghosting over one freed nipple, pre-cum dripping where his cock dragged against your thighs, "Need you sweeter...before I drink you." You whimpered beneath his mouth, suckling on your nipple until you cried out, your hands tangling in his inky, grey-streaked locks of hair. His hand kneaded at your other breast, relishing the softly yielding squish beneath his fingers.
Your thighs parted for just long enough to clamp Hiromi's cock between them, slick with his dripping pre-cum and your arousal. Hiromi gasped, canines grazing against your nipple, and your thighs clamped harder, Hiromi jerking with a cursing groan above you. He rutted spontaneously, sliding his cock between the plush of your thighs with a shaky, prolonged moan. Hiromi stayed this way for a few minutes, lapping and kneading at your breasts, fucking himself between your thighs. His pleasure threatened to peak again, and he hissed, slipping his cock free of the hot glove your thighs had made for him.
"Don't...don't." Hiromi growled, nipping your belly in warning as he slid himself down, shooting you a look to burn. "I'm not cumming on this fucking table, when I could cum inside you." Your breath hitched with the promise, feeling so weightless as Hiromi stripped your underwear from you. He took a moment to admire the glistening petals around your core, before sinking his tongue and nose between them with a moan.
Hiromi didn't allow you to last. Already so close to your peak, Hiromi's essence pulsed through you with your taste on his tongue. You were washed through with a skin-prickling, burning orgasm, plundering through you like wildfire. Hiromi had gripped you, and would not let you go, and with his mouth desperately lapping at your clit, your orgasm simply did not end.
You were a wreck, writhing and twisting and begging, all frantic cries of his name, alternately trying to shove Hiromi's head away and pull him closer. With one particularly hard push against him, Hiromi drew away, and bit onto the soft inside of your thigh in warning. You squealed as he drew blood.
You almost heard his heartbeat stop, enthralled by the droplets of blood running down your thigh. His tongue darted out, capturing them before they hit the table, your blood and arousal mixing on his tongue. You suddenly felt the danger you were in, in the jaws of a god as Hiromi's eyes turned up to you, settling on your neck. His eyes stayed fixed, his mouth puckering around the bite wound on your thigh, sucking just once before sealing the wound with a trembling tongue.
"...I'm going to fuck you, now." Hiromi stated, blunt, in warning, as he crawled back up your body. His cockhead grazed over your folds, and Hiromi grasped himself, lining his cock up with your fluttering core. "And you'll stay still...or I...I can't...you'll get hurt."
You couldn't possibly have refused at this stage. Hiromi was possessed by something stronger than himself, and you yearned to heal the fractured core of him. Grasping your wrists in one of his hands, and pressing them above your head, Hiromi coiled one hand in your hair, tilting your neck to the side.
You felt the insistent press of his cock filling you, as his teeth punctured your skin. You jolted, crying out, and Hiromi snarled against you, gripping you tighter. Hiromi felt the hot, salty, copper tang of your blood flooding his tongue, and his hips took on a life of their own. He slammed into you, again, and again, tasting your delicious little squeaks, bound beneath him with no means of escape. The human core of him was disgusted; the monster relished every second.
Allowing his otherworldly bliss to roll over you again, Hiromi felt you go languid and supple, your pussy clenching involuntarily around the bullying pace of his cockhead against your belly. Breathless moans muffled into your neck, interspersed with his gulps. Hiromi burst with adoration for you, and how well you were taking him. He had never felt so alive.
Hiromi felt your pulse fluttering in your wrists, and, convinced it was growing weaker, released your throat with a whine and a gasp, pressing his tongue against you again to seal the wounds. Hesitating only briefly, Hiromi fucked into you harder, faster, crimson dripping down his chin, dopey and lovesick. His hand tangled in your hair, pressing a bloody kiss to your cheek, feeling his orgasm creep up his back. His fingers plaited with your own above your head.
You were his, completely, happy to be used. The fervent thrust of his blunt, leaking cockhead against your sweet spot, his sandy whispers and gasps-- "...the best fucking medicine...I swear to god-- keep me forever, please, shit-- cum inside you, gonna cum inside you-- fffuck--" -- and the waves of Hiromi's strange, floral aphrodisiac, sent you tumbling over the edge again. Hiromi cursed, moaning, to feel you clench, writhing and arching beneath him, your cries rising in pitch as Hiromi fucked into you with total abandon, mesmerised by you.
"--more more moremoremore please-- Hiromi-- don't stop--"
Hiromi gritted his teeth, drawing himself out for as long as he could. Feeling the pummel and stretch of his cock inside you, slick and wet, set your eyes rolling back. When you bit into Hiromi's shoulder, he broke, buckling onto his elbows with a roar. His second orgasm blinded him, his balls emptying in violent contractions, thick white seed filling your belly and cunt in long, agonisingly pleasurable spurts. Hiromi swore, cursing and convulsing, crushing your body beneath his.
By the time Hiromi's vision returned, he was more human than he'd felt in months, as if giving into the monster was the only thing keeping him at bay. You floated back down to earth with him, feathersoft, on your bed of meadowsweet. A faint blush spread across Hiromi's nose at the sight of you, fucked-out, messy and spread beneath him.
"...I understand we have some important things to talk about," Hiromi said, bizarrely formal for a man whose cock was still inside you, "and I understand if you don't want to see me again after this, so we can organise a public date and time--"
Hiromi's voice muffled, still trying to talk as you pulled him to you by his tie, shutting him up with a kiss.
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luveline · 5 months
Note
hi lovely!! you mentioned bombshell!reader holding spencer's hand the whole time after the whole tobias incident and i wanted to request a more in-depth continuation of that, if it's alright? maybe with reader helping spence with his addiction afterwards too bc i just hate how the team didn't support him properly during that time 😭
There's something cold touching his hand. Actually, there's lots of things happening to his hand. 
Spencer fights to open heavy lashes, closes them again when the white hospital wall bathed in early morning sun burns his retinas. Alert, he realises that the hand in his is sweetly soft, with gentle fingertips holding his marriage finger up higher than the rest. You're playing with his hands while he sleeps.
Spencer opens his eyes again. There's no machine taking his observations, no beeping or whistling or medical ringing to be heard, just the soft huff and puff of your breathing and the sound of your heel tapping the floor. 
There had been more noise last time he woke, but the same amount of you. 
“Spencer?” 
He looks up from your hands holding his to your face. It's not fair, he thinks, how pretty you are, how pretty you continue to be, with your hair, your smile, your ever-smirking lips. You're doing it now, the sight of your painted smile squeezing his heart into a frenzied beating. If they were still taking his observations, he'd die from embarrassment. 
“Hey,” you say, still smiling, hands more insistent on his. 
“Hey. What are you doing here?” 
“What does it look like I'm doing, handsome?” you ask. 
“Did you go home?” 
“Of course I did.” You don't sound truthful. “Want a drink?” 
You pull a bottle of water from your handbag and pass it to him. He has to take his hand from yours to open it, and he wishes he'd said no. Spencer would happily go thirsty to prolong your touch and the security it brings with it. He's antsy as he swallows, a foreign-body feeling pervasive as he caps the drink, puts the bottle aside, and rubs the crust from his eyes. Lank hair falls into his face. 
“You okay?” you ask gently. 
“When can I leave?” 
“Tonight… They want to make sure you're, you know… properly weaned.” Your voice comes out quieter than he's ever heard it before. 
It's as forward as anyone's bothered being about the drugs. The drug, singular. 
Dilaudid is eight times stronger than morphine. Spencer was injected multiple times. His body won't be totally addicted, but he craves the numbness of it already. Whatever he's on isn't cutting through the pain in his legs and feet, nor the memories of being tied up, and all alone. 
“I think I'm gonna be sick,” he says. 
You grab for a blanket off of the edge of the bed to cover his lap as he hangs his head, sure he's going to throw up, but he doesn't so much as heave. The nausea remains anyhow, and worsens as you sit beside his legs. Your hand once again takes his, fingers slotting together as though they were made for this one purpose, your voice a clean, cleaving thing, “Hey, it's alright. It's fine, Spence, you're okay. This is expected.” He curls in on himself. You tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, tugging his hand closer to you in tandem. “You're gonna feel awful for a few days, but I'm right here.” 
“Why are you here?” he asks, confused. 
“Spence.” 
He looks up from under his lashes. 
Your semi-permanent smile seems to have gotten lost somewhere. “Spencer,” you say, attempting to say something without really saying it, eyes glued to his, “where else would I be?” 
He rubs the place between his brows with the heel of his palm. You keep his hand and wrap him in a careful hug. Either you don't notice how desperately he needs a hot shower or you don't care, gracing his cheek with a friendly (and unmissably loving) kiss. It's hard not to cry after that. 
“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you say. You weren't even on the case, but you'd showed up just as soon as you knew he'd been taken, and you haven't left his side since they found him in the cemetery. You don't have a thing in the world to be sorry for. “I'm so sorry. It'll be okay now.” Your voice ripples with surety. 
“Thanks for staying,” he says. 
“You did all the hard work by yourself.” You squeeze his fingers. “I can do the rest, babe.” 
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bedsyandco · 24 days
Note
noticing the indented marks left on their face from the pillow or however they were laying
^ "did you sleep well?" "mhm.." [tracing the mark with their hand] "i can tell."
prompt with Luke Hughes
ᯓ⌕ 𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟑 ༉‧₊
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pairing: gf!reader x luke hughes
summary: in which taking naps on your boyfriend is your favourite pastime. and he enjoys nothing more than having his girl in his arms.
content: just some fluff.
note: thank you so much for taking part in my celly! it's time I get myself a pookie bf cause writing these are making me feel lonier and lonier 😔
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luke loves sleeping. it’s one of the many joys in his life. and it’s no secret either. luke knows his teammates are well aware that when he declines their offers to go out, he goes home and knocks right out. and as much as he brushes their teasing off by saying he’s just a kid and he’s still growing, luke is pretty sure no matter how old he gets he’ll always be down for an afternoon nap.
luke only knew one other person who loved sleeping as much as him… and that was you. it’s become an integral piece of your routine. it’s almost a daily occurrence for jack to find you and luke passed out together for an hour or two.
but if there was one thing luke loved more than sleeping…it was watching you sleep. not in a creepy way, he swears. there was just something so peaceful about watching your content expression, the way your whole face would soften, the steady beat of your heart, your soft puffs of breaths against his skin. watching you sleep put him in a state of grace that even his own slumber couldn’t.
so what if he sacrificed his own two hour naps just to admire you in your sleep? it recharged him all the same and no one would ever know.
