#sorry for the length but I cannot shut up
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Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn
Word Count: 10,664
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences
Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.
Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything
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this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.
hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up
“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.
“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”
As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”
San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”
You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”
San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”
He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.
In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.
You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.
With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.
It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”
“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”
You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”
San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”
You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees. You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”
You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.
You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.
-
“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”
You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”
San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”
Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.
“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”
“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.
“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”
“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”
San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”
You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”
San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.
You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.
But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.
“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”
You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”
Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”
“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”
Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”
You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.
-
“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”
You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.
San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”
You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”
San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”
You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.
“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?
You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”
“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”
No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”
“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”
“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”
“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”
“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”
You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.
When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”
The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.
You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.
-
After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.
He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”
You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”
Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”
Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”
You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”
“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”
You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”
Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”
“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”
“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.
Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.
“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”
You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”
You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”
Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.
With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.
You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.
You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.
And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.
It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.
The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.
Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.
You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.
-
Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.
You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.
It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”
You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”
Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”
You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.”
“You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”
At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”
Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.
You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.
“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”
His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”
You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.
-
Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.
Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.
But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”
Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”
Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.
“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”
“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.
“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.
And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”
Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”
Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.
“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”
You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.
San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”
There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”
Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”
“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”
Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”
Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”
Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.
With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.
-
“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.
As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.
“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.
“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.
“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”
You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”
You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”
He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.
When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”
With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”
San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”
Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”
As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”
You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”
“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”
“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”
San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.
“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”
The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.
As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.
-
It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.
You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.
“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”
Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”
You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”
Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”
You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.
It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”
“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.
He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.
When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.
“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.
Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.
“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”
“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.
“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.
You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.
As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.
“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”
-
“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”
Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”
“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.
“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.
And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”
With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”
Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”
San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”
With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”
San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”
You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”
San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”
“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”
You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.
You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”
“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.
“No–”
“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”
Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.
And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.
You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.
With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.
“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.
“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”
A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”
You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”
There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”
You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”
Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.
He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.
“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”
You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”
San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.
“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.
-
When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.
“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.
“That would be nice.”
San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”
“I love you.”
His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”
His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.
And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.
“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”
You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”
You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.
“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.
His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream
His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.
When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”
“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.
When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.
“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.
He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”
You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”
You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.
With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.
His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”
San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”
You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.
“Answer me, YN.”
“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”
“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.
If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.
“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”
After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.
This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”
#pirateeznet#wkcnet#kvanity#ateez#ateez fanfiction#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez smut#ateez angst#ateez san#san#choi san#san ateez#san x reader#san fanfiction#san fanfic#san angst#san smut#san fluff
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how i think my husbands seungcheol, wonwoo, and mingyu would react when you reach your climax
࿐ seungcheol
- he’d see your face crinkle in pleasure and he’d be soooo turned on by it that his face unknowingly mimicks your expression a bit too.
- he’d be mumbling sweet sweet praise. “fuck, that’s it princess, let it go. only i can make you feel like this, yeah? you’re so pretty like this baby, so so good for me.”
- smoothes out the hair from your face and gets drunk seeing your dazed post-climax eyes. he takes a few moments to just look at you, his pace slow and steady and his face in line with yours, just admiring you.
- he waits for you to fully come down from your high. he kisses you before he bullies his length again into you but deeper, apologizing in between thrusts for being so rough but he knows you can take it. he finishes himself off a few minutes later and cleans you up right after
࿐ wonwoo
- he watches your face with intent because he knows you’re about to cum. his free hand flies down to rub circles on your clit, stimulating you even more. your climax hits you like a truck, your vision goes white and you feel fireworks shoot all the way down to your feet, and you’re gripping onto wonwoo’s biceps
- he stops once your body writhes in pleasure and he suppresses your breathy moans by kissing you. your eyes are closed shut the entire time he kisses you but wonwoo opens his eyes moments in between the kiss because he can’t miss out on just how pretty you look all blissed out
- you open your eyes a few moments later and wonwoo’s trailing kisses down your body, not even caring about himself finishing anymore. he’s tracing your body in sweet and wet kisses but you’re still a bit sensitive and so your body jerks when he kisses in between your thighs. and the goddamn fool just smiles. “i’m sorry, my love.” how dare he
࿐ mingyu
- he’d be so enamored by you, seeing your back leave the bed and your mouth forming a small ‘o’. mingyu falls in love with you all over again and he can’t believe he’s able to do this to you
- you haven’t even come down from your high and he’s said “i love you” a million times already. cannot stress how much this six foot something man is so head over heels for you
- wraps his arm around your waist because he wants to be as close to you as possible, feeling the warmth of your skin and hearing your heart beat. “can’t get enough of you.”
- he loves the way you’re pulsating and squeezing around his cock that he can’t help but bury his face into the crook of your neck. he’s not thrusting into you but instead he just stays there because the feeling you’re giving him is enough already. now the both of you are making lewd and breathy noises that you’ll have to apologize to the neighbors for in the morning
a/n: this is probably the fastest thing i’ve ever written. if there are any typos or errors in this pls look away. i hope this is any good btw bc idk what got in me to write this buuuut yes as always, likes/reblogs/feedback are highly highly appreciated :>
#mingyu smut#wonwoo smut#seungcheol smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#seventeen x y/n#mingyu x y/n#mingyu au#mingyu x reader#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol au#wonwoo x y/n#wonwoo au#wonwoo x reader#mingyu#wonwoo#seungcheol#luvelve’s
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Hiii can i request reader x gojo, where reader keeps ruining his orgasm n just messing with him? And he’s all whiny and begging and shit? 🥺👉👈
Cranberry Juice and Rings
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader
Word Count: 1,725
Warnings: Edging, orgasm denial, smut, whinny Gojo, dirty talk, sexting, toys
A/N: Ah, nothing like a good old whing Gojo fic! I love whimpering, groaning men!
