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#nothing inappropriate tho :(
plumsodapop · 1 month
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I believe my cat should become a meme. I think he deserves it.
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starrtoon · 6 months
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RUFF RUFF BARK WOOF RUFF
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devilfruitdyke · 3 months
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its telling that every discussion about 'gifted kids' focuses on the gt program's effects on adults and not. gifted kids
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mcsophiesoap · 4 months
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ABOUT THE ARTIST??! WOO!!
Hi hi!! Sophie here! I am a tiny artist that enjoys to draw (mostly traditional but we are getting to digital! I just know it!) I go by she/they and excited to share stories about my lovely Charaters and stories!
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Some of my art that I may or may not already shown, I don't keep track
My current OBSESSIONS:
Welcome home, FNAF, my lovely OC'S/stories, DBH (Detroit becomes human)
Any mutuals are welcome to talk! I might be a bit terrified at first but I'm very sure I'll get over it I swear!!
Asks are also open! I don't mind at all 🥐✨✨
Starting off SMol but we are still going!
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perenlop · 2 years
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ik i tend to do this myself or at least give off the impression that i do? but i wish people wouldn’t take “dark and cynical” to be an inherently bad thing in regards to media. like sometimes its obnoxious and not done well (and its particularly annoying when its brought up to mean “this story has a death scene so that makes it inherently mature!” which. no it doesn’t, it CAN be mature but there’s nothing inherent about it) but like the amount of things ive looked over just because people said “oh don’t bother it’s only edgy and dark for the sake of it” when really the story handles those things well or it’s not offensive or tone deaf or anything it’s literally just dark and knows its dark, said person just personally didnt like dark and edgy things, is a little frustrating
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farcillesbian · 1 year
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fun fact is that fruit flies can get concussions (or something akin to a concussion called a BANG) and scientists have been using them as a model to study brain injuries in humans because they display a similar range of symptoms and their short lifespans allow scientists to study what kind of health and lifespan impacts brain injuries can have. it's pretty neat!
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sysig · 1 year
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You’re a mermaid, not a siren! Stop that! (Patreon)
#Doodles#Original#The Mouse and the Mermaid#I didn't have references on-hand so just ignore the incorrect details lol - Soda still has the upward part and Pop's ears are still higher#I gave them more of a side-of-the-head ear positioning lol they go on the top of her head still!#And of course they're still cute so that's good <3#Mostly clothes thoughts but had to go with a cheek kiss one off for cutesies and sweets hehe ♪#For as shy as she is there sure if a good deal of Pop initiating affection huh ♪ Hehe#She's nervous but very actionable! She likes to be proactive and helpful and is surprisingly impulsive!#She'd have to be to rescue a mermaid lol I guess it tracks#More of her trying to cover Soda's nudity - it's an uphill battle!#It also made me think about why Soda is usually naked lol#She can wear clothes on land but in the water if she wore anything over her gills she'd drown! D:#So the halter top is a nice gift but she'll have to take it back off eventually haha#That then turned into thinking about what kinds of clothes might not cover her gills#Since they're on her ribs it's a little difficult but why not an apron#And nothing else lol#She's not /trying/ to be inappropriate - on a literal level she isn't! She's a fish!#The fact that Pop is a mammal just means they have very different cultural understandings of nudity lol#I also just thought it'd be funny to dress them up like a romcom lol They do look good tho :D Pop especially in a suit it's cute!#But she's always cute they're both always cute#I am especially pleased with Soda in the halter top ah ♥ Her eyes and hair in particular hehe#Cute lads <3
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technicolorxsn · 8 months
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I think I pulled something in my foot :')
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heartyearning · 10 months
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fennel green apple salmon salad fuck yeah !!!!!!!
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1dragon-mustard1 · 1 year
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I've said this once, and I'll day it again
I think Gotham and Jason Todd should have eldritch horror sex
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jk97 · 3 months
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Unprofessional Attraction | ONE
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♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot  ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡
Part 1 | Part 2 | ?
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Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.
That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”
“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.
Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.
A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.
“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”
“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”
He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.
“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.
“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”
“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.
“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.
“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”
You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”
“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”
“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”
When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.
From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.
He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.
  [Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]
When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.
You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.
“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.
He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.
“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.
“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”
“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”
Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.
Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”
Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.
“You ready?”
“Absolutely,” you puff out.
“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.
“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.
Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.
“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.
“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.
Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.
“I was just asking, Jesus.”
Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”
“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.
“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”
“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”
Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”
San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.
It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.
You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.
“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.
Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.
His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.
“Good morning!”
“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”
“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”
Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.
“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.
With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.
“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”
“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”
Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.
“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”
You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.
“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”
He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”
“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.
After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”
“Of course!”
When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.
On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.
“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.
“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”
“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.
“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”
The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–
“_____?”
You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.
“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”
“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.
Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.
“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”
“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”
Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”
You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”
“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.
“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”
Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”  
Not tonight.
You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.
“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”
While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.
When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.
“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.
“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”
That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.
“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”
“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.
  “We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”  
Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.
But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”
That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”
To which he never declines, naturally.
Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.
“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”
A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”
He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.
“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”
He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in pink as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.
“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.
“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.
You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.
“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.
“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.
“You don’t even know the price of it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”
“Yunho…”
“Don’t even give me that, ____.”
The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.
When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”
“Cheers.”
Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.
As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.
“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.
“I can get you an Uber if—”
“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”
That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.
Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.
Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.
“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.
While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.
“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.
He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”
“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”
Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he��s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.
Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.
Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—
He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.
Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.
“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”
Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.
“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.
He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”
“You’re fine, no worries.”
It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.
“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”
You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”
There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.
“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”
Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.
“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”
Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…
After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.
But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.
“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.
“Can we talk?”
“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”
When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.
“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.
“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”
“Neither am I.”
At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.
“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.
“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.
“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”
Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”
In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.
“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”
Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.
You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”
Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.
“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.
You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.
“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”
Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.
It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.
It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.
It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.
“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.
“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.
The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.
“Take yours off too?”
Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.
“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.
Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.
His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.
“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.
“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.
“You know what I mean.”
Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”
Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.
“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.
He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.
“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”
Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.
He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.
“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”
Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.
The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.  
“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”
When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.
“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.
“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”
“So fucking good.”
Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.
He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”
“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”
You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.
“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”
You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.
Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.
Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.
He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.
Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?
Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?
Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?
All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.
He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.
He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.
  [Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]
Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.
Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.
  [Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]
To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.
  [Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]
He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.
  [Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]
Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.
Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.
At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.
You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.
On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.
“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.
To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.
“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.
“Don’t.”
“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”
You employ a small pout to boot.
“And you think I believe that?”
“I think you should believe it.”
He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!
“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.
You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.
Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.
“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”
He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.
“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”
You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”
“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”
“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”
Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?
“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”
“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.
“A mistake?”
“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”
You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”
“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.
“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”
When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.
Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.
“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”
“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.
“Boo, why can I never know anything–”
“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”
“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.
Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.
A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.
“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”
“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”
“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”
“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”
Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”
You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.
“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.
You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.
“That was quick,” you giggle.
“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.
  Fuck.
“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”
“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.
You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”
“Just give me five minutes, please.”
You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.
“Spit it out already, Yunho.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.
Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”
“Thought it was a mistake–”
“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”
“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”
There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.
“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”
You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:
“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”
“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”
“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”
“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”
You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.
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♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr
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catharsisfire · 1 year
Text
caught in the spider’s web (m.) 18+
Simon “Ghost Riley x Reader
 “I’ll let you have sex with me.” It’s stated so plainly and so forwardly that it sounds less like a negotiation offer and more like a proclamation. 