“is she asleep?” jack whispers when he enters the apartment and sees his brother on the couch. you laying completely on top of him.
“of course she is,” jack says when luke nods in response.
luke grins at the horrified expression on jack’s face when you let out a particularly loud snore. he gently runs his hand through your hair, dropping a kiss on your head.
“fuck!” jack yells suddenly and luke turns his head seeing his brother crouched over, clutching his toe.
“shut up. I just told you she was sleeping,” luke whisper-yells and jack glares at him letting out an annoyed sigh. luke glances down at you, making sure his brother’s antics didn’t wake you up.
“I stubbed my toe. It fucking hurts. but I’m okay, thanks for asking,” Jack says and Luke rolls his eyes at his brother’s dramatics
“If you wake her up you’re gonna be very not okay when I’m done with you,” luke grumbles and stills when you shift, hand clutching his shirt tightly
but he quickly forgets about the threat uttered to his brother. a warm feeling spreading through his chest when your eyes flutter open, blinking slowly up at him.
“hey baby. did you sleep well?” luke asks, gently brushing wild strands of hair out of your face.
“mhm…” you mumble, snuggling back into his chest, exposing the side of your face you were laying on and luke smiles at the indented mark on your face
“I can tell,” luke says amused, pressing a kiss to the top of your head when you hide your face in his chest from embarrassment.
luke squeezes you tight, his eyes fluttering close with a content look on his face. jack contemplates waking both of you when he sees your drift off again, knowing the two of you were on dinner duty tonight, but the peaceful look on his little brothers face makes him hesitate.
jack decided to leave the two of you be, but for no other reason other than the fact that he doesn’t want to eat luke’s burnt rice again. or so he tells himself.
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steddielations · 9 months
Text
nsfw text, bdsm, sub eddie
Eddie’s always the more dominant one running the show with his hookups. It’s nice but it’s been so long since someone put him down, cleared his mind of everything except pleasing and being pleased.
He doesn’t know why he complains about it to Steve, who’s as golden vanilla as they come, who only offers a snort as he passes the joint back, “Eddie Munson can’t find someone who wants to slap him around? I can’t believe it.”
Eddie takes a disgruntled puff as Steve suggests he looks through their old high school yearbook, call up some of those guys that would gladly take a swing at him.
Eddie tries to tell him it’s not just about getting slapped around, it’s the whole mentality of it. The weed must be getting to his head, he can’t find the right words, but Eddie being Eddie, nerdy about anything that piques his interest, from dnd to submission, he’s got it all written down in his journal.
He’s not even all that high, doesn’t know why he willingly hands it over to Steve beside him on the couch, or why his neck prickles with heat even though few things truly embarrass him, or why it feels kinda good.
Steve almost teases him again but Eddie already looks strangely timid about showing him. It’s Eddie, so writing a guide for his weird sex is a very Eddie thing, and maybe Steve’s a little endeared by it, whatever. So he doesn’t joke, he blinks the glaze from his eyes and scans the page.
He doesn’t know a ton about this stuff, nothing beyond a couple girls asking him to spank them a little or rest a hand on their throat, it gave him a rush too but he tried not to think too hard about why. He expects to see things like that in Eddie’s journal and yeah there’s some, but also, Eddie’s written out why he wants what he wants.
His mind is loud. That riot of energy that surrounds Eddie, it’s hectic inside too, buzzing next to Steve even now. Almost a magnetic pull, sometimes Steve gives in, touches Eddie’s shoulder or his knee, just to feel his static, how it flutters and then calms under his hand. To be settled, Eddie’s journal says, to let his mind float, to feel nothing but intensely good, to trust someone else to think for him.
Steve’s seen Eddie parading around, the way he basks in any kind of attention and clearly enjoys having his way, but Steve can see the thrill of having that taken away from him. To be put down, the journal says, made to feel small with words, some mean and some sweet, with hands, both rough and soft. Eddie wants to be held down and fucked, overwhelmed to tears and praised for taking it, to be told he’s a good boy despite himself.
Steve’s face heats, doesn’t know why he’s thinking about what it’s like to make Eddie Munson feel small, to turn all his big fancy words to mush in that loud mouth that drives Steve crazy sometimes, to be the one this absolute hell of a boy wants to be good for.
Eddie suddenly reaches out, “Okay I think that’s—”
“Wait, I wasn’t done,” Steve holds onto the journal, but doesn’t keep reading, seeing how Eddie looks more flustered than Steve’s ever seen him.
“Harrington, this is getting kinda humiliating, man.”
Steve smirks before he can stop himself. “Thought that’s what you wanted.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, sinking back against the couch. His face flushes slightly red in a way that puts a strange flutter in Steve’s stomach, seeing how he affected Eddie like that. His hand lands on Eddie’s thigh before he realizes he’s reaching out, feeling how he tenses then relaxes under the touch, looking as silently shocked as Steve feels.
“Not judging, Eddie, I swear. Just let me finish reading, okay?”
Eddie scoffs a nervous laugh, fidgeting and covering his mouth as he nods.
Steve goes back to the journal and his hand tightens just a bit when he sees what’s there. Eddie mutters something, biting down on his knuckles but he doesn’t pull away. It all makes Steve‘s palm heat up against his thigh, reading the next thing Eddie wants.
To be spanked, just hard enough, it’s more about the shame of the sting, the rush that comes from being a little helpless, the release that comes when his body accepts it all as pleasure. Steve pictures it, Eddie Munson, who treats life like a stage only he was meant to walk on, bent over and taking each hit. The way he’d writhe and bask in the humiliation, finally getting treated like the little star of the freakshow he loves to be.
The flutter in Steve’s stomach twists tight and hot because in his weed-hazy mind, it’s his lap that Eddie is lying across, it’s his palm stinging and making Eddie whimper, it’s him that Eddie’s looking up at with watery eyes begging to be ruined.
Steve swallows thickly when he comes to the next thing. The handcuffs. He’s always been transfixed by Eddie’s hands, how nice they look in all his bulky silver rings and chain bracelets.
He wonders if Eddie would look even better in handcuffs.
His eyes wander over to Eddie’s hands again, where he still happens to have two fingers bitten between his teeth, cheeks flushed and eyes widened at Steve. It’s a sight Steve doesn’t have time to really revel in how it makes him feel because Eddie darts forward, snatching the journal.
“Alright okay, I think you get it, the freak is into freaky shit, big surprise.”
Steve drags a hand through his hair, plays it cool even though he’s hot all over for some reason. “Yeah, you’re pretty freaky, but it doesn’t seem like much you’re asking for. I mean, nothing I couldn’t see myself doing.”
And Steve didn’t mean it like that, did he? Eddie seems to think so, he starts floundering to put the journal away, nervously laughing and muttering again. Steve watches him, trying to figure out why he likes seeing Eddie so flustered, then Eddie suddenly stops.
His eyes flick down to Steve’s lap and—
Oh.
“Steve… why do you have a boner right now?”
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forcheol · 5 months
Text
౨ৎ squishy — csc
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synopsis i actually don’t even have one, the title kinda sums it up! pairing seungcheol x fem reader genre fluff. word count 0.9k
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"you're so squishy, just squishy everywhere," you blurt out as you lay on your side, facing your boyfriend, "can you be my walking talking squishy, cheol?"
it's one of those nights where you and seungcheol lay in bed, still awake at 1:18am because neither of you can fall asleep. during these types of nights, you and seungcheol talk about all types of topics ranging from how you're going to surprise or prank the next person from the friendship group to reminiscing about your individual childhood memories. the conversations sometimes became deep and philosophical, you both have good points when debating yet end up arguing over who's right.
seungcheol stares at you as if you've just insulted his whole family and kkuma.
"why are you staring at me like that?"
"baby, what kind of question is that?" seungcheol laughs at you, finally ceasing the death stare, laughter bubbles out of him and his eyes crinkle at the corners.
"cherry, just answer it, can you be my walking talking squishy?"
"hm, i don't know about that…" he trails off, pretending to think hard about it.
you sneakily reach your hand over and behind him, as if to just hug him, and give his butt a squish. seungcheol flinches backwards and you yank your hand away and clasp it with your other on your chest, turning to the ceiling and whistling as if you didn't just lovingly touch your boyfriend's ass. you can feel seungcheol's wide eyes burning holes into the side of your face.
"hey, what was that for!"
"huh?" you turn to look at your pouty boyfriend, "what are you talking about?"
putting on an act and playing dumb makes seungcheol pout even more, his eyebrows lowering a little as if to scowl at you. he wouldn't do it for real though, he could never scowl at you.
you lean over and give him a kiss right on his pretty lips, letting out a loud 'mwah!' when you move back. your hands quickly move to his cheeks and you push them together. seungcheol's eyebrows return to their normal resting point and he's no longer pouting but fighting the biggest urge to start giggling like a schoolgirl at your actions.
“so, what did you decide?” you press him for his answer. you know it’s not that important but asking silly questions is so entertaining, especially when the answerer is choi seungcheol, aka the easiest to poke fun at.
“i have decided,” he pauses in an attempt to create suspense, “that…yes, i will be your walking talking squishy,”
“yay! now, i can s–”
“but!” he cuts you off before you can even celebrate properly, “you can’t touch my gluteus maximus, it is not free real estate.”
“what! but that’s how i release my stress,” you purse your lips at his comment. you know seungcheol is still joking at this point but playing along is so fun. secretly, he likes it when you smack his ass while passing by him. he lets you do it, he lets you do anything to him which is why sometimes you even end up biting his bicep because of all the cuteness aggression you get when you’re around him.
“i thought you bite my arms to release stress?”
“hey, people need to switch things up from time to time, you know,”
“whatever you say. i think i deserve something in return though, don’t you think?”
you sigh and roll your eyes, “and what would that be, hm?”
seungcheol turns his head to the side slightly and puffs out one cheek. then, he pokes that cheek with his forefinger. you stare at him with a bored look and when you don’t go along with his antics, he turns back to you.
“baby,” he whines out, “come on, hm? please? pretty please?”
he bats his eyelashes at you in an attempt to get you to kiss him. his eyelashes are pretty, you think for a moment.
seungcheol does the same thing again and this time you give in, leaning forward to kiss his round cheek. when you move back, he smiles softly at you, both dimples displayed on his rosy cheeks.
there’s this monster (it’s a good monster) inside you that makes you want to crush seungcheol in a hug and squish his cheeks with both of your hands forever because of how cute he is.
that’s exactly what you do, though. you couldn’t hold back, it was way too difficult when he’s just lying there, looking so adorable for no reason.