Satoru was known by many as a pain in the ass. He was arrogant and cocky, but that didn’t stop you from loving him. He was one of your favorite people, a goofball, and he spoiled you rotten. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner.
But he was Gojo Satoru. Some days, he was unbearable to deal with, even for you. Days like today, for example. You had gotten a nasty UTI and were on a strict sex ban for a week. Gojo had been kind the first few days, picking up your prescription along with cranberry juice and supplements. By day four of the sex ban, he was pent up and decided it would be fun to tease you relentlessly. He started sexting you, sending you pictures and voice memos that had you clenching your thighs to try to ease the throbbing between your legs.
Satoru: I’m so sweaty! Look, it’s running down my V-line, baby~!
You: Stop trying to turn me on asshole. I literally cannot flick my bean or have sex for the next three days.
Satoru: Oh? That sucks for you. I don’t have to deal with that.
The man then proceeded to send you a video of him jerking off in the bathroom. If you didn’t feel like razors sliced you each time you used the bathroom, you would have found him and made him pay for a new pair of underwear and take care of the mess he had turned you into. However, the unpleasant throbbing between your legs prevented you from acting upon your desires.
You: Keep it up, Satoru. I will make you regret your choices.
Satoru: Oooh, I’m so scared~!
Your dear, sweet, idiotic boyfriend did not heed your warning. He only seemed to get worse after your ominous threat. Three days of torture later, Satoru eagerly ra into your shared condo, his calendar chiming with a reminder today was the day your medical sex ban was lifted. He has a week's worth of pussy eating to make up for, and he planned to take his time with you.
”Sweetheart!” He sang out, making his way through the condo. “I hope you’re ready!” Stepping inside the bedroom, Satoru blinked, finding you sitting on the edge of the bed in your sky-blue lace set. “What a good girl you are!” Drooping to his knees before you, he clapped his hands together. “Thanks for the mea—“
”Shut the fuck up and get on the bed.”
The stern tone of your voice has Satoru staring. “I’m sorry?” His smile was full of confusion as he forced your legs apart. “I said thanks for the meal, didn’t I?” Satoru began to dip his head between your thighs, but before he could reach your sweet, dripping core, you put your foot on his forehead, pushing him away. “Hey!” His bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
“Didn’t I warn you I would make you regret sending me all those thirst trap pictures and messages?”
”H-Huh?”
”I said, didn’t I warn you I would make you regret your choices?”
”W-Well, I m-mean you did, but I—“
”Good, boy.” A round silicon ring hit him in the face. “Now put that on and get on the bed.” Gulping, Satoru shakily did as you commanded, regret setting in the pit of his stomach as he did.
Any hopes for mercy went out the window as you bounced up and down on his cock as he sat upright against the headboard. You were grinning, hands gripping his shoulders as you came around him, pulling off, denying him the pleasure of feeling your cum, denying his orgasm for the third fucking time.
”F-Fuck Toru~ you’re such a good dildo.”
”S-Sweetheart—please, baby, I need you.”
”You need me?” You questioned with faux sympathy. “Oh, sweet boy, am I teasing you too much?” A delicate hand wrapped around his red throbbing length, the cock ring preventing him from cumming, thus making him ten times more sensitive.
”A-Ah! Yes, yes, baby, please, please, I need you!” Blue eyes watched as you stroked your hand up and down, pre-cum dribbled out of his tip, running over your manicured nails. “Oh fuck, I can feel it, keep going, keep going don’t stop!”
“Yeah?” Satoru cried out as you wrapped your other hand around him. Your hands squeezed his shaft as you moved them up and down, smirking as he whimpered, eyes transfixed on your tiny hands as his mouth opened in an ‘O’ shape. “Are you close, Toru? Are you going to make a mess for me?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
”Gonna cum pretty boy?”
”Fuck yes! Oooh fuck I’m so close, so fucking close, almost there, almost there!”
The second you saw white lashes flutter, you yank your hands away, preventing him from reaching his sweet release. Your boyfriend’s eyes narrowed and shot open in disbelief, focusing on the throbbing, swollen red tip that sobbed pre-cum instead of actual cum. His dick looked as upset as him, the intense orgasm fading.
”Babe!” Satoru threw his head back against the wooden frame with a pathetic whine. “I wanna cum!” Reaching out, you gently rubbed the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip.
”You wanna cum?”
”Yes, so bad!”
You straddled his hips with a hum, lowering yourself back down onto his velvety shaft with a satisfied moan. “Well, that sucks for you, I don’t have to deal with that.” You quoted his text before dragging your tight wet pussy up and down his swollen cock.
Satoru cried out, whining as you used his cock like it was a sex toy. This was literal torture, feeling your wet, warm walls clamp down around him, watching you tilt your head back in pleasure. Even hearing your moans fill the bedroom was driving him insane. You looked so hot and beautiful when you used him like this. He just wished he could be holding onto your hips, fucking his cock up into you, filling you with his cum as you both lost yourselves in pure orgasmic bliss. Lips moving against lips, swallowing each other, moans as you came down.
Instead, Satoru was crying out, whimpers sounding in the back of his throat. His hands fisted the sheets as he bit down on the inside of his cheek. He had thought teasing you this week was all fun and games! Get you all worked up and desperate for him to rearrange your insides. In his horny mind, it was like mental edging without touching
Yourself. What a terrible mistake that had been. The only one having fun and getting off at the current moment was you. While he suffered from the worst case of blue balls in his entire life.
“Shit! Oooh, shit!” Your brows furrowed as you cried out, reaching down and rubbing your clit. “C-Cumming~! Cumming Toru!” Just as your orgasm hit, you pulled off of him, squirting all over his stomach and cock with a squeal.