“Fucking hell.” Ghost shoots back, his tone barely containing the hint of bewilderment in his voice.
 Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, inappropriate relations with your superior, orgasm denial, degradation, teasing/taunting, Ghost being kinda mean, also slight!Soap x Reader (just some flirting tho)
Word Count: 5004
A/N: i’m down absolutely bad for this man, so down bad i cant stand up, also thinking of making a pt. 2 and maybe a Soap version tbh so lemme know if you’re interested in that!
Inspo taken from this tiktok audio by dxcrxpit
Gif is not mine
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She’s got to blame someone for this; Graves will take the fall for now, until she finds the Shadow that shot her in the thigh and she’ll personally take the fall for being stupid and diving off the road onto a muddy cliff, tumbling the entire way down. Ungracefully, one may add. It’s unfortunate, truly, the turn of events that have now left her alone and in the pouring rain, leaking blood onto the pavement, but life is nothing if not one shitty plot twist after another. 
The comms had been radio silent since she fell, with no one calling or checking in, no sign of Ghost or Soap anywhere, so she finds an empty alley, mind set on damage control. It’s nothing to reach behind her and grab the back of her balaclava and pull it over her head, but it’s the feeling of the wet fabric sliding and sticking to her face as she pulls it off that makes her grimace. “Gross,” she mutters lowly with her hands wrapped tightly around the fabric, wringing out her sweat and the rain. Her back braces on the stone wall behind her and she slides down slowly until she’s sitting on the cobblestone road. [Y/n] lets out a shaky exhale as she reaches her hands down and begins to undo her belt, sliding it off in a quick jerking motion and then proceeds to fold her balaclava into a makeshift bandage before laying it over the wound on the outside of her left thigh. The belt is then used to tighten the balaclava down, applying pressure to keep bleeding to a minimum while she finds her way out of this shit fest. It takes her a second of sitting and fidgeting with the tightness of the belt before she decides to slink her way back up the wall again to stand.
“Alright,” She breathes heavily, talking to no one but herself, “we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” She laughs lightly under her breath and her hand makes its way to where her sidearm had been just moments before her tumble, only to find it gone. “Fuck me,” she whines, head falling back onto the stone wall behind her dejectedly, “hard way it is then.”
[Y/n] makes quick work of pushing off the wall and beginning to limp slightly farther down the alleyway, clicking through the channels on her comms as she goes, until Ghost’s voice pierces through her ears causing her to stop.
“Soap- This is Ghost. How copy?” There’s a moment of silence that registers for a second too long and she feels her blood run cold when there’s no response. “Johnny…?” No response. “Johnny… How copy?”
“Solid.” Soap’s response comes quickly and she lets out a relieved exhale. [Y/n] is quick to glance around, trying to find the easiest way down and out and she thinks for a second too long before throwing caution to the wind and her legs move into a slight skip before picking up into a run into a shop across the road. 
“You injured?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Life or death. Keep your blood in, you’ll need every drop.”
“Thanks for the tip.” 
“Spider. How copy?” She hears him, vividly so, but her mind is too sidetracked to reply. To focused on finding a way out whilst sneaking up to the Shadow in front of her. She quickly grabs onto the knife that's strapped and sheathed to her lower back and imbeds it into the juncture of the Shadow’s neck, twisting and pulling harshly to retrieve it from his skin as she moves to lay the body to the ground silently.
“Kid,” His voice more demanding now, “how copy?”
“Alive.” She pants evenly through the receiver.
“Thought we lost you there, kid.”
“Never. I’m gonna live forever L.T, remember?” She laughs breathily.
 Sometimes she catches Price staring at them with some far off solemn look in his eyes. A certain softness laced with ‘what if’ that you could only catch if you were genuinely looking for it and it startles her every time, making her feel a bit guilty that he cares so much for them. Guilty to know that if one of them died he’d be heartbroken.
“Stop staring at us like that.” She lowly speaks to him, her words taking on a teasing edge as she stares at the Captain.
“Like what?”
“Like we’re terminal cancer patients.”
“I do no-“
“I’m gonna live forever, Captain.” She interrupts so matter-of-factly before lifting her left hand and jamming her thumb in the direction of Ghost to her left, “And you can’t kill a Ghost.” Her thumb falls only for her index finger to point over at Soap who’s sitting on her right side, “And Soap,” she begins, “well Soap can’t die because we fuckin’ told him not to.”
“Copy that, Sergeant.” Price responds with a tilt at the edge of his mouth. Almost a smile, she notes.
Ghost peers down at her from where he’s seated next to her and she looks up at him with a smile present in her eyes and nods once in his direction in confirmation. Her black balaclava does nothing to hide her emotions, not when they’re always written right there in her eyes, and he vaguely wonders if she wears it because her face is more of an open book than her eyes appear to be. Yet it’s a thought he buries deep when she winks up at him, her eyes still dancing with humor and he’s turning away, not wanting to be drawn in by her gaze.
 “Where are you?”
“There's a church. I’m heading to it. Let’s RV there.” Ghost declares. “You’ll need to improvise to survive.” 
“Oh, joy.” comes Spider’s quick retort. She makes hasty work of digging through the dead Shadow’s pockets, taking his knives and his gun before taking a quick once-over glance over him. An idea toys in her mind for a second and she reaches forwards, unclipping the helmet on his head equipped with night vision and immediately puts it on her own and clipping it down, adjusting the strap to fit. The rifle she picked up is then slung over her chest and it rests heavily on her back on top of her armor and she begins her journey away, crouching low and moving to the next building. 
“Welcome to guerilla warfare.”
Ghost and Soap continue talking, but [Y/n] had taken to tuning them out, too concentrated on taking down the Shadow’s in her path. One after another they each fell easily from the blades she kept stealing off of their associates corpses and her hands made quick work of ripping the ammo clips from their pockets and depositing them in her own on her vest. It was messy work and the realization that it was no longer sweat and rain wetting her face, but blood as well, did not go unnoticed by her. Her arm was quick to reach up every so often in an attempt to clear her face but it felt only as if it just smeared everything on her face, making a bigger mess.
“Gimme a sit-rep.” Ghost’s request digs her from her concentration, her decision making stopping momentarily and she goes to reply first but Soap beats her to it.
“Outside… Gated alley.”
“Kid, sit-rep?”
“Outside… Alleyway with a few dead Shadow’s.”
“Your handiwork?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Atta girl.” Ghost's quick reply is all she hears and [Y/n] feels her face heat from the praise.
“What can I say? I live to please.” And then she's back to radio silence, she wants nothing more than to get the upper hand here, but she still feels like she’s failing at it. Moving on the ground amongst the Shadow’s hoping to not stumble across one didn't feel right to her, didn’t feel smart. She was a sniper. She yearns for the high ground and distance and she’s been robbed of the one thing she feels like gives her the tactical advantage, so her brain is working overtime to fix it. It’s a mumbled ‘fuck-it’, that has her chancing it and she decides to take to the rooftops. It’s not without difficulty, climbing up to get to the roofs, but the real bitch comes when she has to make the jump from building to building. Each impact making her wince and gnaw at her lip to stop her from groaning at the pain in her leg. But she feels better from here, being able to survey the land and pick the Shadows off from above, thanks to a silencer she klepted off one of them.
“You’re gonna owe me for this.” Came Soap’s voice from the comms but Spider takes note that it echoes, if only slightly and her mind begins turning. No, not an echo. He’s nearby, close enough for her to hear with her ears and the comms piece.