“cherry, sit up.”
he doesn’t know why you’re asking that but he does it anyways, it’s not like he would ever say no to you.
you lunge at him, throwing your arms around his thick neck and then proceeding to jump into his lap to wrap your legs around his waist. you squeeze your arms and legs around him and he grunts at the strength you use.
“baby, what are you doing?” he manages to get out, given how hard your arms were squeezing his neck.
your throat makes a nose similar to a dinosaur’s roar, “i’m loving you! but stop being so cute or i’ll explode!”
laughter bubbles out of seungcheol’s throat, his chest rumbling with the sound. you’re trying not to burst at the seams and he’s laughing? that’s really mean of him.
“stop laughing or i’ll kiss you until you can’t breathe!”
“i think i’d be sad if you didn’t do that, baby.”
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hoshieeyewrinkles · 3 months
Text
S t r a w b e r r y p r i n t e d
(nct dream x reader)
Tw warning: non-con, drugs uses, intoxication, humiliation, degradation, perv! Dreamies, angst ig. Minors dni
A/n: Y'all I wrote this when I was sleepy and tired af, didn't like how it went
Haechan, who sits next to you in class and becomes so casually friends with you that you never would have known he is a huge pervert, as are his friends who dared him to do so so they could all make crude remarks about you while he discreetly takes up skirt pictures of yours.
He would say as they jerked off together, "I told you she has the cutest cunt."
Haechan who buys you popsicles and candies watching you suck on them while he pretends to take your cute pictures. All while he is sending it in his group chat.
"y'all seeing this whore suck that popsicle like a dick?"
"Jaemin was right, he always has an eye for total sluts"
When you complain that you have no friends but him, Haechan offers to introduce you to his friends. You gladly agree because Haechan's friends are most likely as civil and fun as him.
You were surprised to be brought to a lavish mansion finding his friends smoking in, a cloud of smoke hung in the air, thick enough to almost be tangible. Their eyes, red nd glassy, seemed to pierce through you, each one a predator sizing up its prey. And then, you saw them. All incredibly handsome, impossibly so, their gazes fixed on you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, you stumbled towards the couch, collapsing beside Haechan. A ripple of laughter followed.
"Wanna try, sweetheart?" Jaemin's voice, smooth as honey, offered his joint. You shook your head, feeling his intense gaze like a physical weight on your skin. Nervousness gnawed at you, making your fingers flutter like trapped butterflies.
"Chill, Jaem," Mark chuckled, casually dropping into the space beside you and draping an arm across your shoulder. "You're scaring the poor thing."
Ignoring his touch, you kept your eyes glued to your lap, desperately avoiding their scrutiny.
"You know Haechan never shuts up about you," Jeno drawled, winking at the boy beside you. Haechan reached out and placed a reassuring hand on your plush thigh smirking at you. "His words got us all hooked, sweetheart," Chenle, the one with the designer clothes, purred, his dark eyes gazing through you "We just had to meet the girl who stole his attention."
Haechan tried to persuade you by putting his joint forward and saying, "Just one puff, baby." Not wanting to be a joy-killer, you took a puff after noticing their anticipatory stares and discovered that it was addictive after just one. It was impossible not to take another drag. It seemed as if the time passed by so quickly as you sat on Mark's lap and caressed his chest in a completely high state, the boys laughed at your eagerness, and Jisung pulled out his phone to record you. Marks stares back at you puffing out smoke on your face before pulling you in for a sloppy kiss while fondling your ass under your skirt.
"Oh my fucking god!" Jeno laughed in disbelief after seeing your strawberry printed panties. "I mean it kinda turns me on..." Chenle joined in the laughter. You continued to make out with Mark without a care in world, completely out of your senses.
Everything felt like a dream: you being stripped naked and left in your strawberry printed panties in a doggy position, Jeno rapidly fingering your ass, Jaemin and Mark latching onto your tits, your hands occupied with Chenle and Haechan's cocks and Jisung filming you guys.
Darkness took your senses, yet a tiny thought flickered, why did you find pleasure in this mess, this dirt and shame? Were you really this - someone begging for humiliation? To be assaulted by these boys and haechan- haechan was someone you trusted. You felt sick, your whole being screaming against this awful scene. Maybe, you thought, this was always you, the hidden truth. Shame and wanting fought inside you, a messy, painful struggle. Even as you hated yourself, waves of pleasures flowed through you.
"fuck man... She is dripping" Mark let out a hoarse moan at the sight of your dripping cunt.
Hours passed, and you were passed out on the couch, hickeys covering your entire chest and neck, sore from every corner, handprints left on your thighs and throat. You were mumbling incoherent sentences, lost in the high. All the boys had collapsed, but Haechan was still lapping on your tits as if they were his last meal.
"This motherfucker has lost it..." Jaemin grumbled in a groggy state, lightly kicking Haechan, who chose to ignore him while the other boys laughed weakly.
"Can we keep her?" Jisung inquired timidly; for a brief moment, a wave of guilt washed over him, but he brushed it off knowing you clearly enjoyed it. You were begging for more, it doesn't matter if you weren't in your senses. Your body gave all the reactions they needed, right?
"We brought this whore here for a reason, of course we are gonna keep Ms.strawberries around for a while well if she wishes to..." Chenle replied narrowing his eyes.
"clearly..." Jeno let out a mocking laugh, as they nudged each other waiting for you to come into senses. A potent potion of exhilaration intoxicated their minds, blurring the lines between right and wrong. Guilt held no sway over them, nor did regret's sting pierce their hearts. You, with your dignity and vulnerability laid bare, were like a beacon to their darkness.
629 notes · View notes
byechristopher · 3 months
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pleaseee a fic where chris and reader meet for the first time (she's lowkey sad or some shit like that idk) and he's all starstruck by her 😞
lucky you.
–CHRIS STURNIOLO FLUFF.
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Author's note: hey y'all. I got the idea from this lovely anon (thank you for the request!🤍) and combined it with something that actually happened to me. Fate truly works in mysterious ways – so take this long, sappy story (based on true events, pft). I hope you like it! Do not copy/steal my work. :)
Warnings: long, sappy fluff. Very slight angst if you squeeze, but nothing crazy. Very long, didn't proofread!
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My mom used to always say – "that's life; when one door closes, another door opens". And if I still lived in the same house with mom, she'd know; I haven't seen an opened door in a long while. It is unfair but it is what it is and I had no intention of succumbing to tears in the solitude of my nightly despair.
Seated on the chilled bench, I instinctively drew my knees towards my chest in a desperate bid for warmth. The sheer elegance of my black tights, though adorning my legs, proved futile against the biting cold. Unfazed, I refrained from complaining; after all, they were my cherished favorites. Mascara was most likely smudged from my previous ugly crying, yet I ignored it, taking solace in my sweater's embrace.
Leaning my head against my knees, my fingers absentmindedly engaged with the laces of my shoes – a subconscious act of distraction. In the midst of this self-imposed solitude, a sudden exclamation pierced the quietude.
"Shit!" I heard a voice, someone angry. The mysterious guy threw his hat on the pavement and scoffed, his hair nearly as messy as mine. His gaze shifted towards me, a thorough assessment from head to toe, "care if I sit next to you?" he asked quickly. Without much ado, I responded with a nonchalant shrug. I didn't care, I had way more things to worry about.
I could feel him rummaging through his pockets, trying to find God knows what, he seemed upset, anxious, "want a cig?" I didn't see him, but I saw his extended arm in front of me. I don't think he was looking at me either.
"Sure." I murmured under my breath, taking a cigarette from him half-empty packet.
"Why does life have to be such a fucking bitch?" I chuckled in response, treating it more as a statement than a question. Offering another shrug, I watched as he scanned the area, likely in search of his lighter.
"If I had the answer to that, I'd probably murder this bitch." I chuckled, he chuckled too.
He held the lighter in front of me and only then did I turn my head to look at him – he was definitely not what I expected to see from what I've heard. While I didn't dwell on it for long, it seemed he did, as seconds passed without his lighter igniting. His intense pale blue eyes remained fixed on mine, and I briefly removed the cigarette from my mouth.
"Hello?" was my mascara that smudged that I scared the guy? He hasn't uttered a word.
"Oh.. sorry." he shook his head, as though attempting to shake off the reverie that had consumed him in the past few moments in his own world, "I just.. didn't expect you to be here?"
"Well.. I'm pretty sure we haven't met before. So how come you didn't expect me?.." I was confused.
"No, I mean.. you are very beautiful." he almost whispered but I caught that, and if I was just a little disconnected from reality, I probably would've blushed.
"Oh. Thank you." my lips turned into a thin line – I put the cigarette back into my mouth, grabbing his lighter instead.
He chuckled, "and I thought I didn't know how to take a compliment." he took his lighter back, taking a puff of his own cigarette.
"Don't you hear like a thousand compliments on a daily basis?" with my knees still pulled up to my chest, I embraced them tightly, resting my head against the comforting curve of my legs.
"Hm. And yet this was the best compliment anyone has ever given me." he placed a leg on the bench, just so that he'd be able to have his whole body face me.
I couldn't help but laugh, "yeah, I'm good at giving things. Not receiving."
He nodded, his hat still on the ground although he didn't seem to care, "understood.." he smiled and wow, he had a nice smile, almost contagious, "a fellow people pleaser, nice to meet you. I'm Chris."
I reciprocated with a nod and a quick smile. My name slipped off my lips swiftly, echoed by him, and I couldn't help but notice how much better it sounded when it rolled off his tongue.
"Will I ever see you again?" he looked me dead in the eye.
"Probably not." I pursed my lips, looking back at him.
He nodded as if he understood and dropped his burnt cigarette to the ground. Chris grabbed his hat and got up, offering another smile, "I believe in fate."
"I don't." I teased, smiling.
"You probably should." he shouted, already far away from me to speak normally.
What an interaction.
It had been quite a while since said interaction. Not that I thought about the guy a lot, but he definitely was in the back of my mind. Even when I was outside, he'd still cross my mind every now and then, like a nice, distant memory.
I chuckled as I gulped down my whiskey – the music was too loud for my own liking but it was a Saturday night and it'd be a pity if I stayed home once again; my friends begged and I actually like hanging out with them. I watched as my friends danced with each other, not too far away from me, as I rummaged through my purse to find the money so I could pay and leave.