“F-Fuck, oh god.” Satoru quickly grabbed his cock, stroking himself off while you came all over him. “So hot~ so fucking hot!”
You recovered just in time to see Satoru jerking himself off, the tips of his ears turning red as his eyes began to roll back. “Nuh-uh!” swatting his hands away, Satoru groaned. “Bad boy!” When he reached for his swollen cock again. You grab both his wrists, pinning them down on either side of him. “I said no!” Poor Satoru cried out in frustration, tears welling in his eyes.
“Sweetie, baby, please.” He sobbed, cock dribbling more pre-cum onto his lower abdomen. “Please let me cum, please, baby, please! I'm sorry I was such an ass this week. I won't ever do it again!” Fingers gripped the sheets underneath him. “Please let me cum! Please!” Those tears filling his eyes finally spilled over his white lashes, staining his flushed cheeks.
“Oh, my baby~” Leaning in, you locked the salty tears up with the tip of your tongue. “You learned your lesson?”
“Uh-huh!” Satoru hiccuped as more tears streamed down his face.
“You see how it's not nice to tease? How cruel is it to cum in front of your partner when you're unable to do anything?”
“Yes! I’m sorry, honey! So sorry!”
Releasing both his wrists, you grabbed the sparkly blue cock ring that was securely on his base. “Good boy, Toru.” As soon as the toy was off, Satoru shoved you off, pushing you into the mattress. “Ooh fuck!” Giggled erupted as he threw both your feet over his shoulders before sliding into you.
“So good! S-aS good!” He cried out, throwing his head back, crying softly, and he slammed on and out of you. “I’m going to cum! Please cum with me! Milk my cock, baby! Milk it!”
“Yes, Toru! Cum inside of me, baby!” Your fingers found your clit with ease, rubbing it back and forth, whimpering as Satoru twitched inside of you. “Cum on, baby~ cum for me!”
Satoru’s jaw dropped open, eyes clamped shut as he cried out. He was crying out your name, whining, and whimpering like a cat in heat. Thick ropes of cum painted your insides, filling you to the absolute brim, leaving you crying out with him. He rubbed his hips against you, only stopping when his eyes rolled back, dizziness overcoming him.
He collapsed onto your chest, full weight resting on you as he whimpered into the crook of your neck. He could stay like this forever, but just as he found himself dozing off, you were tapping on his shoulders. Lazily lifting his head, cerulean eyes met yours.
“Five minutes; I’m pushing you off if you stay inside me any longer.”
“Huh? Why?” Your boyfriend panted out.
“The last time we fell asleep like this, I got a UTI!”
“Mmm, it’s fine.” he’s sleepy, wrapped his arms around you. “Just five minutes.” you relaxed against him as he agreed on your time limit. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, Satoru.” as he snuggled in closer, humming sleepily, you smiled, fingers brushing strands of hair off his brow. Maybe ten minutes wouldn’t hurt.
Forever Tag List!
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness
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Vulnerability
pairing: ex!Satoru Gojo x fem!reader
word count: 1.1k
warnings: mildly angsty bc y'all broke up before, rough sex kinda, sex with feelings, y’all broke up and he’s back (surprise, surprise), unprotected sex, creampie, possessive gojo
notes: once Satoru is in love, he is in wholeheartedly. you are never getting rid of him <3
“Say it again, baby,” Satoru drawls, drunk in the pleasure that you’re providing as you glide up and down on his impressive length.
“I love you,” you whisper, just like old times as your hands rest on either side of his neck, keeping his ice blue gaze fixed on your face.
A lazy smile spreads across his handsome face as he guides your hips, his long fingers tightening around your flesh.
“I missed that. Missed you,” he whispers back, words that you’d never thought you’d hear. Not from this man.
It’s been months since he walked out that door. Since you told him to get the fuck out of your life and never come back. He was petrified of commitment and that wasn’t a secret to anyone who knew of your relationship well enough.
“I love you,” you say again, earning you a groan from a man beneath you.
“I love you too, gorgeous,” he replies, nearly stopping your steady rhythm, but the feel of his glorious cock keeps you going.
“Say it again,” you echo his words, desperate to hear those words after months of his denying you of the pleasure.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you, baby,” he breathes out. “I fucking mean it too,” he growls quietly.
His hands nearly bruise your hips, fingertips pressing into your skin when he starts holding you as tight as he wish he would have before. When he was too proud and too scared to just utter the words that roll off his tongue so easily now.
“I need you. I fucked up and I know it,” he pants, easily flipping the two of you over so that he lumbers over you.
He props himself up on one hand and catches your jaw in the other, using a firm but gentle grip to keep your half lidded eyes fixed on him as he keeps driving into you.
“You’re never gonna get rid of me, baby. I can’t imagine a life without you and I won’t. I won’t fucking do it,” he snarls, the sound a delicious noise reverberating between your two sweat slicked bodies.
“Satoru,” you start, but he cuts you off.
“I mean it. Your pussy feels fucking amazing choking my cock, but that isn’t why I’m saying this,” he promises, never missing a beat as his impressive length pummels your poor, abused pussy.
“Satoru!” You cry, hand wrapping around his wrist, your hand so small in comparison to his.
“That’s it. Keep crying for me. Keep saying my fucking name. You will only ever say my name when you feel this good. Do you understand me?”
You nod, staring up at him, fighting the need to screw your eyes shut and the pressure in the depths of your core threatens to snap and ignite your entire body on fire.
“Good,” he grits out, teeth clenched as he doubles down, railing his rock hard cock into you, rushing you towards your finish.
All you can do is hold the fuck on as he sends you flying, soaring up into the heavens as you howl his name. Only his name. The only one you ever wanted to leave your lips as you enter complete and total, all encompassing bliss.