“Why?”
“We’re fixing each other’s problems.”
“What’s my problem?”
“The mask… Take it off…”
“Show my face?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Negative.”
“Are you ugly?”
“Quite the opposite.” Smug bastard. He’s smirking, she just knows it.
“What about you, Spider?” Soap questions, shifting the conversation to include her.
“What makes you think you deserve to see me, Johnny?” She teases back in response, prompting Soap to huff back a simple, “Cold.” into the comms.
“Tell you what,” she propositions, “come find me and I’ll show you anything you want.”
“Both of you, get to the church. Now.” 
“Yes, sir.” They both echoed. 
It’s not hard for her eyes to catch Soap’s movement, pinning him in her gaze as he maneuvers the alley to her left. Her eyes leave his form as they glance forward to the Shadows ahead of him and she makes the decision to take them out for him. Opting that this was the way to gain a favor for him, having not forgotten how he constantly volunteers her for first watch whenever he can. His reaction is immediate, dropping behind cover and glancing back when he hears the heavy thud of the Shadows bodies hit the ground and he’s looking around to try and find where the shots had come from.
“Who the hell was that?” Soap’s distressed voice rings through the comms.
“It was your guardian angel.” 
“Spider? Are you on the roof?”
“Affirmative.” Was Spider’s quick reply, “I’m coming down… Wait for me?”
“Yeah.”
“By the way,” her voice cracks vividly through the receiver, “you get first watch next time Soap. Consider it my payment for saving your life.”
 “Spider, you’ve got first watch.” Soap shouts across the room to where [Y/n] is sitting, propped up against a wall with her eyes closed.
“What?” Her eyes fly open in surprise at his statement, “No, I had first watch last time. Switch with me.”
“No.” He tries to sound stern but laughter seeps through the word as he watches her throw her head back into the wall with a thunk and groan lowly at his lack of negotiation with her. After only a few seconds she sighs deeply before lifting her head from the wall and locking eyes with Ghost. 
“Switch with me, Ghost.” She whines back exasperated.
“No.” It’s short and curt and she doesn’t let his vague hostility deter her. She wants second watch at least, because right now her eyes feel like someone put sand in them with how horribly tired they feel, with how heavy she is with want for sleep.
“I’ll let you have sex with me.” It’s stated so plainly and so forwardly that it sounds less like a negotiation offer and more like a proclamation. 
“Fucking hell.” Ghost shoots back, his tone barely containing the hint of bewilderment in his voice, which is almost completely drowned out by Soap’s loud and shocked, “What!?” from across the room. But [Y/n] watches Ghost’s eyes closely, noting the change that happens within them. His normally cold eyes had taken on a flicker of heat and the burn of his gaze in that moment made her skin itch with want. It had been a joke, a joke with a bit of truth behind it, yet a joke nonetheless, but the fact that he almost seems to consider her offer makes the hair on the back of her stand up and her mouth parched. Price’s cough of disapproval rips through the air, but [Y/n] decides to dig herself in further.
“I’m kidding…” Her easy, nonchalant laughter bounces off the walls of the small room, “Unless… unless you actually will trade with me then maybe we can work something out?” Her voice trails off taking on a slightly higher tone as she shrugs her shoulders and gestures her hands between the two of them vaguely. 
“No one is trading sexual favors for watch times.” Interrupts Price’s loud voice, hellbent on stomping out whatever the hell this is that’s going on right now.
“What?” She questions, mildly defensive with an all too innocent tone, “I don’t have anything else to really offer right now. Unless you want my knife,” She adds, shifting her gaze from Price’s scolding and directing the offer solely back to Ghost with a hopeful tone, “Then I’ll give you my knife for second watch.” Her eyebrows raise up beneath her mask and her head tilts slightly forward into Ghost’s direction as if to imply that the deal was getting better.
“No.” Price answers in Ghost’s stead, although the fire behind Ghost’s eyes still does not quell as he continues to stare at her motionless. [Y/n] releases an empty sigh, sliding her eyes closed and throwing her head back into the wall.
“Fuck!” She exclaims roughly in defeat, “Fine.”  And Spider picks herself up off of the floor and her hands move to grab the sniper rifle propped against the wall next to where she’d just been sitting. “If any of you need me I’ll be on the roof.” She groans out as she makes her way to the stairs, only stopping to call over her shoulder, “Try not to need me.”
‘Try not to need me.’ It rattles around the empty air downstairs after she’s gone until it sticks in Ghost’s mind. ‘Try not to need me.’ Too late.
It’s well into over an hour of her watch shift when she feels the hair on the back of her neck standing up in defense, when she feels like she's not alone anymore. So she turns her head from where she had been laying prone with her rifle watching the streets below between two cinder block openings on the edge of the roof, just in time to catch sight of Ghost making his way over to where she was, sitting next to her with his back to the cinderblock wall.
“You should be sleeping.” Spider mumbled out to him.
“You should be paying attention.” He motions his head slightly to the roads behind him in direction. He catches the way her eyes roll and he can tell she makes a face beneath her balaclava by the way the skin on the bridge of her nose crinkles up slightly.
“Really useful advice L.T,” She mumbles out deadpanned, he can hear the exhaustion clear in her voice, “you ever thought about writing self help books?”
He only hums absentmindedly in response and an empty silence fills the air between them for only a few seconds before he adds in, “You look tired.” 
“Be still my foolish heart,” Spider remarks sarcastically,  releasing her hand on her gun and grabbing at the center of her chest, “Ghost, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you just invited me to bed.”
“Obviously you know better.”
Spider hums limpidly in response.
“Go get some sleep. I’ve got the rest of your watch.”
Her head shakes and a simple reply of “no”, is immediately followed by a yawn and she turns her head over to look into Ghost’s eyes again to scold him limply. “Stop talking about sleep, you're making me yawn.”
“You look like you’re gonna fall asleep on watch. A punishable offense if you do.”
“Maybe I wanna be punished,” Spider teases in a tired voice, “help keeps the brain awake.”
“Can’t punish you if you’re dead from falling asleep on watch.”
“Sounds like you have to be proactive, L.T. Punish me in advance.” The fire is back in his eyes and [Y/n] realizes how deep she’s dug herself in this time, and so she does the only thing she can do. Dig deeper. “Are you going to punish me, sir?”
“It’s not a punishment if you enjoy it.”
“A morale booster, then?” She offers instead, “Promoting healthy team relations and engaging in bonding activities with your soldiers can have a positive influence on their morale and mission performance.”
“You think wanting to fuck your superior is healthy?” 
“No. I think of it as an investment in the betterment of the team, Lieutenant. I stay awake and they stay alive. A win in my books, if you ask me.”
“Yet I didn’t ask.”
“No sir, you didn’t.” [Y/n] takes her time sitting up onto her knees from the position where she lay and moves over easily to sit next to Ghost, back pressed into the cinderblock wall. She reaches over him, torso pressing dangerously into his thighs as she grabs her bag and begins to riffle through it with a leisurely pace, before drawing out her heartbeat sensor. Within a second she is sitting back upright, hands moving to grasp firmly around the device before powering it on and placing it where she had just been laying watching the streets. She peers back up at him, something burning deeply behind her gaze. The smile normally dancing around in her eyes now gone completely, replaced by something altogether darker, and her voice is serious when she tells him, “But all you have to do is say the word.”
“Fucking hell. You’re a minx, you know that.”