"Fucking.. shit.." I cursed under my breath, turning my phone's flashlight on because the lights in that bar were bright as fuck, but apparently not enough to actually help me see.
"D'you need any help?" I heard a somewhat familiar voice shouting behind me. I turned around and my eyes widened when I saw him.
"I.. you!" I was beyond surprised, to say the least, because I was truly convinced I'd never see him again. Not because I didn't want it; but because I had enough on my plate already.
"Shit.." he whispered, and if I wasn't already looking at his lips, I wouldn't be able to know what he said, "..see, I told you fate works in mysterious ways."
"This was just a coincidence." I convince myself.
Was it, though?
"This was no coincidence and you know it.." he grinned and I let my eyes travel down his body for a few seconds – he looked best in black, ".. I need to see you again.." he muttered.
"Well, it seems you will indeed see me again." I smiled.
"Does that mean you'll give me your phone number?" he grinned and I saw his eyes do the same thing mine did to him; check me out.
I hummed, "..hmm.. no. We'll see if fate actually works." I smiled.
"You can't be serious.." he tilted his head, looking at me in disbelief, "I found you again, how can I leave when I don't know if I'll ever see you again?"
"You said you believed in fate."
I found him undeniably attractive and intriguing. However, at that moment, I realized I wasn't emotionally equipped to entertain the idea of liking someone or embarking on dates. The weight of my personal struggles loomed large, and I couldn't shake the fear that if he discovered the extent of my problems, he'd likely reject me. Hence, I concluded it was better to distance myself now rather than risk inevitable disappointment later on.
It's not like I'd see him again.
Truly, it's been more than a month since I last saw him; I did think about him way more often than usual but he still remained a nice, distant memory. A memory that was in the past and would never be in the future.
"Yo, we're leaving already? It's 2AM." my friend whined, although we were already walking down the stairs, toward the exit, with our jackets on and bags in our hands.
"No, love, we're just taking our fucking bags for a little walk." another friend replied, rolling her eyes and I couldn't help but laugh at their bickering.
Immediately after departing from the bar, he made his way out of the restaurant located directly beneath it. You have to be fucking kidding me.
"You.." he whispered, his eyes widened.
My mouth hung open, my eyes as wide as his; I really couldn't believe it this time. This couldn't be a coincidence, right?
"What.. are you doing here?" there was nothing else that could leave my mouth at that time.
"I work here.. now, you can't tell me this is a coincidence." he walked closer to me, although still keeping a distance to be respectful.
It definitely wasn't but I was still in the same mood I was back then.
"I can't tell just yet." I teased him; deep down I wished I could give him way more. But I knew I couldn't.
"Don't.. tell me.. are you not gonna give me your phone number? Again?" he chuckled in disbelief once again. I nodded.
"He better be a murderer, bitch; that's the only valid reason for you not giving him your phone number yet." shit, I completely forgot that my friends were literally behind me, staring at us; they knew nothing about this.
"Stop." I whispered to my friend and I don't think she heard me but she definitely saw the expression on my face.
"Please?" he said and I almost gave in when I saw those eyes.
I have always been self-destructive but this wasn't it, this time. It was realistic, right? I really couldn't do this; I knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with my lifestyle so I was just doing me a favor by saving myself from possible heartbreak. Right?
"I promise you now; if we meet again, I'm opening up to you. Fully. My phone number, my likes, my diskikes." I gave him a teasing smile, which he seemed happy to receive.
"Pinky promise. Now. I trust fate but not you." he chuckled and so did I.
"But you trust my pinky?" I laughed but he seemed serious, despite his playful stare. I sighed, still smiling, wrapping my pinky around his, "..promise."
This would probably never happen. It's fine.
This time, I really thought about him; dreamed about him even. That was very unlike me but it happened either way. I seemed to be doing lots of things that were unlike me lately – like going to this bar again. I wasn't going to see him but I was hoping to.
The whiskey was cold against my lips, my black dress hugging my hips as I sat down on the couch.
"Third time's the charm."
No.
I turned my head and saw Chris speaking to the friend group that were sitting next to ours; I saw them getting up and leaving, Chris replacing them.
"Oh God.. what did you tell them?" my grin was wider than usual, I really wanted to see him after all.
"That.. I needed to sit next to you. And that it was a matter of life and death." he smiled, taking a sip of his own drink.
"You're crazy."
"For you." he said, searching for something.
Before realising, I saw his phone in front of me, signaling me to dial my phone number. And of course, I did.
"So. Start. Tell me everything."
"Do you have free time?" I tilted my head, still looking at him.
"For you? Always." he chuckled.
I cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer, looking into his eyes to make sure he wanted to kiss me as well. And as soon as I felt him leaning towards me, I placed the softest kiss on his own soft lips.
"Take me home?"
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divineei · 5 months
Text
TOOTM  zero. old beginnings
! go kyungjun x fem!reader
# relationship lore, first meeting, heavy infatuation, mentions of kyung jun having daddy and mommy issues
a/n. chill yall i swear im putting my whole authorussy on this
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months before the school trip…
rain pours on top of the bus stop's roof. although tiny, the cover is enough to prevent kyung jun's clothes from getting even wetter.
if only he had brought an umbrella. he was in such a rush to get out of his house after yet another fight with his parents, he didn't even hear the water falling from the sky before it was too late and was already running around the streets.
kyung jun had no idea how long had passed since he stormed out, not that he cared anyway. he considered this ten times better than all the yelling at home. when he managed to ignore the cold, the little bus stop was peaceful; quiet.
or it was.
he dug in his pocket to take out a cigarette and put it in his mouth when the sound of hurried footsteps stepping on puddles distracted him. he turned his head towards the noise, immediately setting eyes on the figure sprinting towards him: a girl in winter clothes held a bag above her head as a shield from the rain while she ran in his direction. she stopped right next to him, breathing heavily and drenched in water.
kyung jun turned his attention back to his tobacco. he paid her no mind. why would he? he had enough to deal with seeing as he also fell victim to the pouring rain.
he felt the weight of the stranger sitting at the other end of the bench as he took out his lighter. however, rolling the flint wheel was useless as only a spark came out. he tried again. and again. and again, but still no flame. kyung jun's breath rose erratically and his pent-up frustration with it.
"fucking piece of shit", he sent the thing flying with as much force he could manage, making it break into pieces. was nothing supposed to work in his favor? he can't stop misbehaving like he promised his mother, he can't be the top of his class like he promised his father, he can't stop himself from lashing out right in their faces; for fucks sake he can't even light a cigarette. maybe they were right: he was worthless.
out of the corner of his eye, he saw something being handed to him. the stranger had reached her arm out with a lighter in hand. kyung jun's eyes varied from it to the face he'd been ignoring: drops of water were falling from her hair to her cheeks, she wore headphones around her neck and a lit cigarette between her parted lips, with eyes that stared at him through wet lashes, waiting for him to accept the offer.
he reached for the lighter, brought it close to him, and finally took a puff of his cigarette.
"you okay?", asked the pretty girl.
he looked back at her, seemingly taken aback by her interest but nodding nonetheless.
their interaction was cut short with a quick smile from her as she put her headphones on.
in his mind, kyung jun caught himself juggling feelings from shame to disappointment, realizing maybe he wanted somebody to ask if he was alright. he wouldn't have minded an opening to more conversation, even if it was to forget his troubles for just a few minutes. but he understood. i mean, who would care about a stranger on the streets anyway? who would care about him anyway?
the time passed as quickly as did his pack of cigarettes and now, with an empty box in his pocket, kyung jun's anger was rising once again. not because of the distress of his mind though but because of the loud music disturbing his peace.
after what felt like hours of trying to ignore the noise, he decided he had enough and aggressively waved his hand to catch the girl's attention.
"mmh?", she looked at him and removed one of the speakers.
"turn that shit off."
"excuse me?" she scoffed raising her brows.
"i said," kyung jun pointed at the headphones that were now around her neck, "turn it off. it's fucking annoying me."
she let out a teasing chuckle. was she... laughing at him right now? "fuck off. i'll listen to my music however i want."
...the fuck? his mouth opened in disbelief. this was a first. nobody, and i mean nobody, would even think of talking back to him like that.
"who do you think you're talking to?" he turned his body to her with a scowl intimidating enough to make anyone at his school go running with their tail between their legs.
"someone with no taste in music, apparently."
damn, she really was laughing at him.
kyung jun's mouth opened to fight back but no words came out. he couldn't believe it. he was stunned. did the rain wash out every threatening aspect of him?
it could be the cold, the shock, the contagious smirk of the pretty girl, or maybe the exhaustion finally catching on to him, but for whatever reason, he couldn't find it in him to say anything back. so he laughed. just slightly. some probably would consider it more of a defeated sigh. but he did.
"what?"
her smile was taunting him, provoking him to keep talking.
"nothing", yet he didn't have the energy for it, not right now. so today, he'd let it slide.
her smile shifted from cheeky to genuine when he brushed her off. as much as she enjoyed the banter, she had enough awareness not to tease any further.
"you know what," instead, she disconnected her headphones before handing her phone to the guy. "if my music is so annoying to you, show me something better."
kyung jun frowned, but a small smile graced his face, betraying his attempt at indifference.
and so he accepted her offer, for the second time that day.
minutes went by with surface-level conversation and recommended songs. it was a pleasant distraction for him, at least enough to make him miss the way his pulse merged with the beats of the tunes. they enjoyed their time together until the faint sound of wheels appeared in the distance. turning off the music, the pretty girl stood up in front of him.
oh right, the bus.
for a second, he forgot where they were.
"well, that's my ride" she announced, just seconds before said ride stopped before them.
for a second, time seemed to freeze.
the girl said something else, but whatever it was fell on deaf ears. it felt like his senses were failing him all of a sudden.kyung jun sat there, helpless and paralyzed, as he watched her walk away. a chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to break out all over his body. his mind was screaming at him to do something, anything, to make her stay just a little bit longer. he wanted to ask for her name, to strike up more conversation, to find out who she was and where she was going. but he couldn't bring himself to move. all he could do was see her disappear, without time to wonder what might have been.
when he came to his senses the bus was out of sight, and the empty spot on the bench felt heavier than ever.
kyung jun looked at the sky. there was not a single ray of sun to be seen, but at least the rain had finally stopped. he leaned back and just as his hands came to rest in his pockets he touched something cold. he took it out, eyes falling on a lighter. her lighter.
he could feel the beat of his heart against his ribcage. why? where did all this adrenaline come from? since when has he become so soft as to let such a flimsy little thing make his head spin and his face fire up?