“Fuck,” he sighs, a shiver rocking his body as every muscle in his imposing form tenses and he breaks with you.
He grunts, his body flexing right as something in him snaps and he continues bullying his dick into your pulsing walls. They hug him so tight he feels like he might black out.
For a moment, he swears he does. His hips cast forward on their own, forcing him impossibly deeper as his tip knocks against the deepest part of you, spilling his seed inside to claim you once and forever as his and his alone.
Both of you are lost in a haze, but nothing has ever been more clear to the man panting in your ear. He needs you. He cannot live without you and he’s only sorry that it took him so long to admit it.
That’s why he showed up at your door tonight. Begging for you to just let him in and hear him out. That’s how you ended up right here, desperately trying to suck air into your lungs while your nerves scream and sing in response to every little touch that he offers your overstimulated form.
“I love you,” he reaffirms, the words a soft whisper against your collarbone as he trails his lips across them.
“I love you too,” you whisper, still in disbelief that you’re able to add the little ‘too’ on the end of that sentence.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t say it before, but I’ve always felt it. I’ve always needed you,” he swears, collapsing beside you to bundle you into his arms.
His gentle lips pepper kisses across your scalp, your forehead, and your temple, slowly trialing across your face.
“I missed you. I mean that too, baby,” he says with more conviction than you’ve ever heard leave his lips, his voice shaking with emotion. “I will never leave you doubting that again. I swear. I fucking swear it.”
You’ve never seen him like this. Never heard his voice with anything other than pure, radiating confidence imbued within it. Now, his voice quakes. His tone is full of tremors and uncertainty, something that is foreign to the one who has always known himself as the strongest. Weakness had no place in his words.
But with you, he is weak and he knows it. He has always known it and just never spoken the words aloud, but if it means keeping you. Having you, he will gladly break down those walls to keep you within them. He will build them back up to keep you here with him forever. Where you belong.
“I love you. I was scared and I can say that now. I was too petrified then. Afraid that I’d lose you somehow, but I went and did that anyway and I would do anything not to do that again,” he whispers, his nose nudging against your cheek.
“I’m yours, baby,” you whisper back. “I have always been yours for the taking. I’m not going anywhere.”
Relief washes over him as he holds you tighter, his spindly fingers dragging across your spine.
“I won’t let you,” he vows, holding you close enough that you believe he’s trying to mold you directly into his body. Into his ribs.
Straight into his heart, which you have no doubts that you now know belongs solely to you.
thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a like, comment, or reblog and they are all greatly appreciated <3
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n
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could you write walking in on bill and tom jerking off (separately obviously)💀
$. caught.
☆ synopsis ; you walk in on bill and tom “pleasuring” themselves (SEPARATE SCENARIOS FOR EACH BROTHER!!)
★ pairing ; bill x fem!reader, tom x fem!reader
☆ word count ; 2121
★ warnings ; language, smut (18+), dirty talk?, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation.
a/n – hi so I cannot do headcannons to save myself so here are short lil drabbles of what unrealistically would happen if u walked in on them, hope this is okay :)
☆
BILL :
your face dropped, the bag once gripped within your hand—contents including aldi snacks—plummeted roughly to the floor beside you.
bill’s face mimicked your own, instantly turning a dark scarlet. he couldn’t get a hold of the blanket beside him fast enough as he attempted to cover the erection gripped within his right hand.
the room was filled with silence, not even breathing could be heard between the two of you before bill blinked for the first time in what felt to be hours.
“i-i am so sorry…” the boy stuttered, his voice throaty and sick as he instantly shut the laptop beside him.
“no, no…” you attempted to find the will to speak, to say anything to rid of the rising tension between his crotch and the way you almost began salivating at what you saw.
“its…” you began, though was harshly cut-off at the way you envisioned bill’s mouth hanging open, erotic moans and groans leaving his strong lungs as he watched your head bop up and down on what he once was touching himself.
you swallowed the thought, biting your bottom lip as the invisible restraints within you held you back from pouncing on the man and finishing what he had started.
“it’s my fault…” you finally let out, eyes roaming bill’s suggestive state-- sweat glistened on his fore-head, long-black locks clinging to his neck from the high he had been chasing, the way his shirt was prompted just above his star tattoo, revealing his flexed muscles as he lent against the bed-head—all making you do the rather rash thing in which your body found to be instinctive.
stalking forward, his dark eyes had not left yours once, studying each and every slight movement you made.
you felt the soft bedding beneath your knees as you climbed on top of the dumbfounded boy—god, he looked sexy without makeup.
he watched as your legs encircled his own, straddling him as you removed your jacket and threw it to the floor—he licked his lips, tongue ring present for only moments before he felt your hand at the peak of the sheet covering what you needed in your possession oh so gravely.
you shuffled backward, the blanket gripped in your shivering fingertips following in suit until it revealed his still hard cock. it was large, larger than what your eyes had first tasted.
the way the pre-cum seeped out of its tip was something you had only dreamed off—the position of your tongue licking the base of his cock something that bill had only seen within his heated fantasies.
he seethed as he watched your palm slowly spread your own spit, combined with his pre-cum, up and down his length. bills hand instantly met roughly with the blanket beneath him as he groped harshly at its soft fabric.
you couldn’t wait any longer—you needed to hear the pitiable boy beneath you whine. and as you licked his blossom-pink tip, his sounds did not disappoint. you began drawing circles around it before your throat slowly lowered to the base of his cock. you groaned as his size hit the back of your throat, eyes already beginning to water before you mentally prepared to finish what he’d started.
he cursed under his breath as his manicured hand pulled his shirt up higher on his stomach-- making sure to witness everything you’d been doing to his already close cock—the ironic situation being that he’d been jerking off to exactly what was now a reality.
your pace started unhurried as you could already feel the length twitching within your throat, figuring that he must’ve been close to finishing before you’d rudely barged in.
as your pace quickened, so did his rapid breathing. the way you began to gag on his dick only making him beyond vocal as he slurred on his words, fighting the moans which escaped his raw throat.