“One of my finer qualities, I believe.” She whispers out breathily. [Y/n] makes slow work of invading his space, leaning in until their faces were only inches apart and throwing her leg across his lap, straddling him. Yet she doesn’t lower herself down, opting instead to reach up and release the latches holding on her body armor effectively slipping it off and dropping it to the side.
“Now, what are you going to do if you get shot at?” His question is fair, but it’s simply meant to tease her so she takes the bait.
“Pray they’ve got bad aim.” She states to him as she sits herself down onto his lap.
“And if they don’t?” He presses further into the hypothetical and his hands move from his sides to rest on the outside of her thighs in a teasingly light grip.
“Then I hope you take mercy on me and save my life.”
“I’m not a merciful man.” He states matter-of-factly, hands working up from their spot on her thighs to start moving up to her belt, where they make slow work of undoing the buckle there. Her exhale is shaky at the motion and she breaks eye contact to glance down as his hands work at their agonizing pace. Taking his time as if he had nothing better to do than make her wait for him.
“Then I hope you’ll make my last moments worthwhile.”
“Hmm,” He ponders curiously, fingers popping the button of her pants open, “do you really deserve that?” 
“I’m hoping to win your favor.” She mutters back hopefully as Ghost leisurely pulls down her zipper.
“How do you plan to do that?” Ghost questions her evenly, not a single emotion betraying his voice.
“My dazzling wit and charm?” She’s ready to burst, almost shaking with anticipation as she watches him remove his glove to trace the skin above the edge of her panties.
“Hmm… Try something else.” He remarks mockingly. 
“I’m useful.” She declares in a whine, hands reaching forward to braces on his shoulders as her eyes close with frustration.
“How so?”
The air is silent for a second too long and when he feels as though she has no intention of answering back he captures the elastic band of her panties and lets it snap back harshly against her skin. “I asked you a question.”
“I’m… I’m good with a rifle.” She stutters out quickly, “One of the best.”
“Anything else?”
“I’m light on my feet, quick,” She’s trying to think, her mind reeling trying to remember notable attributes of herself but her brain short circuits and she begins tripping on her words the moment he slips his hand into her pants, cupping her heat through her panties. “I-i can get in and out of places without detection.”
“Keep going.” He presses her, hand moving to pull her panties to the side so his finger can run through her slit, collecting the wetness there.
“I’m good under pressure. Rational.”
“Is that right?” He seems to contemplate her statement, weighing the validity of it given the current circumstances as his finger begins to circle roughly on her clit. Her response is almost immediate, choking out a sobbed “yes” as her breath quickens. 
“Go on then.” He continued plainly, his voice just as even and level as it always was, even as he slips his finger from her clit down to her entrance and plunges into her.
“I’m…” And she has to stop to take a stuttering, stabling breath before lifting her head up from where it watches his hand work into her so that she can lay her forehead on his and stare into his eyes. “I’m damn good at my job,” her left hand moves from his shoulder to fist into the mask at the back of his neck for support, “you know it's true.”
“My intelligence.” She yelps out before he can even tell her to say another thing.
“What about it?”
“I’m. Very. Fucking. Intelligent.” [Y/n] enunciates between panting moans and gritted teeth, “One… one reason Price wanted me in 141.” Her chest is heaving as she shakes her head lightly to clear her thoughts, a poor attempt to get a cohesive string put together. “He found me as a Private. Fuck me,” She whines, “I was exemplary. The goddamn best at everything. I won him over.”
“How’d you manage that? Your dazzling wit and charm?” Ghost teases her with her own words as his thumb moves to rub at her clit in time with his hands sliding in and out within her. [Y/n]’s eyes flutter for a second at the added pleasure and her hand clenched tighter on his neck, twisting the mask fabric in her grip as she leans forward further into him, pressing her hips down to seek his hands movement. Their noses are touching now, barely any space between their mouths as they share each other's breath.
“The spider spins her web to catch what she wants.” She mumbles out through a shaky keen. “I’m soo useful Lieutenant. M-more useful than you could ever know.” Her eyes looked pleadingly into his as her hips moved in time with his hand, “Please don't stop.”
“You get off on praising yourself, Sergeant?” His voice is so goddamn taunting and the slight shame of it burns her face. There’s no other sounds in the air outside except their back and forth, and the sound of his hand moving within her and the slick wet sound of it has her mind reeling with longing and want.
“You’re m-making me.” [Y/n] counters back, “I’m doing what I’m told.” Ghost makes a noise in acknowledgment to her statement before adding a second finger in, working faster as she begins to drip down his hand. 
“Then we’ll add that to the list. The good girl can do as she’s told.” His words of praise are met with her clenching down tightly on his fingers.
He’s startled when he feels the cool, trembling grip of her hand grasping desperately into the bare skin of his wrist beneath his sleeve. There’s something exhilarating about the feeling of her skin on his in this desperate attempt to ground herself to him, with him, when they’re both so covered. And God it feels like fire, feels like every nerve in his body has just been sent into overdrive because all he feels is the cool skin of her hand wrapped firmly around his wrist as her nails dig in sharp and the wet heat of her cunt dripping down his hand.
“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”
“Anything you wanted, Ghost.” She rasped back in confirmation, throwing her head back.
Ghost’s free hand shoots up from where it had been holding tightly to her thigh, capturing her chin in a bruising grasp and pulling her head down roughly until her forehead rests back on his. Holding her there until they’ve returned to sharing breath and air and there's almost no space between them, before continuing its journey downwards to her neck. Her eyesight falters then and her eyes slide shut when he squeezes at her neck just right and she preens at the motion.
“Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.” He demands and he squeezes her throat slightly harder at the command and her eyes slide open, teary and tired. “Atta girl.” And she can’t help but whimper lowly at the praise, panting heavily and tightening her hands grip on the wrist working between her legs. “See, that's not so hard, now is it?” He taunts lowly.
“No sir.” Her head is dizzy and her eyes are swimming with tears and pleasure each time he squeezes his hand around her throat, throwing her that much closer to the edge. [Y/n] can't help the choked, “oh God” she releases when his hands decided to speed up, the movement of her hips failing to keep up with his ministrations. The arch of her back makes quick work of closing the space between their bodies as she gets closer and closer, and her hand leaves his wrist in favor of bracing her forearm onto his shoulder for added support.
“You close?” Ghost asks, and had [Y/n] been in her right mind she would have noticed the glint of something devious slide though his gaze, but instead she just nods back with a tender “please” in response too focused on chasing her budding release. Ghost’s hand doesn’t relent in its hurried pace fucking into her, but he seems as if he’s waiting for something. Holding out on something until the last second and as she begins to spasm around his finger he seems to find exactly what he was looking for, exactly what he’s been waiting for.
His hand leaves from within her and off her neck in an instant and before she can register what's happened she hears her zipper being slid back up. It sends a panic straight through her when the thrumming of her body catches up to her brain and she realizes that she’s been left high and dry. He didn’t let her finish.
“Wh-what? Why?” [Y/n] wants to cry and for a second she’s very close to it. She wants to scream at the fizzling out of her high, shaking from denial she looks down just in time to catch Ghost’s hands thread her button back closed and slip her belt through the buckle tightening it. She lifts her eyes up for a second searching desperately for his and she sees a smug laughter swimming behind them before she draws her line of sight back to his hands. Hoping that if she stares at them long enough she can will them back to work, back to finishing her. 
“You should go get some sleep.” He declares, adding a firm slap to her ass before holding onto it, and he sounds like he’s genuinely on the verge of laughter, like this was some kind of game he’s playing with her that he’s enjoying just a bit more than she is.