"fuck", he cursed to the skies.
as the days went by, his intense but short-lived experience with that stranger remained fresh in the back of his mind. no matter how many times he tried to blur her face she was like a ghost that reappeared every time he looked away, a fading memory he couldn't fully forget. 
at the back of the school's building kyung jun took the last puff of his cigarette just when the bell announced the start of classes. he dropped what was left of it on the floor at the same time his two companions dropped the innocent student they had been tormenting. they walked together to their classroom with the same enthusiasm as a kid who received a pair of socks for christmas and sat in the back row. 
"good morning, class", the teacher greeted as she stood in front of the students, who immediately saluted back.
kyung jun rolled his eyes and laid down on his desk with no thought other than finding the perfect position for the three-hour nap he was about to take until his next break, wondering if his dreams would finally be undisturbed by images of the one he couldn't fail to recall again and again. 
"alright," the teacher clasped her hands to get the class' attention. "before starting our lesson, i'm pleased to inform you that we have a new student coming in today and i hope you'll help them accommodate to the school."
already starting to doze off, kyung jun's eyes remained closed even after someone knocked on the door and the tutor welcomed them in. "welcome, please come in and introduce yourself."
"hello everyone, my name is yoon yn. i hope we get along well."
what the...?
his eyes shot open. 
there's no way. no fucking way.
he saw the new student politely bowing at the front of the room like she wasn't the same that had been living in his mind rent free day, night, and day again. 
"thank you. please, take a sit."
she walked like in slow motion towards the back of the room and, for a split second, their eyes met. the idea that he must've already fallen into a deep slumber invaded him when she sent him a subtle smile before sitting just a few sits away from him.
the teacher regathered the attention of the room and started her lesson. needless to say, his plan of breezing through the school day with a nap got ruined.
hours passed insanely slow until the bell rang through the speakers and announced a much-needed break. 
having pulled up two chairs by his side, jin-ha was cracking up at something on seung-bin's phone. whatever it was, kyung jun couldn't care less. his eyes were set on the crowd surrounding the new girl as his classmates smothered her with questions and compliments.
"are you new in town, yn?"
"what school did you use to go to?"
"were you in any clubs?"
"well–", yn tries to answer in between the frenzy.
"O-M-G, you should join our cheerleading group!" interrupted mi-na.
"im not interested in any clubs, thank you" yn declined with a smile.
"oh, of course." said so-mi, "someone like you was probably on the student council, right? you can always help me and jun-hee with-"
"i'll pass. thank you, so-mi."
"woaah, the class president got rejected!" heo yool pointed out and the small crowd joined in the teasing.
in the chaos of it all, she managed to find him staring. the moment was brief, yet enough for kyung jun's heart to skip a beat. 
"you know her?" 
"huh?"
"do you know her?", jin ha repeated. "the new girl."
kyung jun hesitated but shook his head, "no, i don't."
"could it be?", seung bin dramatised. "does ko kyung jun have a crush?" 
his friends patted his back, mocking him, and giggled in unison. 
"shut up," kyung jun sighed and leaned back on his chair closing his eyes with his arms crossed, trusting they'd get the hint that his temper was better off not tested.
"he didn't say no," seung bin whispered, gaining a repressed chuckle from jin ha.
boring lessons and occasional glances between the delinquent and the new student continued throughout the day until finally the moment to get out that hellhole arrived. 
by the time kyung jun had his bag over one shoulder and ready to go the class was almost empty. yoon yn was putting away her stuff without any rush as if she wasn't the only one left in the classroom.
"hey, kyung jun!" seung bin shouted from the door. "you coming or not?"
"nah," he answered without turning his eyes away from the girl. "i'll see you tomorrow."
with a shrug, seung bin left the room with jin ha following after him, not before exchanging a knowing look.
"move, nerd!" was the last thing heard from the two vandals out on the hall before they left. 
kyung jun approached yn with the same caution you do a stray cat in fear it'll run away and with each step, his pulse accelerated. as the girl cleaned up her belongings, he leaned on the desk next to hers wth his hands inside his trousers' pockets.
"the uniform doesn't suit you, you know?"
she turned to him–smirking–their eyes met and, for the first time today, neither looked away.
"i could say the same for you", yn crossed her arms.
"i'd say it's better than wet clothes.", he shrugged.
"please," the girl rolled her eyes, "it was just a little rain."
"a little rain?", kyung jun repeated. "you were literally running with your bag on your head."
"you were watching me?", yn put a hand over her chest and furrowed her brows, yet her smug smile remained. "you weirdo."
"look who's talking, you fucking stalker."
"excuse me? why the fuck would i stalk you?", she pointed at him.
"you tell me," he teased, lifting his hands. "you're the one in my school."
kyung jun kept staring at yn waiting for another one of her snarky comments but instead she tightly closed her lips together.
"what?" he provoked.
unable to hold back any longer, she let out a peal of laughter which made kyung jun's eyes widen as much as his own smile. he couldn't help it, her laugh was contagious and the situation was amusing. randomly meeting someone and obsessing over them to later find out they just enrolled in the same school as you is something you would only see in movies; or fanfiction.
yet here they were.
"nothing", yn smiled, finally gathering her stuff and putting her backpack over her shoulder, ready to leave.
leave?
flashes of the day he thought he'd never see her again flooded kyung jun's mind. he couldn't bear it. to someone else, this might seem extreme; desperate. now that they were classmates he'd most likely see her every day, so why even panic in the first place? but maybe, just maybe, he was desperate. to him, seeing her leave felt devastating. like a reminder of the day his whole body failed to even ask her name. but if the universe saw it necessary for them to meet again, that meant he wasn't supposed to let her go, right?
kyung jun clumsily opened his backpack and took out the trinket he'd been carrying around since that rainy day, handing it to her.
yn stared at him with her eyebrows wrinkled.
"here", the guy insisted, slightly shoving the lighter toward her.
"why?"
"'fuck you mean why? it's yours."
"i told you to keep it. you didn't hear me?"
"oh," he felt what seemed like a heatwave run through his neck and ears. "i guess not."
"all that shit you gave me about my loud music and look at you." she mocked.
the guy lowered his head. he would have run away right then and there to avoid any more embarrassment if it wasn't for the little pride he still had.
"hey, uh..." she paused. "sorry, what's your name?"
all this time and he still hadn't introduced himself? fuck, he really couldn't do anything right, huh? 
"ko kyung jun."
"right. so, kyung jun, since it's such a nice day out i was wondering if you'd be free to show me around?" 
like on queue, sunshine started squeezing through the window’s blinds.
he wasn't sure if it really was the world roaring at him to see the signs or if she just happened to take pity on him, but whatever it was he felt relieved, and his anxiety washed away the moment he lifted his head to look at the girl with her arm extended.
this was it, wasn't it? the opportunity he keept missing? 
how many times will she have to reach out until you take the chance, dumbass?, screamed the universe.
"sure", kyung jun uttered. "i can do that."
she offered her hand, and for the final time, he accepted.
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🏷️ @flaneurpastel - @jwijii - @watamotee33
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© to @divineei on tumblr; do not repost or steal
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thebearer · 9 months
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I have a violent mental image of coming home from a girls night after ~a few too many bevvies~ seeing ur hot ass man waiting at home and being like ive literally been wanting to fuck u all night and carmy is like uhh baby youre drunk, we absolutely arent doing that rn, can i offer you a snack perhaps and him dealing w his drunk and now emo girl abt how he wont touch u so he clearly doesnt think ur attractive😭
Carmen had a love hate relationship with your girl's night.
Not in the asshole-jagoff protective "I don't trust my girl" fragile masculinity way, but more so in the- and Carmen meant this in the nicest way, he did- that you were a mess when you were drunk.
He'd offered to pick you up, waiting on the curb outside the restaurant while you hugged and waved your friends goodbye before stumbling over to his car.
"Your Uber's here." Carmen grinned, leaning over to push the door open for you.
"Oh, he's a hot Uber driver, too." You grin, plopping into the seat. "Five stars already." You rasp, your lips hovering over his for a sloppy, sweet kiss.
Carmen's blushing, tasting the wine you drank on your tongue. He can feel the flush in your cheeks, the way your hand threads through the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer and closer to you. You'd been drinking wine, so that meant Carmen was in for a night.
The whole ride home, you were handsy. Carmen nearly crashed the car when you palmed his dick unexpectedly through his jeans, grabbing his groin with a tiny smile.
"C'mon," Carmen's breath hitched, gripping the steering wheel hard. "Let go of me, Angel."
"Don't be mean t'me tonight, Carmy, I missed you." You whined, lip jutting dramatically, head falling against the headrest.
"'m not being mean." Carmen looked over at you pointedly, already seeing your lids droop, the small puffs of air passing out of your lips.
"You are." You grumbled, eyes still closed.
Carmen snorted lightly, but let you rest, slumped against the head rest while he fought his way through Chicago traffic and back to the apartment.
There, you'd seemed to gotten revamped even in your sleepy state. Carmen was helping you out of your clothes, you sprawled out on the bed, letting him shimmy your top off when you wrapped your legs around his hips, locking at the ankles and pushing on his back so he was flush against you.
Carmen grunted, hands bracing by your head to stop him while you laughed wildly. "Hey, Carmy." You smiled, glassy eyes dazzling up at him, bottom lip rolling between your teeth.
"What're you doin'?" Carmen couldn't help but laugh, small and breathy, but you were nothing if not persistent. A woman who knew what she wanted, and Carmen respected that.
"Carmy, I told you." You whined, hands wrapping around his neck. "I missed you tonight." Carmen just laughed. You pouted, head swimming while the room spun around you. "I wanna have sex, Carm."
Carmen snorted at your bluntness, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth, trailing light kisses up your arm so you'd release your grip on him. "How about in the morning? When you're feelin'... better." Better was the last thing you'd be in the morning, Carmen knew that, which is why he set out the Advil already.
"You're no fun, Carm." You pouted dramatically, flopping over on your side, still naked from his failed attempts to put clothes on you.
"Baby, please, let me put your sleep clothes on-"
"-No, it's...it's fine, Carm. I'm hot anyways." You mutter, eyes drooping shut already, snuggled into the soft pillows.