“fuck…” he whined again, “im s-so close…” bill’s mouth whining your name only made you accelerate your speed, instantly forcing another moan out of him.
“i-i…” his breath caught in his throat. he attempted to swallow it down with him though could only groan, teeth seething as he felt pure euphoria from your warm throat.
his head shot backward till it lent against the bed-head behind him, your eyes lifting to watch his chest rise and fall whilst your mouth dealt with his shuddering dick.
as you watched bill find the strength to bring his neck upward once-more, instantly locking eyes with your own, his mouth fell agape. the way your mouth engulfed his length so easily, the sound of your sloppy gagging on his cock, he couldn’t handle it.
“i-im coming…” his knuckles became white as he drilled them into the bed, moaning loudly as his long awaited high slammed into him, eyes rolling to the back of his head being followed by a string of curses.
you felt his warm seed hit the back of your throat, the salty taste soon fading as you lifted yourself off his dick hesitantly.
you held the taste on your tongue as your hands met with his chin, forcing his head off the support of the bed-board and drawing his attention to your mouth. you made him watch as his cum, once flattened against your tongue, now travelled down your throat. he panted through an open mouth, watching intently as you licked the excess liquid from your lips.
TOM :
“ill be right back.” you yawned, looking to bill who rested contentedly next to you, his eyes not leaving the TV screen for even a moment.
you were to make sure you were quick—going to the toilet, washing hands, and sprinting back downstairs as to not miss any of the movie—this was your initial plan.
as your feet leapt from one step too another—missing every second plank—you turned down the corridor until reaching the door in which you’d been looking for.
without a second thought, you rushed inside. immediately regretting your hasty choice, you jumped backward at the sight in front of you.
tom, leaning against the tiled wall within the shower, held his erection within his fist. as he heard the door swing open, he lifted his head instantly to the noise and jumped just as you had.
“tom, fuck!” you yelped before turning around and stamping your foot on the floor.
“how in fuck is this my fault!?” he screamed over the running water, “didn’t you hear the shower running?”
come to think of it, no, you hadn’t. you had been in too much of a rush to even realise someone had been inside the room you so desperately needed—your original motive instantly being forgotten after this crude incident.
“fuck, i’m sorry, alright?” you mumbled before making your way back to where you had just been—though suddenly something gripped at your wrist. you were met with wet, soggy fingers pulling you toward them.
tom had his well-known devilish smirk painted across his face, watching your shocked expression as you choked back a yelp once your face met with the warmth of running water.
“tom, fuck off!” it was too late to escape, you were soaked. you turned to face away from his naked body, eyes shut as his grip remained stagnant on your wrist.
the pyjama shorts and crop-top which were once white became only a transparent grey. as you realised this, your arms instantly wrapped around your body—no, they weren’t your arms; they were tom’s.
you felt his heavy, damp dreads fall to your shoulder as his face stopped beside your right ear.
“turn around.” he whispered against the delicate skin of your ear-lobe, your thighs instinctively pressing together as you felt a heat begin budding within you.
you had no choice but to oblige to his demand, and as you did, you were met with first, his naked legs, eyes moving upward until they reached his own brown-ones. his teeth were almost perfectly white, his smirk horribly irresistible as you watched him gradually lean into your neck, beginning to plant feverish kisses to it’s damp surface.
you couldn’t help but extend it for him further, allowing tom to fully take advantage of the space between you and your now soaked shirt—a good day to be bra-less.
you felt as his calloused fingers began roaming your curves, digging into your waist before your own fingers began pulling on his wet dreads—let loose and out of their usual up-do.
your thumb met his jaw, dragging his face out of your neck and toward your lips. instantly, his tongue licked at the corners of your mouth before entering. as they fought for dominance, fought for air, he had won, pushing you against the wall before he launched into groping at your exposed boobs.
he palmed at them, massaging them until his hands lowered to the hem of your shorts. you gasped as you felt his slick digit instantly enter your aching entry—he felt no need in preparing you.
“fuck, tom!” you clung to his back as your chests met one-another, slippery surfaces causing intense friction. his fingers curled inside you, causing you to cry out in pure pleasure as your nails dug into his back. you felt his mouth twist into an upward grin, he appreciated each and every noise leaving your plump lips.
then, another finger had begun pumping into you.
you whined his name against the crook of his neck, beginning to find it difficult to hold yourself upright as his pace only quickened, roughened.
then, he pulled himself away, your bodies parting making you whine as his warmth disappeared and you were hit with the steam of the shower. though as his fingers left you craving his touch, you watched tom kaulitz begin to get on his knees, his fingers swiping a group of dreads behind his ear before his hands gripped at the soft plush of your thighs.
parting them gently, soft lips trailed small kisses until they had reached your aching centre.
his fingers curled around your soaked shorts and pulled them to the floor, eyeing your clean bud before you felt his tongue lap at its folds.
again, you cried out his name amongst the sound of the running water which drummed against the tiles below.
the sensation of his lip-ring against your slick entrance caused your legs to go weak as his experienced tongue lapped up any juices he could. he was hungry, starving, eating you as if you were his prey.
“you taste…” another lick, “so fucking good.” he mumbled against you, causing intense vibrations to be sent straight to your uterus.