“But-but I didn’t…” And she stutters over her words, unable to form anything reasonable in her denial.
Her hand tries to reach down to where Ghost’s had just left, anticipation and her denied release eating at her bones telling her to finish the job, only to get intercepted before she can complete her goal. Ghost’s hand grips at her wrist tightly, bringing it up to rest in the air between their chests. At the same time his other hand rushes up to grasp harshly at her chin bringing her face up in front of his and he slowly peels his eyes away from her hand after a second to look into her own. The heat in them is different now, taking on a chilling burn that leaves her frozen on the spot beneath his gaze. 
“What makes you think you deserve it? This is a punishment, remember? That is what you wanted. What you asked for.”
“Please… ” It’s a pathetic whine, one that he laughs at and her face burns dangerously beneath the fabric on her face.
“Go get some sleep.” Ghost orders again.
“I-i don’t think I can anymore.”
“You will. Consider it a test of your self control.” And when she makes no effort to move from his lap, he cocks his head to the side slightly, adding a taunting, “That’s an order, Sergeant.”
“Th-this isn't over.” [Y/n] states heatedly behind furrowed brows and heavy pants, “I’ll get you back for that.”
“Doubt that.” He husked evenly behind his mask.
Ghost finds her a few hours later when his watch had ended, next to Soap. Both of them sleeping on their backs with her head laid on his shoulder and his arm loosely wrapped around her neck with a light grip on her shoulder. 
“He’s got the kid in a headlock.” Ghost remarks to Price.
“That can’t be comfortable.”
13K notes · View notes
Text
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clone - a - willy
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ʚ Gojo Satoru x Chubby Fem Reader ɞ
❥ Summary: You've been paired up with Gojo Satoru for a class and you've developed a crush on him. After his fraternity holds a "Clone-a-Willy" fundraiser, and your friend buys you a dildo of his dick, your feelings grow stronger. You just hope he never finds out...
❥ Word Count: 4.2k
❥ CW: chubby fem reader, smut, female masturbation, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex (penis in vagina), petnames (princess, pretty), biting
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Smart. Handsome. Rich. Gojo Satoru was all these things, and now he was your lab partner.
You were shocked when you were given the assigned seat next to him and told that you would be partners for the semester. He was so polite too, nothing like the usual frat boys you met in your other classes.
“I’m Gojo Satoru! Nice to meet you! Let’s work hard this semester!”
God, his cheerfulness was intoxicating. No wonder you developed a crush on him during your first meeting.
It was just a little crush, nothing to sneeze over, but your roommate noticed how your disposition changed in just a couple weeks. She teased you endlessly, asking for details about the infamous Gojo Satoru of Alpha Phi. She’d heard rumors, just like you, of how he was a playboy and a huge flirt, but you hadn’t experienced that in class yet, much to your roommate’s disappointment.
“Damn, I was really hoping he was an ass like everyone said, you know, just so you could say the rumors are true about frat boys.”
You shrugged it off, just grateful that Gojo was kind to you and helpful during your labs together.
But things changed when Alpha Phi held a fundraiser.
You didn’t hear much about it until you got back to your dorm after the day’s classes and had to listen to your roommate gush about the event.
“You would not believe what they did this year!” You sighed, taking off your shoes by the door.
“What did they do?”
Your roommate didn’t reply. Instead she reached into her bag and pulled out… a dildo?
“What—”
“They did a Clone-A-Willy fundraiser!”
You stared, shocked at the tan silicone toy, blinking rapidly.
“They… sold dildos?”
“That are copies of their own dicks!”
You kept staring, shocked, unsure of what to say.
“This is Geto Suguru’s dick. Isn’t it big? God, I can’t wait to use it.”
“I—”
“But don’t worry!” she interrupted, going back into her bag and pulling out yet another large dildo. “I got one for you too! Guess whose it is.”
Your eyes widened, jaw dropping.
“No—”
“Yes! It’s the Gojo Satoru’s dick in dildo form! Surprise! Happy birthday, happy New Year’s, happy whatever holiday you wanna celebrate!”
Your hand went to your mouth, trying to cover your expression.
“You didn’t.”
“Oh, I totally did. Gojo was out there selling em too, flirting with all the girls who bought his toy. And there were a lot of them too, I actually got one of the last ones just for you!”
“Ashley… This is insane. I can’t accept this.”
“What? Why not? I got it just for you. You don’t have to worry about the cost, I’m not gonna make you pay me back—”
“No! No, I… Ashley, he’s my lab partner. This is so inappropriate.” She rolled her eyes.
“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s nothing to worry about. You have a crush on him, we both know that, but unless you’re gonna start coming out of your shell and actively flirt with him, you’re never gonna get that dick. This will give you the chance to experience his dick without committing to the guy.” You rubbed your hand over your face.
“Ashley… This is so wrong…”
“Oh, Y/N, please calm down. Why are you getting so upset over this? It’s just some harmless fun. If Gojo didn’t want people to use these dildos, he wouldn’t have made them in the first place. He’s okay with it.”
“But—”
“Look,” she started, opening your nightstand drawer, “you don’t have to use it if it really makes you uncomfortable, but I can’t take it back so you might as well keep it just in case.”
You couldn’t fight her on this, not when she gave those pathetic puppy dog eyes, pleading for forgiveness.
“Alright, fine. But I’m not going to use it!”
That’s what you told her. That’s what you told yourself. But you found yourself drawn to the girthy toy in your nightstand. The next time you had the dorm to yourself, you took it out and examined it in detail. It was thick, your hand barely able to wrap around it, and it was long too, long enough to reach deep inside you, hit all those spots that your stubby fingers would never be able to reach…
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when you used the toy that same day, fucking yourself vigorously with it, making yourself whine. It felt so fucking good, filling you up so nicely, making you cum over and over again.
You cleaned and hid the toy before your roommate came back, and you promised yourself it wouldn’t happen again.
You were very good at lying to yourself. Every chance you got alone, you were grabbing that toy, fucking yourself nice and deep in between your classes. You’d started imagining Gojo there with you, fucking you good, praising you all the while for taking his fat cock. You felt guilty for it, but you couldn’t help but moan his name quietly, wishing he was there to treat you right. Would he be slow and sweet? Or hard and fast? Would he call you a good girl or his precious little slut? Would he make you cream or squirt? Your thoughts swirled endlessly as you came on the toy once again, pulling it out and panting hard.
This was getting out of hand. You couldn’t be developing feelings for your lab partner like this. He even began to notice a change in you.
“Is something wrong?” he asked one day in the library while you were working on your project together. You cleared your throat, shying away when he leaned in closer towards you. God, his cologne smelled so good—
“I’m fine,” you lied, swallowing hard. You couldn’t look at him after what you had done the day before, after you had ridden his dildo for close to half an hour, cumming almost a dozen times. You couldn’t stop wondering if he would ever try to make you feel that good.
“You sure? You’ve been acting off the last few classes, and you’re not talking as much as usual.” He leaned forward into your line of sight, smiling softly, speaking quietly. “Look, if something’s wrong, we can reschedule. Maybe we could go someplace less stressful and not as packed? Maybe the lobby of the physics building? Or we can go to your dorm if that makes you comfortable?”
Here he was, being so sweet and considerate, and all the while you were masturbating to the thought of him using a dildo that was a literal copy of his dick. You felt so ashamed, and yet the thought alone was currently turning you on, making your legs clench.
“It’s okay. I can keep working.” He gave an unsure frown but nodded.