Carmen rolled his eyes, wrestling you under the covers before slipping beside you. He had to turn the other way, away so his back was to yours, hoping and willing his erection to die down so he could sleep. He couldn't help how flustered he got, knowing you were naked next to him, hearing you beg to fuck him. And he would, he would fuck you in the morning, when you were sober and a little hungover, clinging to him and claiming his dick was the best hangover remedy there ever was. But for now, he was just happy you were home here, next to him and asleep.
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subskz · 23 days
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Thoughts on Ceo!Minho who acts subby around secretary!reader?
i’m not the best w ceo/corporate scenarios so bear w me!!
ceo minho always looking so put together and composed w his dapper suit and neatly styled hair. he makes decisions with confidence and gives out orders w a quiet authority, but for some reason when it comes to you, he has a hard time ever really looking you in the eye. his gaze always flickers down when you hand him a stack of paperwork, his voice gets much softer (maybe even timid, if you didn’t know any better~) in comparison to how he usually speaks when you inform him of a meeting he has coming up. it takes you a while to notice, but whenever you commend him on a job well done after a meeting, or when your hand brushes lightly over his when you pass him new files to review, his ears start to burn red 🥰 he just clears his throat and lets out that stifled puff of air, always thanking you politely as if he’s your subordinate
he wants your attention and it starts to show more and more. he may start off a lil awkward at first but eventually his growing interest in you has him acting out of the ordinary, just for a chance to have your eyes on him. he asks you to sit in on meetings with him so he can get your opinion on things, always flashing you subtle glances and shifting in his seat to see if you’re watching him, he’ll call you into his office for things that could easily be communicated remotely, he’ll linger near your desk in the morning w his coffee before heading to his office. maybe he even starts bringing coffee for the whole staff just for a chance to interact w you some more. and ofc the more comfortable he grows w you the he starts to tease you, bc that’s the best way lino knows how to get your attention~
he starts to leave playful sticky notes on your computer, stealing pens off your desk and batting his eyelashes innocently at you when you find them in his office. he has a habit of nibbling on his pens, too, so sometimes he’ll pull it right out of his pretty little mouth and hand it to you. he “accidentally” mixes up your coffees so he can accuse you of stealing his like the sneaky coy little kitty he is, but you can see the way his smug grin wavers a little when you take a sip of his drink before handing it back to him, and suddenly he’s to flustered to say anything back. every time he gets a laugh out of you or you shoot him an amused look, he just gets more and more obsessed. he wants you to fully return his banter without worrying abt your positions, he wants you to speak sternly w him the same way you do w your colleagues, it excites him more than it probably should when you lift an eyebrow at him and ask why he’s slacking off so much when he teases you. he wants to rile you up so much that you put him in his place
and that’s how he ends up handcuffed to his office chair, still half-dressed in his suit with his pants unzipped just enough for you to pull his dick out, w his shirt unbuttoned and draped over his hips ♡ since he’s so determined to distract you from your work, you take calls for him w one hand while your other hand toys with his cock, edging him over and over, not allowing him to cum until you’ve finished your tasks. and ofc the phone is on speaker so he desperately has to keep quiet or the person on the other line will hear every frustrated grunt and sweet, breathy moan he lets slip. it’s especially fun when you pull your hand away right before his orgasm bc that’s when he gets the loudest. the scrunched up look on his face is so adorable as his hips chase after your hand and the pathetic whines rise in his throat, but he has to force himself to swallow them down bc he knows if he makes too much noise you’ll threaten to transfer the call to him and show your business partners just how much of a needy whore their respectable ceo actually is <3
it’d be extra fun to stuff his mouth with a ballgag or even his own underwear since he loves having his mouth full of your pens so much <3 and that way you can keep answering calls in peace without worrying too much abt his cute muffled moans disturbing you. on days where he’s being especially provocative, acting out for your attention just shamelessly enough that the other employees might catch on, you get to watch him suffer through an entire meeting w a remote controlled vibrator inside him turned to the lowest setting. by the time it’s over he’s got little indents in his fingers from biting down so hard on them, and his legs practically buckle the moment you step into his office with him. his dick is so hard you can see it throbbing through his pants when he spreads his thick thighs for you. it’s a rare occasion where you have him on his knees without having to break him first ♡
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0blobthefish0 · 2 months
Text
Partygirl Part 2
leighton murray masterlist | main masterlist
Part 1
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Leighton Murray x Female Reader 1769 words
a/n - finally, it is here! i literally had this all written out except for the last part before the 17th, but I am incapable of writing cute date scenes, so this'll have to do 😅
You stir awake and your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you screw your eyes shut. Throbbing pain was incessantly stabbing at your brain, there was no way you didn't have any nerves in there because all you wanted to do was take the damn thing out. What the fuck did you drink last night, the whole bar?
Letting out a defeated sigh, you slowly opened your eyes and brought a hand to your head in an attempt to soothe the ache. Wait..
You froze.
Where were you? You questioned as your eyes adjusted to the dark. God, did you actually follow through with a one night stand? You could now hear, and not to mention feel, the soft puffs of someone breathing. You chewed on your bottom lip, nervously, as you wracked your aching brain for a solution. You nearly choke on a gasp when you feel a pair of arms tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against the other person.
Your eyebrows furrow - boobs? What the hell happened last night? And you almost feel proud of yourself until, you realise that you're still fully clothed, and now you feel horrified; how did you half fail a one night stand?
God, this was so embarrassing.
But then, you smell something familiar, expensive, and you finally pull yourself together enough to take a peek at the mystery person.
You hear yourself squeak and a hand flies to cover your mouth and you can't tell if looking was a good idea because, somehow, your heart is beating faster than it already was. You feel her hand slip from your waist and you feel as if your soul has lifted itself outside of your body.
"Y/n," you hear her croak out, her voice thick with sleep.
You let a stretched-out moment pass before replying, "Yes?"
"You okay?" She whispers softly, and you move to lay on your back.
"Yeah, I just- I wasn't expecting to see you there," you explain and Leighton can hear the nervous smile in your voice.
"You were pretty drunk last night," she recalls and she sees you wince in response. "There's some aspirin outside, if you want."
"Ugh, yes please," you say quickly.
You're sat on the sofa when Leighton passes you a bottle of water and an aspirin before taking a seat next to you. You pop the pill into your mouth and take a swig of water, smiling softly to yourself when you find that the bottle was already open. Your pounding headache seemed to dissipate instantly, it may just be a placebo effect, but you were thankful for it nonetheless, and you turned to her with a relieved smile.
"Better?" She questioned and you nodded your head. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, just listening to the quiet through the darkness that no longer seemed so dark.
Leighton couldn't help but be thankful that the room was still dark, otherwise you most likely would have picked up on the pink tint that was dusting her cheeks. The image of you pulling her in close, your hands on her face, the way you looked at her with those drunken eyes and your voice when you called her pretty was all that she could think about. Goosebumps began to litter her arms as she shook herself out of her daze.
"I should probably get going," you announced quietly and Leighton turned to see you hugging your arms.
"You could always stay y'know? I'm sure your roommate wouldn't be too happy with you," Leighton inputted, "and you do live in the other building." You had to fight the hopeful feeling from growing as you turned to look at her; did she want you to stay? No, she was just being nice, anyone sane would offer the same.
"Really, you don't mind?" You smiled sheepishly.
"No, I wouldn't have offered if I did," she shrugged and got up from the sofa to stand in front of you. "But you need to wear something more comfortable first cause," you watched as Leighton eyed your outfit before lightly shaking her head and gave you her hand to help you up from the sofa.
Quietly, the two of you made your way back into the bedroom and you stood beside her as she rifled through her draw for something for you to wear.
"You can get changed in here, or step outside if you want," she whispered to you as she passed you a pair of neatly folded clothes. You nodded your head in reply, quickly spinning on your heel as soon as you saw Leighton reach for the waistband of her jeans. You took a moment to collect yourself and settle your nerves before swiftly slipping out of your dress and pulling on Leighton's shirt and shorts.
"Done?"
"Yeah," you whispered quietly and turned to see her slipping into the bed.
Leighton watched you as you moved closer to her; something about seeing you in her clothes was making her stomach erupt with butterflies, you looked cute. She didn't know why she did it, maybe it was the time of night, or maybe it was an unconscious decision, but she opened up her arms - inviting you in closer - and to her relief you accepted and crawled into her.
"I meant it, y'know?" You confessed and let out a slow yawn.
"Meant what?"
"Nothing, sorry, I'm just tired," you whispered sheepishly, your one second of courage quickly leaving you as soon as those words left your mouth. What you wanted to say, was that when you had drunkenly told her that she was pretty, you were being earnest. You felt Leighton nod her head above you and then the two of you slowly drifted off to sleep once again.
---
You saw Kimberly send you a small smile and you made your way to their table, food in hand.
"Speak of the devil," you hear Bela sigh out as you place your tray on the table and taking the empty seat next to Leighton.
"Why are we talking about me?" You questioned.
"Bela's in a mood-" Whitney began before being promptly interrupted.
"Why didn't you two fuck?" Bela nearly shouted accusingly.
"Woah-"
"Okay! No need to be so crass."
"Just because we both like girls, does not mean that we automatically want to jump each other's bones," you defended with a hushed voice, hyperaware of the people around you.
"Speak for yourself," Bela mumbled, upset, taking a not so discreet jab at Leighton.
"Hey," Leighton gaped, "you're the one that encouraged me!"
"Yeah, I guess I did. I'm just mad, my ship needs to sail; like you literally have all of the materials, get to building!" You shook your head at that with a slight laugh and soon enough the conversation drifted away from the two of you.
You took a forkful of your lunch before turning to Leighton, the movement catching her eye.
"How'd your quiz go?" You asked her.
"Uh- yeah! It was um," Leighton was struggling to hide her shock, she had only mentioned the quiz once, maybe twice, a week ago, "it went well," she nodded with a smile on her face.
She couldn't remember if you said anything after, too concentrated on the way that she was feeling and the way her face was heating up, so much so that she had to turn away and focus in on the conversation at the table.
---
The following week flew by quickly. You were resting on your bed, the relief of finally sitting the exam washing over you, when you felt your phone vibrate. You felt for it and at seeing the caller ID you squinted suspiciously.
"Leighton?"
"Hi."
"Are you.. okay?" You questioned with confusion; Leighton never calls you.
"Yeah, I- is your roommate there?"
"No, she wen-"
You stared, dumbfounded, at your dark screen. She hung up.
knock. knock. knock.
The fuck?