“keep going…” you mumbled, you couldn’t help but grip at the lose dread-locks hanging delicately around his jaw as he admired you from below—watching each erotic expression you made which only helped the hand that had begun working at himself.
he had been so desperate to please you for so long-- long enough to make him kneel to you and praise your pussy.
you looked down, watching as the hand working at himself caused his eyes to shut tightly. his free hand began to snake its way to your lower stomach, pressing down gently against it, forcing another whine out of you as you felt yourself nearing closer and closer to your end.
“im so close… please…” you begged as your head hit the fogged tiles behind you—the same tiles in which tom had been leaning on for support only moments ago.
and as his tongue entered you one final time, his enflamed lips rubbing against your sensitive clit, you felt your guts twist and pull until you’d felt your high hit you.
you moaned his name over and over as euphoria layered itself upon your heavy eye-lids, squeezing them shut as you felt tom lick your slick away, before finally his tongue glided over his lips—they were covered your juices.
you looked below, eyes meeting with the white liquid which now lay on tom’s tanned thighs. your breath was heavy, laboured, and your body felt to be on fire as you fought against the shower’s mist.
you noticed that tom had been in a similar state, his position painting him in a completely different light as he slowly lifted himself from his knees to an up-right position—you forgot how tall he was as he towered over your now pathetic, trembling body.
“take off the shirt, I can see everything anyways.”
#tom kaulitz#tokio hotel#tom kaulitz smut#tom kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz#tom kaulitz x you#tom kaulitz x oc#tokio hotel smut#bill kaulitz smut#bill kaulitz x reader
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heya @idlesana i have news to say
gp! professor!sana is the sweetest, most responsive professor you've ever had. it's so crazy that she's patient with everyone, especially you. she knows that you've been having difficulty with her class, and makes sure that you're understanding and passing everything.
she's been too patient with you and you just can't help but to adore this absolute glory of a woman— kind, beautiful, and fuck does she know how to make you sit.
well, it wasn't your fault to miss her class. it was your best friend's party, and she's your first class, so you went to her class, half-awake, half-sober.
that was the only day you saw miss minatozaki mad. (and fuck, she's hot.)
after the class, she makes you sit, stares at you with her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose and looks through it with literally the angriest (hottest) version you've seen her.
"you're late, y/n," she stood up, hands on table, still looking at you. "it's your first class of the first semester yet you're here like some drunk fuck."
"so what?" you sighed. "miss sana i do appreciate the comcern but you can't j-"
"what do you mean by i can't just?" she inches closer to you, sitting just on top of the table with her eyebrows creasing in the middle, in anger with what you just said.
"you've said it before to me," she lowly chuckles. "you," she points at your chest. "cannot," she does it again, a little more forcefully. "pass," you try to make her stop, but you just froze at her reaction. "this," she looks at you. "fucking class," she presses, a little more to make you feel a certain pain. "without me."
"i mean it's just a reaction since you've been really helpf-"
"did you think i'm just supposed to be helpful to you all the time? dumb bitch." her hands are now on both sides of your chair, looking down on you. "not even trying to listen to me, just busy with her shitfaced hangover."
"miss min-"
she puts a finger on your lips to shut you up. "don't even try to reason it out. where were you last night? out being fucked by some girl, drunk, on the streets? you look like you'd be the type to."
"no, for fucks sake that was my best friend's party," i chuckled at her. "just got really drunk and it must happens th-"
"another worth from your filthy mouth or i'm going to punish you."
you just nodded, feeling her backing away from you.
"let's make a compromise," she sighs, leaning against her table once more. "let me fuck you like little bitch you are, and i'm going to help you pass. hell, i'd even retell the whole lesson when you're fully sober. deal?"
you couldn't stop yourself, so you stood up to take her into a kiss, deep, passionate, as your tongues clash with each other.
"oh, um," you pulled away, seeing sana display a smirk. "uh.. sorry i-"
"don't be," she chuckles as she held your cheek. she comes close to your ear, whispering, "bend your ass over for me on the table like the little slut you are."
you did, as told, and she pulls down your pants, leaving you in your red, lace panties.
"pretty," she chuckles, tracing her hands on the pattern that drew along your ass. "who's got you dressing up like this, hm?"
"i just didn't have anything lef-"
"i told you, dumb slut," she faces you again, now removing her tie from her neck, pulling it to tie on your wrists. "no talking until i say so. got it, baby?"
you just nodded, complying with her condition. she unbuttons her white dress shirt, slow, teasing as you just watch her get undressed infront of you.
she humms, finally removing her shirt, unclasping her bra. she then moves on to her skirt, revealing a skintight compression boxer underneath.
"fuck," she grunts, hurrying to move the boxers to free her 10 inch cock. "hmm," she sighs, finally removing the length, so hard and ready that you heard it slap to her stomach.
"open up," she held you by the cheek, making you look up at her. "be a good girl and suck mommy's cock." she says, tapping the head on your mouth, forcing you to open. you opened your mouth for her, the length and girth consuming until the tip of your throat, choking you. she puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail as she ruts her hips, not even letting you room to breathe.
"fuck, so tight," she grunts once more, fucking into your mouth faster, making you gag on her cock. "can't take it all, hm?" she teases, making her thrusts slow but forceful.
"take it," she sighs, cumming in your mouth, pulling out to let herself see you receive her cum. "swallow, baby," she said, putting a hand on your cheek. "be a good girl."
you swallow, looking into her eyes like pleading to remove the itch between your thighs.
she then moves, going to your ass, spanking it hard enough to make you yelp.
she pulls your panties down, seeing a trail of wetness that had formed. she kneels and spreads your ass cheeks apart, letting herself see your wetness, so ready and inviting.
she licks a stripe from your clit, to your slit, making her tongue taste your arousal and need for her.
you whined, and received another spank, removing her tongue away fron you.