“Alright, if you say so, but I’m serious about working somewhere quieter next time. Maybe it’d be easier to finish this at your dorm. That way you’re comfortable and not as stressed about finishing this.” You smiled at him genuinely.
“Thank you, Gojo. We can go to my place tomorrow. My roommate has classes till five, so maybe we could meet right after lunch? That should give us enough time to finish what we don’t get done today.” Gojo smiled back at you, and you swore you could feel your heart skip a beat.
“Sounds good. We could meet up for lunch if you want. I have a class at ten but then I’m free the rest of the day.”
You felt your heart pound, and you nodded a bit too enthusiastically.
“Yeah, that sounds great.”
So, that’s what you did. You met at your chemistry building before walking to an on-campus cafe. You had a quick lunch, mostly talking about your project and your respective classes before you made your way to your dorm.
“Here it is,” you said after you unlocked the door, opening it wide and walking inside. You both discarded your shoes by the door before locking it and heading farther into your room.
“Nice place,” Gojo stated, looking around at the posters you had on the wall. “You like this band too?”
“Oh, them? Yeah, I’ve been a fan for a few years.”
“Really? That’s crazy. I haven’t met anyone on campus yet who likes em. What a coincidence,” he said with a toothy grin. You felt your heart flutter, but you shook your head and took out your laptop, plugging it in and sitting at your desk.
“Yeah, what a coincidence…”
The two of you started working quickly, you at your desk, Gojo on your bed with his own laptop. You were pretty quiet, making the occasional comment about your work before going back to silence. It was about an hour later when Gojo pushed his laptop to the side, lying back and stretching.
“Man, I’m beat! Thank God this project is pretty much done. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
You hummed, glancing over at him, just to find him on his phone.
“Damn, I’m at 20%. Do you have a charger I could borrow?”
“Uh, yeah. Check the drawer on my nightstand.”
You didn’t realize what you said until the nightstand drawer opened.
“W-Wait—”
It was too late. Gojo had already pulled out the toy and proceeded to stare at it. You could feel your face burn as you stood up.
“I-It’s not what you think! My roommate got it for me as a joke!” He kept staring as he sat up, making you panic. “I-I haven’t even used it! It’s just been sitting in there collecting dust, ha ha!” Gojo hummed, scraping his nail along the toy.
“Something weird is dried on it…”
Fuck, you must not have cleaned it well. You rushed to his side, pulling the dildo away from him and hiding it behind your back.
“Look, I know this is weird, and I’m super sorry, but I promise it’s just a joke! Nothing’s happened, we can just go back to studying and—”
“Y/N,” he said low, standing up to his full height, looking down at you. “Be honest with me. Have you used that toy before?”
You felt like you were backed into a corner. Your stomach was flipping like crazy, making you sweat. You couldn’t answer him, couldn’t do anything but look down at the floor.
“Have you… thought about me while you did it?”
You still couldn’t answer, but you felt yourself shrink in on yourself. You could see his fists clench and unclench in your line of sight. Fuck, he was mad, he must’ve been. Why else would he be so quiet? Maybe he was disgusted with you. Maybe he would yell at you and stomp out. Shit, what if he told your secret to all his friends? What if you became the laughing stock of your university?
“Y/N. Look at me.”
You hesitantly looked up, meeting his icy blue gaze. You were about to apologize, beg him not to say anything to anyone, promise to do all the work the rest of the semester if he would just keep quiet. But you didn’t have the chance to.
Before you could blink, Gojo leaned forward and kissed you.
Your eyes widened, hands dropping the dildo behind you as his lips moved against yours. Your hands instinctively went to his chest—you could feel his muscles through his shirt—nails digging into the fabric. His hands found your waist, pulling you to him, hips pressed together. You pulled away when he licked at your lip, staring up at him, cheeks burning.
“I… I don’t understand,” you whispered, eyes searching his face. He was blushing, glowing when he smiled down at you.
“I got a confession to make, Y/N.” His arms circled your waist, keeping you flush to him. “I’ve kinda been crushing on you all semester.”
Your eyes widened, jaw going slack.
“You… what?”
“I can’t help it!” he exclaimed, holding up his hands. “You’re just so sweet and nice and smart and pretty! I’m sorry for throwing this on you, really I am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”
You shook your head, taking a step back.
“This isn’t funny, Gojo. Don’t play with my feelings.”
“I’m not, I swear! Here, look at me,” he said, taking your hands and looking deep into your eyes. “I really like you, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t say it till now, but I’m telling the truth.”
“You… you mean it? You’re not joking around?”
“No, Y/N. I would never joke about this. I swear to God, I like you so much that it’s keeping me up at night.”
You couldn’t believe it. The Gojo Satoru was confessing to you. Not even in your best dreams did you think this would be happening to you.
“Hey,” he whispered, pulling you closer, leaning towards you. “Is it okay if I prove how much I like you?”
“P-Prove?” you stuttered, picking up on his flirting. He nodded, pulling you to his chest again, arms flying around your waist.
“Wanna show you how much I like you.”
You hesitated, feeling your skin burn, your cunt clenching in anticipation.
“O-Okay… you can sh-show me.”
“Yeah? Pretty girl wants me to show her how crazy she makes me?” You stifled a whine, nodding quickly, only making his smirk grow. “Good. How about you get on the bed for me?”
You found yourself complying with his demands, inching towards the bed and sitting on top, waiting for his next move. He stood between your legs, staring down at you for a good long while before his hands went down to your hips.
“Can I take these off?”
You nodded, letting him unbutton your jeans, lifting your hips so he could slide them off. Your jeans and panties were discarded onto the floor, and Gojo fell to his knees.
“Your thighs are so warm and soft,” he muttered, kneading your legs, making you leak. “I love seeing how they squish when you sit down. I’ve thought about laying my head on them way too much.”
With that, he rest his forehead against your thighs, nuzzling into you, humming to himself. He pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh, making you inhale sharply, squeezing your legs shut tighter. He clicked his tongue, weaving his hand between your legs.
“Don’t hide from me, princess. I wanna show you how I feel.”
He pulled apart your thighs, spreading them wide, revealing your chubby pussy to him. He sighed, leaning forward to place a kiss on your upper pussy, nosing his way down between your legs. He kissed your pudgy pussy lips, flicking his tongue against them, making you tremble. His slender hands trailed up your thighs, peeling apart your pussy lips, revealing yourself to him.
“Oh God… your pussy… it’s so pretty,” he spoke in disbelief, staring at you. You felt yourself grow embarrassed, squirming under his gaze.
“Please… don’t—hah!”
His tongue darted out, flicking your clit with the tip. His blue eyes stared up at you, watching your expression contort as his tongue flattened against your clit, licking it fully. He moved it up and down languidly, blinking slowly as he gained a rhythm. After a minute, he began drawing patterns—circles and figure eights. At one point you wondered if he was spelling his name because you could’ve sworn he was writing in cursive with his tongue.
You soon became a moaning mess, resting back on your elbows, hips twitching into his mouth. You gasped when you felt his finger prod at your entrance, circling it, dipping in just the tip before pushing in down to the knuckle.
“God, you’re so tight, too. How in the world did you fit my dildo inside? Fuck, just thinking about you masturbating with it turns me on like crazy.”
“I-I’m sorry f-for using the t-toy!” you whined, voice pitching when he curled his finger, hitting your g-spot.
“Don’t apologize, princess. I think it’s so fucking hot. I was hoping you would show up that day to get one, but I must’ve missed you.”
“It-It was from my f-friend.”