Almost cautiously, you get out of bed and tip-toe your way to the door before cracking it open ever so slightly and then swinging it fully open.
"Leighton? Are you sure you're okay?"
Standing before you, in all her glory, was Leighton Murray dressed to the nines like she always was whilst you stood in pyjamas. It wasn't even necessarily late, possibly just half-past six, but you enjoyed living in comfort.
"Of course, never better," she replied, moving into the room after you turned to the side to let her in.
In reality, Leighton had never felt so anxious in her life. If she hadn't called you on a whim, she most likely would have been back in her dorm by now. She spun around as you closed the door and, were those her pyjamas? She had let you keep them that night, and just seeing you in them was giving her whiplash to last weekend.
"I want to ask you out, on a date," she stated. "I know you said that thing a few days ago about how just because we both like girls we aren't automatically attracted to each other or whatever, and that other thing of people in a relationship should be in different friend groups, which was basically a big fat sign saying 'we're just friends', but you honestly make me feel insane and I can't stop thinking about you like all the fucking time and maybe, hopefully, you like me back or maybe I'm just crazy and delusional and all the signs are just figments of my imagination."
You stared at her with a growing smile as she ranted and now she was partly out of breath as she searched your eyes, and swallowed nervously.
You nodded your head tentatively and Leighton took a small step toward you. 
"I need you to say it," she whispered softly, the words barely passing her lips, her wide, Bambi-eyes on you. She needed to know it was real.
"Yes," you nodded again, "I'd love to go on a date with you." You saw as she visibly relaxed.
"When are you free?"
"Umm.." you began as you sifted through the busy days ahead for a potential gap.
"Now?" Leighton offered and your eyes snapped to her.
"I mean- yeah?"
"Great." You felt Leighton take your hand and begin to lead you out of your room.
"I'm not changed."
"You don't need to be, plus you look cute in my pyjamas."
"Yours? They're mine now," you grinned as the door shut behind you and the two of you made your way out of the building.
"Do you have a plan?" You questioned as you stepped outside.
"Drive."
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ryukatters · 8 months
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4EVA (that means forever) - s. gojo
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⟡ Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader
⟡ Content/warnings: //smut, //cockwarming, //unprotected smex, overstimulation, //cunnilingus, //cum eating, some dub con if you squint, lovesick! Gojo, Gojo’s also a little shit but what’s new? (Pls let me know if I forgot anything) 
⟡ A/N: brain go brrrrr. i want him so bad. completely not proofread
⟡ Summary: I know two things and two things only: 1) Satoru Gojo is obsessed with you and 2) he is obsessed with overstimulating you
⟡ wc: 1.8k
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Your boyfriend is annoying. 
You hate him. You want him. Everything’s too much. It’s not enough.
You snap out of your stupor at the sound of Satoru’s voice. “I thought I told you to focus, sweetheart,” he tuts with a teasing tilt. 
You want to scoff. How could you not focus when the very person asking you to is the same one that’s consuming all your senses? 
“Fuck you, Satoru,” you hiss. Unsurprisingly, no matter how much venom laces your tone, your words go rushing straight to his dick. You’re just too cute, all the time, Satoru thinks. Especially when you’re like this, completely at his mercy. All bark and no bite. Though he wouldn’t mind if you had the latter, either. He likes it when you put up a fight, because making you fall apart is so much sweeter that way. 
You can feel him twitch inside you. The dull throbbing within you makes you shudder with pleasure, still over-sensitive from how Satoru’s managed to fuck you until you’re cock-drunk and delirious. A whine manages to escape from your lips, and Satoru can’t help but laugh. You can snap at him all you want, but he knows exactly how to give it to you, just how you like it. 
“What’s wrong, baby?” he hums into your ear, running his large hands up and down your body in an attempt to comfort you. Goosebumps are left in the wake of where his burning hands pass. “Sensitive, huh? I haven’t even done anything to you.” 
Liar, you think. Gojo’s managed to take orgasm after orgasm out of you— always urging you with a, “It’s okay baby, I’ve got you. You can give me one more, right?” —no matter how much you whine that it’s too much.
He’s insatiable in every regard to you. If he could, Satoru thinks he’d crawl under your skin and live there. 
You want to cry. You feel so very overwhelmed, all senses heightened. The hot puffs of Satoru’s breath over your neck, the way one of his hands squeeze at your tits, and the way the other snakes down between your legs to rub loving circles into your clit.
You gasp at the sudden surge in pleasure, head lolling back to rest on Satoru’s shoulder. You can still feel his lips against your neck, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he presses a kiss followed by a hard suck and loving bite against your jugular. Your hips involuntarily lift up, walls dragging against Satoru’s cock. He hisses before he slams you back down into his lap. 
“Nuh uh, pretty girl,” he borderline growls, hand leaving a warning slap against your clit. “The whole reason we’re here is because you didn’t want to behave. You’re going to take what I give you like the good girl I know you are.”
You nod like you understand, but your mind is far too hazy to take in anything aside from how your boyfriend is making you feel.
“Toru, toru, fuck. I’m gonna cum,” you cry out, nails digging deep crescents into either of your boyfriend’s thighs. 
“Yeah? Cum for me then, sweetheart.” 
The coil that’s slowly been threatening to unravel this whole time suddenly snaps, sending you spiraling into a state of euphoria. The pleasure is so mind-blowing it feels like you’ve ascended to heaven. 
Satoru’s eyes roll back into his head as he lets out a guttural groan. Your pussy pulses around his length, and he only gives a few shallow thrusts before a moan comes tumbling out of his lips and he paints your insides with his cum. His grip on you somehow gets even tighter, strong arms squeezing you as he rides out his orgasm, like his subconscious is determined to meld the two of you into one. 
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You can barely comprehend what’s happening to you as Satoru slips out from behind you, and forces you onto your back as you hit the mattress with a soft thud. Your eyes flutter shut as you come down from your high. 
You feel a dip in the mattress by your legs. Your thoughts go static still. No, it can’t be. Your eyes snap open to see Satoru make himself at home in between your legs for what feels like the hundredth time today. 
He smiles sweetly up at you, planting a few open mouth kisses down your stomach and on the insides of your thighs. Your eyes meet his, and you’re hit with an overwhelming surge of emotions. Satoru’s eyes are blue like the clearest sky, and they could never hide anything from you. Right now, all you can see is pure, unadulterated want. There’s a predatory glint in his eyes that makes your legs feel like jelly. You stiffen, breathing jagged as your heartbeat quickens. 
Satoru wastes no time in pressing a sweet kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. His hands have a vice grip on your hips as you thrash beneath him, willing you to stay in place. 
“Toru, please,” you cry out. It feels like you’re begging, but you’re not quite sure for what. Release? Or for him to let you go so you can wipe that smug grin off his stupidly handsome face? “It’s too much, I can’t—“
“But you can, pretty,” he hums, with so much conviction that you start to believe him too. The subtle vibrations of his murmurs against your pussy do nothing for your near-delirious state. “And you will,” he says with finality.
There’s no room for arguing, because what Satoru wants is what Satoru gets.
And what Satoru wants right now is for you to fall apart even more for him, to feel the squeeze of your thighs against his head as you try to rock your hips against his face until he passes out. 
“Besides,” his tongue prods at your entrance, “we need to clean you up somehow. You’re dripping.” And to prove his point, he drags two fingers inside you, expertly hitting that spongey spot that knocks the wind out of your lungs and has you seeing stars. You can vaguely make out the lewd squelches that fill up the room, and the warm mix of yours and Satoru’s cum dripping out and down your slit. Your boyfriend watches in a trance as the milky white slick dribbles out of you, slowly but surely on its way to wet his bedsheets. He wastes no time in lapping it up before it can even hit the sheets. It would be a shame for any of that to be wasted, he thinks. 
“Look at me,” he demands. You manage to weakly prop yourself up on your shoulders, tears threatening to spill as Satoru continues you finger you. You look so needy, so pretty like this. Your lip juts out in a slight pout and Satoru swears he can cum just by looking at you. “There’s my good girl,” he all but coos. 
“You’re so perfect,” he rasps, and he shudders at the way you clench around his fingers at his praise. He alternates between sucking at your clit and licking up and down your pussy, moaning at the way you taste when combined with him. You taste phenomenal normally, but the fact that you would even grant him the privilege of letting him ruin you has his mind reeling, and it makes him a little crazy. 
You’re so, so close. Your eyes screw shut in an attempt to drown out everything that isn’t Satoru’s tongue and fingers. Just a little bit more— then all of a sudden the mind-numbing pleasure is gone, ripped away from you. 
“I thought I told you to look at me?” Satoru’s voice cuts through you, and although there’s a slight teasing tilt to his question, you know better than to disobey him a second time. That smile on his face promises no mercy. 
“Satoru, I—“
“If you want to cum, keep your eyes on me.” 
You know not to argue with him when he’s as pussydrunk as he is (though you also know that even if you didn’t listen, he’d let you cum anyways. Satoru could never refuse you that.) 
Satoru swears he’s found heaven between your thighs as you grind your pussy against his face. He’s practically making out with your pussy, looking up at you with hearts in his eyes as he suckles on your clit, his saliva mixing with your slick that begins to pool beneath you. Your incessant whines and chants of his name fill his ears and he feels dizzy. You look at him, dazed, and he can’t help but think that he’s never seen a sight more beautiful than you. 
A melody of your ecstasy and his bliss fill the open air. The wet sounds of his tongue slurping your pussy and his fingers stretching out your tiny hole are enough to make your ears burn. But all of that hardly matters when Satoru takes one of your hands and places it on top of his head, urging you to card your fingers through his white locks, tugging a bit roughly, just how he likes it. Satoru doesn’t let up, and the way he’s going down on you almost feels greedy. 
The familiar pleasure bubbling up within you threatens to spill again, and all you can do is babble as a tear slips down your cheek. Satoru hasn’t stopped looking at you, and even with him practically devouring you, the stare he gives you is primal and hungry. 
“You’re about to cum, aren’t you baby?” Though it seems more like a statement than a question. You nod desperately, clenching around Satoru’s fingers. 
“Need to cum so badly, Toru. Pleas—“ you begin to plead, but you’re cut short by a hard suck to your swollen clit and Satoru thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a quicker pace. 
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I know. I’ll let you cum.” 
You trill as you hit your umpteenth climax, with Satoru not stopping his ministrations until you’re pushing him away. He pulls away from your pussy with a slight pop and smiles at you, chin shimmering with his spit and your juices. He cages you underneath him, and gives you a loving kiss on the lips before he pulls away slightly. 