"so desperate," she lowly chuckles as she stood up, lining her length to your wet, needy little pussy. "i bet you're going to be so tight and warm for me, huh."
she inserts herself in an instant, her full length and girth stretching you whole. "fuck!" you screamed in shock.
she giggled as she leaned to whisper on you. "bet it's your first time to be fucked like this, huh."
you just nodded as she thrusted, slow, getting used to the tightness of your cunt.
"fuck, maybe it's your first time," she says. "is it?"
"yeah, ah," you moaned, tearing up as the stretch was really painful, but her being so deep inside you brings you some kind of pleasure you couldn't explain. she lets you hold onto her hand, as she thrusts in and out of your wetness, slow, gentle, trying to get you to be a little loose. "more."
"yeah, more?" she says, now her hands are placed on both sides of your waist as she builds up her speed. "if you're going to behave, and be my little cocksleeve, i'll give you the most, hm?" she whispered, letting herself succumb into your tightness.
safe to say her best was to let you go down the hallways limping.
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ask for essays on tommy's nerves have essays on tommy's nerves delivered directly to your doorstep!!! sorry in advance for the length and incoherency of this ask because lou's acting choices genuinely make me feel deranged, we are so lucky to have him.
exhibit a: the hand on the chin when buck opens the door. he's thought about this so carefully you can tell from the moment he enters the scene. and i don't even mean the kiss. i don't think tommy knew that was going to happen until approx. five seconds before it did. but he wants to get this conversation right.
exhibit b: the fucking breathlessness when he says "we can talk" (yes we're still not even in the loft yet). like that is the breathlessness of a man seeing whom he assumes is his emotionally unavailable big boy crush and realising he's going to have to smooth things over between him and the man most likely making him unavailable to tommy. (it's also just tommy seeing big beefy tank buckley and getting a little flustered methinks)
exhibit c (moving actually into the loft now): obsessed, deeply deeply obsessed with the way buck removes the obstacle of the kitchen island between them and tommy immediately crosses his arms over his chest like he's trying to put it back between them subtly because he still doesn't think he's allowed to Want.
exhibit d: the way he literally cannot look at buck as buck starts moving in closer quite literally makes me want to rip my hair out. like baby, you're allowed to look i promise, i swear.
exhibit e: the breakout of the laugh to full seriousness as he commits to the "i'm renowned for my fake mouth static" is so special to me because. i have done that. i have committed to a bit that was perhaps a bit too revealing/suggestive with my heart pounding as a way of testing the waters. and then the relieved amusement of his "cmon hey" when buck plays into it.
exhibit f: the way tommy looks at buck when buck's giving his little "threw in with us no hesitation" speech is so. that man is ANCHORING his eyes to buck's eyes. he's still not allowed to look, he is being respectful, he is overcompensating, he is FIGHTING for his life.
exhibit g: his tiny little smile when buck mentions the tour. you wanted to see me? 🥺
exhibit h: the fucking recoil when buck says he wanted to get to know him. the disbelief. the oh. the maybe i can have this.
exhibit i: the slow drop of his smile the more time buck spends mentioning eddie (which btw why is that line so long fuck off buck stand up!!) thinking oh never mind.
exhibit j: "i could teach you" with that bashful little shrug of his shoulders. i could teach you if you'd let me.
exhibit k: the realisation that sinks in after buck says about flying lessons. he wants to spend time with me, he's moving closer. oh shit, i'm allowed, i'm allowed, i'm allowed. the seriousness. the i have to make him understand i want him. the first time he lets his eyes drop to buck's lips.
exhibit l: my attention? one last check. one last check just to make sure. i can want this, i can want him.
exhibit m: his little kind of glassy-eyed smile between "i did maim my best friend" and "my sister". he is not listening to a word buck says. he is making a decision. a terrifying decision, but he's already made it.
exhibit n (typed through tears lol): the way he squeezes his eyes shut as he pulls away. buck is opening his but tommy squeezes his shut harder. he doesn't want to see the disgust on buck's face. he's bracing for rejection. he's hoping, hoping, hoping.
exhibit o: the breathlessness of "like that?" please tell me that was okay, please tell me that's allowed, please please please. the clench of his jaw as he waits for buck's answer, the slight nod like he's confirming something to himself.
exhibit p: the smile when it sinks in that buck wants this. the smile before the immediate "so that was okay?" just needing that verbal confirmation for buck, yeah, but also for himself.
and then for me it's the complete shift in tommy's demeanour after buck confirms it's okay. he goes from this quiet, hesitant, reserved tommy to this confident, flirty, little bit sensual tommy the moment he's allowed. cross town traffic 🫦 came in a car this time 😏. it's just such a wild switch up but it makes so much sense because the nerves have gone. he's allowed to want. (jesus got halfway through the alphabet sorry)
SAMI IM GONNA SCREAM BRB TIME TO WATCH THIS SCENE SIDE BY SIDE W UR ANALYSIS THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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33 in hand holding with leto?
Sorry this took so long nonnie!
33. bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go
Warnings: Angst; pining; brief wound description
"Leave us."
The sound of his voice makes your stomach churn with nerves. Your eyes flit to Gurney's just in time to see the thin press of his lips, and his warning frown—don't shoot your mouth off, not now. He pats your knee before he rises from the chair across from yours. You don't have to turn to see whatever looks pass between him and the Duke. You can only hope that he offers another warning, but you can't be sure. Gurney has an allegiance to the Duke that he doesn't have to you.
You're a fellow soldier, and you have his respect, but the Duke rose him from the hellish Harkonnen pit and gave him a new life.
You force yourself to focus on your breathing as you hear the door shut behind Gurney, leaving you alone with—
You don't dare look at Leto as he lowers himself to sit in front of you.
He's silent as he takes stock of the supplies that Gurney had laid out to tend to your wound, the gaping cut that runs the length of your palm where you'd stopped a knife from connecting with Leto's neck. Gurney has already cleaned it, laying the wound plain for his Grace.