“Ahh, nice friend, getting you such a nice toy to play with. Shit, if I had known you were using my dildo, I would’ve confessed a lot fucking sooner. So much time wasted.”
He added a second finger, pumping the two of them in and out at a steady pace. You could hear how wet you were, your cunt clenching around his fingers as he thrust them into you. You fell back on the bed, back arching as you felt pressure build inside you.
“Oh my God… you’re pulsing around me. You gonna cum? Ya gonna cum on my fingers? Fuck, I want you to, please, I want it so bad.”
His mouth went back to your clit, forming an ‘O’ shape around it, sucking harshly. The action made you squeal, hands finding his hair, tugging at the white strands. You only made him moan against you, the vibrations sending you into a frenzy. His combined efforts were putting you through a whirlwind of sensations, hurtling you towards your peak.
“G-Gojo, please, I-I-I—”
“Go on, pretty. Let go for me. Wanna see you cum on my fingers.”
That was it. That was enough to send you over the edge. Your breath hitched, mouth falling open as you came. You gushed around his fingers, back hurting from how hard it was arching off the bed, thighs clenching next to his cheeks. The moment passed, and you could feel yourself coming down from your high.
But he didn’t stop.
You cried out, begging him to let up, to slow down, but he wasn’t listening. He kept sucking at your clit, fingers pumping quickly, making you climb towards another climax far too quickly.
“Gojo, Gojo! Please, stop, I-I can’t! Please, I—ah!”
It was too late. You were cumming again, trembling under his hold. His mouth and fingers slowed down, helping you down from your peak, guiding you back to Earth. He released your clit, pulling away, a string of spit connecting him to your cunt.
“Holy shit. That was good. Do you always cum like that or was it because of me? Wait, don’t answer that, I don’t know if my ego can take it.”
You giggled, breathless, eyes traveling from the ceiling to between your legs where Gojo was sucking your slick off of his fingers, moaning at the taste.
“God, and you taste good too. Not fair!”
You both laughed. You sat up, reaching for him. He got up, complaining for a moment about his knees hurting before he leaned down to kiss you sweetly, his tongue prodding into your mouth. You opened up for him, deepening the kiss, moaning into him. You felt good, really good, and you wanted to keep things going.
You pulled away, staring up at him lustfully.
“Do you wanna keep going?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. He blushed, huffing out a laugh.
“God, I do, I really fucking do, but…” He sighed, hanging his head. “I don’t have any condoms.”
“That’s okay,” you replied quickly. “I’m on the pill.”
His head whipped up, almost busting your lip in the process.
“Really?! And you’re okay with having sex without a condom?” You nodded, making him smile. “Jeez, and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore perfect.”
He stood up, pulling his shirt off, revealing his chiseled physique. He undid his belt, eyeing you the whole time he pulled down his zipper and pushed his pants down. It was all very sexy until he tried to kick off his pants, tripping over them and stumbling to the side, catching himself on your nightstand. You covered your mouth, stifling your laughter. He chuckled as well, brushing himself off even though he was blushing hard.
Gojo joined you on the bed, helping you out of your shirt and bra, letting you lie down and relax against your pillow. He massaged your thighs as he spread them open.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” You nodded, humming in confirmation. He nodded back at you, holding the base of his cock and directing it towards your cunt. “Okay… I’m gonna put it in.”
He pushed the head of his cock into you, hissing quietly at the tight fit. He stopped once the head was in, glancing at you to make sure you were okay. When you nodded at him, he pushed in further, moving slow, steadily, purposefully. Once he bottomed out, he let out a shaky sigh, laughing lightly.
“You’re… you’re tighter than I thought,” he huffed, already out of breath as he met your gaze. “I-I’m gonna move now.”
He pulled back, leaving in just the tip before pushing back in slow, savoring every ribbed inch of your cunt. He pulled out again, pushing in faster, beginning a steady pace.
“Oh… Oh wow. You feel… so much better than I thought you would.”
“Yeah? You like it?” you asked, voice small and sweet.
“Mm-hm. Never thought I’d get to do this, ya know. I thought you’d reject me if I confessed to you.”
“Really?” you asked, eyes widening. He nodded, moving a little faster, making you moan. “I… I had a crush on you from the first moment we met…”
“You did?” You nodded, making him huff. “No way… no fucking way. You liked me all this time? You didn’t just wanna fuck me?”
“N-No… You’re so sweet and nice… I thought you were so cool, Gojo, too cool for me.”
“What? No way… If anything, you’re too cool for me.” He moved faster, making you bounce along the bed. “You’re so fucking smart. I don’t have a clue what’s happening in class half the time, but you do. And you’re so pretty too. You’re way out of my league.”
Your cunt clenched around him and he groaned, moving from his hands down to his forearms, leaning closer towards you. You moved forward and kissed him gently, making him moan in your mouth, tongues dancing as he slowed his pace just a bit. He savored feeling your lips against his, petting your hair, marveling at its texture. He pulled away to stare down at you as he started moving faster again, pumping his cock in and out of you, making you gasp.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, glancing over your figure. “I love your body. I love your curves. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you.”
“G-Gojo—”
“Please, call me Satoru. Wanna hear you say my name.” You swallowed, cupping his cheeks.
“S-Satoru… It f-feels good!”
“Yeah? Feels good? What feels good, baby?”
“Your cock… It feels so good inside me…”
“Yeah? Better than that silly dildo, right? Do I fuck you better than that little toy?”
“Mm-hm! So much better!”
His eyes rolled back and he thrust faster, hands traveling over your form. He palmed at your breast, pinching and pulling your nipple, making you whine. His mouth found your other nipple, sucking hard, making you perk up in his mouth. His tongue rolled around your nipple, mouth slobbering on it. He moved his mouth to your other nipple next, his hands moving to your belly, squeezing and molding it.
“You’re so fucking soft,” he whispered in disbelief. “How are you so fucking soft?”
“I mean… I-I moisturize…”
“But still… I’ve never felt skin as soft as yours. I kind of envy you,” he said with a laugh, making you laugh as well. “God, and your giggle. It’s so fucking cute. I just wanna bite you.” You bit your lip, looking up at him innocently.
“You… you can bite me… if you want…” His eyes widened.
“Fuck, say less.”
He dipped down towards your neck, kissing and licking at it before digging his teeth into you, biting down. You moaned at the feeling, his cock pumping even faster now that he was latched onto your neck. He sucked hard, hands rubbing your plush tummy as he fucked you harder. He pulled back with a loud ‘pop’, admiring the mark he left behind.
“Fuck, I… shit, I think I’m gonna cum. Can I cum in you, pretty thing? I know that’s a lot to ask, but I can’t fucking stand it.” You nodded quickly, moving your hand between your legs to rub your clit.
“Y-Yeah… you can cum in me.”
Satoru groaned, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, moving his fingers quickly to get you to the edge. You moaned, throwing your head back into the pillow, hips bucking up to meet his. You rocked against each other, moaning each other’s names, begging and pleading for God knows what as you simultaneously reached your highs. His hips lost their rhythm, moving faster, more erratically. The unpredictable rhythm made you climax, nails digging into Satoru’s pale back as you came. He followed right after, groaning low as he released inside you. He almost collapsed on top of you as he came, bracing himself on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush you. His hips twitched, the last bit of cum spilling from his cock and filling you up.
The two of you were panting, rubbing your noses against each other as you came down from your highs. He eventually pulled out, watching his cum leak from your abused cunt, smiling softly. He fell to your side, sighing, pulling you towards him and kissing your cheek.