He grips your jaw, tapping his index finger against the plushness of your cheek. He grins when he hears you whimper. You open your eyes to meet his once more.  “Hey, pretty girl.” Satoru coos, sickeningly sweet. You can feel a wet spot accumulating on the apex of your thigh, followed by a few taps of something hard. 
“Think you can give me one more?”
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Then y’all go for 3 more rounds
Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost or translate my writing anywhere.
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neoplatinum · 1 month
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is there someone else? - the weeknd | son chaeyoung
summary: oh, is there someone else or not?, 'cause i wanna keep you close
pairing: chaeyoung x 10th-member!reader
themes: angst, alcohol, cigarettes, some of twice, implied sex
wc: 1.3k
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“tell me.” chaeyoung stares at you, her eyes unfocused, and peering down at your lips. 
she grabs the cigarette out of your mouth, putting it between her own lips and taking a long drag. 
“chaeyoung, tell me.”
“what do you want me to say?” she pulls the cigarette out to flick the ends into her ashtray. “that i love you? that i want to be with you?”
“chaeyoung, are you fucking with me right now? just tell me how you feel.” you scoff, pushing your legs together.
“what? i told you how i felt already.” she continues to take your cigarette, taking long puffs. 
her voice doesn’t waver like yours, she doesn’t have to feel overwhelming dread whenever she has to ask for more. all she does is take and take and take. 
you don’t know how much you can offer of yourself anymore, until you become swallowed whole by her.
she doesn’t spend hours staring at her ceiling thinking about you, she doesn’t spend years staring at you out of the corner of her eye. she doesn’t call you when things go well, it doesn’t even seem like she pays much attention to anything about you. 
“you told me that you liked me while we were fucking chaeyoung,” you stare at her, her eyes distant and far away.
“yeah i did.” she takes another drag.
“is that it? is that the only way you think about me?” you feel yourself falling apart, the anxiety bubbling over, are you only a secondary thought? 
why won’t she take time for you? 
who has she been seeing? 
why can you only see her when the lights are dimmed and no one’s around?
“no, i care about you too.” she lets the smoke lift into the alleyway, barely noticeable under the dim lamppost. you hate the feeling inside of you, all consuming and suffering.
that’s all there is with chaeyoung, just suffering until you can’t hold onto it anymore.
“i understand.” you turn your feet, leaving the alleyway, feeling the pain sear through your chest, even the rain that’s been pouring feels like mist. 
she continues to blow smoke into the night, letting her eyes watch you as you round the corner. she stays there for a while.
--
“happy birthday to you! happy birthday to you!” jihyo continues to clap for you, her eyes on the sparkling cake that you’re holding and you smile at her. your lovely leader who will always try her best to make your birthdays the most memorable.
her voice drowns out as you stare at chaeyoung and mina, shoulders brushing and soft giggles, hands brushing each other. your grip on the cake loosens, and jeongyeon rushes to grab it before it falls, playfully scolding you.
but you can’t do it, you can’t be happy here, you love these girls, and are in love with one in particular. one that doesn’t talk to you anymore.
it’s like, it’s like you’re invisible to her.
turned into a person just watching her pass by. how isolating it is to be in the same group but feel so unseen.
in the same person is someone who won’t give you the time of day, pushing your needs aside for her own. but will shower in the other’s girls affection.
you can feel a rift starting the form, staff are asking around. beating around the bush of the sudden distance between you and chaeyoung. 
official photos with you and chae on opposite ends or always separated by a member. you try not to look at her as much anymore, knowing she doesn’t even take a second to look at you.
nights in showers staring at the tiles, letting the warmth of the water cover you much like she used too. a comfort you aren’t afforded anymore.
you never stay in the same room with only her, always protected by a third person, separated in the kitchen by counters or fridge doors. you start to feel like you need to physically protect your own heart. this ugly feeling growing vines.
but it’s not like she cares.
she doesn’t bat an eye at the sudden change, she lives her life just the same. days spent outside with friends, laughing in green rooms loudly. doing tiktok challenges with other members, still smoking out her window as night when you catch the signature scent. and maybe that’s the truth, you were never as important to her as you assumed.
did you ask for too much? 
were you just a warm body to her?
you spend days removing her imprint from your room. collecting all the small art and her music laying around, shoving them into corners of your room. much like she shoved them into the corners of your mind.
you shove them all into a bag, and drop it at her door. leaving down the hall back to your own room. trying your best to hug yourself all alone.
it’s not like she would notice.
the bag’s gone the next morning, a simple “thank you” message from your phone lighting up. 
you don’t reply.
--
“you like chaeyoung.” tzuyu’s eyes are staring down your wounded heart, one that you’ve tried to keep in bandages, preventing it from bleeding further. but tzuyu, quiet and observant tzuyu, always notices what’s hidden.
“yeah?” you take another swig of the hard liquor, letting it settle in your mouth. the burning sensation feeling lighter than the weight of the past week or so. “what makes you say that?”
tzuyu grabs a napkin, handing it to you. you wipe the corners of your mouth harshly. tzuyu thinks you look absolutely like a train wreck. the flushed skin, stumbling feet, and unkempt hair. 
“the way you look at her like you’re in pain. it’s obvious.”
you just laugh. 
it’s all such a shame you chose chaeyoung.
such a shame, you with your never ending affection, one that even rivaled sana’s physical touchiness. people used to think that you and sana were like two twins, showering your love on the other members. 
until recently, there’s been a distinct quietness with you now. 
seeking refuge in your own head, clouded by thoughts of confusion and curiosity. some nights at the dorm, you just stare. 
stare into the distance, replaying memories like an old film. wondering if everything was simply a memory or a dream. 
is it even worth the fighting? 
is that the only time she’ll be passionate?
only when you corner her, after she leaves you again, does she ever seem to care. you can’t lose her, you can’t lose the spot that you’ve fought so hard to keep.
you smoke to cloud your senses in her, a familiar scent that hung in the air. one that no longer exists, so you smoke the feelings of love to resurface. like a past drug.
“hey? you okay?” tzuyu scoots closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
why won’t this feeling of pain end?
you want her forever and ever.
“no.” you fall forward, head into your hands. a sob erupting in your body, choked feelings coming out in sobs. you begin to shake in tzuyu’s arms. you’re glad only tzuyu is here right now. 
-- “why did you do it?” chaeyoung pours herself another shot. downing it as you both stare at each other across the dining table. 
like a drug you can’t quit, she called you last night. only to be followed by an empty bed the next morning. you find her smoking out back.
“do what?” she puts the glass down, letting the burn run down.
“why do you keep calling me?” 
another shot.
you grab the shot glass, her eyes going wide. “tell me.”
“because, you’re there.” she says, tossing her feet up.
“that’s it? that’s all i am? just there?” she doesn’t move.
all those compliments about how beautiful you are, how glad she is that you two are so close, how she cherishes you like no other.
who else has she said these words to? 
who’s heart has she captured that’s not you?
“is it mina?” you ask.
she shakes her head no. “there’s no one.”
“but i’m just there.” you comment.
there’s no one else, you’re just there.
you aren’t even the someone else.
you are just there.
--
a/n: wrote this for @nr1chaedickrider, all the angst for you darling <33. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!
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personne-reblogs · 1 year
Text
AUTISTIC SWEEP
The shouts of the crowd are fading into white noise. 
The curtains are closing. 
The lights are dimming. 
The air still feels filled with static, though. 
This is a fight Donatello had known he couldn’t win, logically. The competition had been all fun and games, but this challenger was another story. No amount of support or hype could make up for such a gap; the bone deep certainty didn’t leave room for hard feelings. 
Struggling to catch his breath, battle shell against the wall, Donatello looks up from where he’s been getting some rest - not passed out rest, mind you. More like a beauty nap.
He lets out a genuine chuckle. 
Shigeo Kageyama is simply standing there, as he has been for most of the fight. 
“Sweet Marie Curie,” he puffs, keeping his voice level. The roar of the crowd hasn’t entirely died down, but he knows he is heard. “You don’t even have a scratch.”
The one they call Mob is giving him a stare. He still seems a little out of it. 
“You fought well,” he states calmly, and Donnie giggles. 
“Oh, please. I’ve been losing tournaments at home for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”
At that, Mob flashes a grin. “I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, coming over in lazy steps. “But it hasn’t been easy, either.”
He sits down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Donnie can now see that his breathing is a little heavy. He feels himself get cocky. 
“Well, I wasn’t about to just let you win. If I had to go down, might as well give ‘em a show, right?”
Mob sends him a sideway glance. “You really are all about dramatics.”
“What can I say?” Donnie sighs theatrically, proving his point. “This whole competition is about being swag. I could hardly disappoint.” 
“I don’t think you could," his opponent utters. “You’re very expressive.”
Donnie raises a perfectly drawn eyebrow. This is something he hasn’t often been told. He looks over to Mob, and the tension in the boy’s shoulders makes him hum in thought. 
“I don’t know who’s next, but you are going to crush them,” he provides. When Mob gives him a nonplussed glance, he goes on. “And even if you don’t, it’s still the last one. How good does that sound?”
“... it has been getting a bit much, to be honest.”
“Yeah, this is wild,” Donnie agrees. “Anyway, what are you gonna do with your trophy once you get it?”
Mob’s smile is a little shy, but he seems happy with the distraction. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one. What would you do?”
“Well, you see, there was this one time I won the Lair Games…”
--------------------------
In the next room, a very proud sensei and three worried brothers are getting impatient. 
The student and the sibling don’t seem to care at the moment. 
The crowd is gone. 
The curtains are closed. 
The lights are off. 
For now, making small talk with a former rival is just enough.
--------------------------
EDIT: there is now a sequel!
YOOO IT'S BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE
Disclaimer: I have never read/watched mp100 and I deeply apologize for making him probably very ooc. Just wanted to celebrate this beast of a match in my own way, which is wishing I could draw and deciding to heave words on a doc instead lol
CONGRATS ON MOB!! The final match between mp100 and undertale is gonna be soooo funny but I think Mob's gonna win this thing like it's nothing tbh (he has my vote at least)
@autismswagsummit thank you for reblogging all that Donnie propaganda, I genuinely think he never would've made it this far without the signal boost!
All my thanks to the Rise fandom for these past few days! You guys have made such powerful content and there's been so much hype I'm shocked. SHOCKED I TELL YOU
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