“So,” he started, smiling at you, “guess you won’t be needing that dildo anymore, huh?”
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nerinefy · 14 days
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A LIFE WITH HIM ; FT. some OVERBLOT BOYS .𖥔 ݁ ˖
★ synopsis: how will they be like as your partner?
★ details: you/yours | headcanon | too much fluff | 1,000+ words
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✦ ┊RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
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PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)
★ not too big on PDA, so expect that the most skin-to-skin contact you two can have outside is the occasional hand-holding. he likes it when he's the one initiating the gesture whenever you two are out and about since he still can't help but have the need to be in control even after his overblot (like leading you to places and making sure ur still by his side).
★ he doesn't admit it but he loves when you link your arm with his and nuzzle your face into his shoulder (although he will still scold you if you do it) ESPECIALLY when he's in a mood and is almost about to off the heads of some rule-breakers OR maybe when you're giving too much attention to a rando because he may not admit it but he's greedy and wants your eyes on him only (but he's a gentleman and will never speak about it, only dismissing his inappropriate thoughts.)
★ in private though he's just a snuggly little cuddle bug, even more so if he's tired or stressed or most likely both. so many responsibilities are piled up on his plate just in his second year so the only thing that keeps his shit together is your warm and loving embrace. HE'S A SMALL SPOON. NO BACKSIES, okay maybe he's a big spoon if you're the one who needs a little more loving.
GIFT-GIVING
★ i mean from the name itself ROSEHEARTS, roses are his go-to (he's corny but we love him like that), but if you have a different favorite flower then he'll get those, and if you're allergic he'll try to make those handmade ones! although a little sloppy, pretty successful for his first try. overall he likes giving the traditional gifts like bouquets, stuffed animals, and chocolates :) but if he gets to know you more it might be more personal and intimate stuff that fits your tastes, and of course, should be of use to you too.
THE SIMPLE THINGS
★ whenever you're stuck on a study session late at night he likes inviting you to take a break and brew some tea for you. he'll even share some sweets that Trey gave him. although he won't leave you alone after he finds you like that, instead he pulls out some reviewers he has and helps you work on whatever you find difficult to understand.
WORD AFFIRMATIONS
★ "Our race is nowhere near finished, so please my rose, stay strong, I know you can and want to do so. I am always by your side okay?"
✦ ┊LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
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PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)
★ hugs, hugs, and MORE HUGS. just lots of hugs! doesn't matter if he's a big spoon or small spoon, he needs you by his side 24/7, 365. he just has to have his scent all over you u know, half-breed things. this man is just lazing around anywhere so might as well bring his favorite pillow with him. and no, he doesn't care if you have class and need to take a test worth half your grade, he needs you more! ★ of course, he doesn't have long-ass hair for nothing, go be his peasant and brush it, most preferably with your fingers if he's having a good hair day. your soft fingers massaging his scalp are quite literally going to take him to heaven, and he'll have no regrets tho so go pocket something if that happens. ★ he doesn't pick favorites when it comes to giving and receiving physical affection, he just wants his hands all over you and if the job is done then he's good.
GIFT-GIVING
★ honestly man, i don't know with him. he's raised right so of course he gives you stuff like flowers and so on. on the other hand tho he isn't the type to know what you like and will most likely just ask you what you want him to give you. maybe he'll just take you to go fetch them at the store itself if he isn't sure. but on special days like your birthday or your anniversary (assuming ya'll would last more than a week), he actually tries and it's pretty sweet and more elaborate.
THE SIMPLE THINGS
★ whenever he's forcibly on a call with his brother, which surprisingly is turning into a regular thing, if Farena asks about how he's doing, Leona likely ends up only yapping about you. i mean yeah he missed his last test and he spent his allowance for the month in a week but does Farena know about the time you were mumbling Leona's name in your sleep? he will deny it if he's called out for doing so. NO, HE DID NOT PERIOD. *hangs up*
WORD AFFIRMATIONS
★ "Whatever you're thinking of, don't. It's stupid. As much as I don't like admitting this, you're strong, and even more than most beastmen if you set your mind to your goals."
✦ ┊AZUL ASHENGROTTO
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PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)
★ man's busy all the time so it's hard to get your hands on him. even if he's not busy, he will sprint for his life just to get away from you. not that he dislikes your affection, the concept is just a little foreign to him. give him time to adjust, then you'll find out how soft his tentacles are! ★ when he's actually busy and working on stuff in his office (when the time comes and he's comfortable) he likes it when you flop yourself on his lap and nuzzle into his chest. he feels guilty that he can't give full focus to you since his schedule truly is packed but you inviting yourself into his office at late hours of the day just to snuggle comforts and assures him in some way. he'll definitely find more time for you, he's trying his best lol! ★ overall he isn't one to initiate the touching even if he's fully vulnerable for you. idk too ask him about it. he's just happy you like him enough that you cling unto him. but if you ask him he may favor hand-holding the most, it may be the least contact but feeling your hand on his is enough for him.
GIFT-GIVING
★ HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. i'm not even kidding, even when it's no special day he'd likely buy stuff just because it reminded him of you or when you coincidentally need it which is pretty cute but can be a little creepy.
THE SIMPLE THINGS
★ i saw a fic back then that said he gives you some coupons and by some i mean a TON in hopes that you visit the Lounge and that is absolutely true. though he forgets you two are together and he can ask you nicely to come over but who can say no to 30% off all menu items?
WORD AFFIRMATIONS
★ "My, how could I ever deny what that cute head of yours and those strong arms of yours can do! You are a valuable asset to me...what kind of asset? Well...it's up to you to decide."
✦ ┊JAMIL VIPER
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PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECIEVING)
★ he's also busy, honestly might be one of the, or if not the busiest of all of these guys. when you two have time to be together tho, even if he's knocked out and drained, he'll never show it. but i can say that's only during the early stages of your relationship with him and depending on how you two met. he likes to present himself in his best state and he really can't do so with his schedule so eventually he just melts and the next thing you know he's hugging you from the back any chance he gets and you feel his heartbeat turn slower by the minute. ★ for those moments that he sees you out and about though he likes patting your cute lil head, no matter what your height is. though he is trying to be a little adventurous with you so he leans in to caress your hair gently and suddenly you're met with a quick smooch. (only when there's no one else in sight so yeah adventurous my ass) ★ like leona, he loves it when you play with his hair, and he does not like to admit it. just remember to keep it neat and use a brush while you're at it, plus a facial and maybe a massage because i know those muscles are TIGHT.
GIFT-GIVING
★ his gifts reek of HANDMADE. idk he has those vibes. handmade flowers, or some origami of cute animals, but he likes giving you handwritten letters the most. it can be hard to communicate his real feelings to you so writing is a way for him to freely and easily express those feelings.
THE SIMPLE THINGS
★ whenever he cooks for Kalim or just whenever he cooks, he suddenly has some leftovers that he decided he'd pack up for you. can't bring himself up to say that excuse so he just gives it to you and walks away.
WORD AFFIRMATIONS
★ "Whining is useless. Do the things you're good at, stop worrying about the things you can't. Oh, I'm sorry...did that come off too harsh?"
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★ author's note: congratulate me for coming back. BASK IN MY GLORIOUS PRESCENCE. (i missed u guys too ig)
©nerinefy 2023-2024 all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate.
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instagram is one of my top 1 favourite platforms for athletes i LOVE reading their silly little captions. unrelated but did you know mjf is the aew star with the most gay men in his comments
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