Leto takes a jar of salve up, removing the lid and allowing the sharp, sterile scent to fill the air between the two of you. Your heart leaps as he cradles your hand in his, and scoops a hearty amount out. It's going to sting, but you resolve to sit still and stone-faced through it all.
You wait for the rebuke, the scolding that you acted recklessly. You wait for him to tell you that your blood is spilled across his desk, his documents. You wait for him to tell you that he would have handled it without need for your intervention.
Your answers sit ready on your tongue. Your act was not reckless, it was necessary. You've spilled blood for the House of Atreides, and this is no different. Copies of documents can be made; desks can be cleaned or removed. There is only one of him, and he cannot be replaced or replicated. You're certain that he could have handled it. You know that it is a quick man, strong, and capable.
But you had seen the knife, and you had leapt without thinking. You hadn't given a second thought between putting yourself between him and harm's way.
Leto caps the salve again, reaching for a thick roll of bandages next. You fight to keep your palm open despite the prickle of the medicine itching your aching skin.
You finally allow yourself to glance at him as his hones in on wrapping the bandage. You can feel him moving slowly, wrapping your hand with care. His lashes sweep across the apples of his cheeks; his lips are set in a grim purse; his jaw is tight. With each pass of the wrapping, he draws in a soft breath and sighs it out again. You can feel him tuck the edge in securely, and nearly flinch when his gaze lifts to hold yours.
Neither of you speak as you sit there, your hand still cradled in his, his thumb sweeping across the side of your palm, away from the wound.
"...Do not do it again."
It's a warning, and a plea. It hits you in the heart, and in that moment, you know that you cannot follow his order.
You will do it again. You will do it again and again and again until every threat is neutralized, or until you draw your last breath.
But if voicing the lie will help him sleep; if it'll lessen those dark, growing circles beneath his eyes; if it'll keep you on his detail, where you can ensure his safety—
"I won't."
#Leto Atreides x Reader#Leto Atreides x You#Leto Atreides/Reader#Leto Atreides/You#Leto Atreides fic#Leto Atreides imagine#asks#replies#anon#requests
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NCT as Husbands Series: Mark Lee
summary: fluff, drabble, husband!mark
wc: 823
nct as husbands masterlist
a/n: ...if I don't get to fall in love with a guy who's just like mark!
I just know that Mark would be the best! husband!!
He’s so romantic and just such a gentleman!! Like even after being with you for so long he takes the time to listen to you and understand you. which is definitely his way of loving you!
You would have to remind him of how great of a husband he is. because showing him you appreciate him will make him melt. But also because he’s so infatuated with you and sometimes feels like he isn’t good enough for you 🥺 so of course you have to remind him of how amazing he is!
Also you're literally his muse! like he finds so much inspiration from you. The amount of love songs and sweet poems he's written for you 🥺🥺
Also doesn’t shut up about how much he’s in love with you. Like makes sure the whole world knows. like he literally cannot stop himself from talking about you but it's just because he loves you so much and can't help himself from bringing you into every conversation.
He's just such a sweet and genuine soul and you would be the luckiest girl in the world to have him as your husband!
It's two in the morning when you wake up from a deep sleep. You think that it's time to get up until you see the time and lay your head back on the pillow.
It's not until your hand reaches out for Mark, that you notice he's not in bed with you. You two had both fallen asleep together, so you know that he must have woken up earlier and couldn't go back to sleep.
This was a typical occurrence, and often all he needs to fall back asleep is to cuddle with you as you gently scratch your nails up and down his back to soothe him. So, you hop out of bed and throw on a sweater so you can go find him in hopes of coaxing him back to bed.
You're about four steps from the living room, when you hear muffled sniffles. Your heart immediately drops knowing that Mark was crying. You make your way over to him on the couch and place your hand on his shoulder which gives him a little shock as he wasn't expecting you.
"Mark, what's wrong?" You ask and then notice that he was holding the album that had all your wedding pictures in his hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. I just couldn't sleep and our wedding anniversary is in a few weeks and I don't know, I just wanted to look at you in your wedding dress again." He wipes his tears away before he leans his head on your shoulder.
You try to comfort him by rubbing your hand up and down the length of his arm. "Aw baby, it's ok you didn't wake me up but why is this making you cry?"
"I don't know. It's just- before I met you I really never thought that I could have ever seen myself getting married. I used to be so confused and uncertain about the future but then I met you and... it was like everything all of sudden made sense. and then on our wedding day, when I saw you walking down the aisle in your dress, I just knew. I like just knew that I'm right where I'm supposed to be. and that all my steps, mistakes, and decisions led me to you and how thankful I am that everything led me to you y/n."
"Markkk" You say, now starting to tear up along with him. He pulls you in a hug, not trying to hide his tears any longer. "I don't even know what to say but I love you so so so much."
You two stay like that together for a while, just wanting to enjoy each other's presence during the sweet moment. However, once you feel your eyelids start to grow heavy, you know Mark must be getting tired as well. "Let's go back to bed, ok?"
Mark yawns as he nods, showing just how sleepy he is. "Do you mind doing the back thing with your nails so I can go to sleep?"
"Of course." You say, kissing him on his temple. You both head back to bed, Mark in front of you, but then something prompts you to look back. You see the photo album and the mess of tissues on the floor, but when you look closer, you see a slight smudge on the protective cover of a photo of you. You wipe it gently away and you immediately know the feel of it. It was chapstick, meaning Mark must have kissed your picture.
Your heart completely melts at the thought as you set the photo album down and head to bed, knowing that you need to give him extra cuddles tonight for being so sweet and cute.
#mark lee#nct#nct 127#fluff#k-pop#drabble#imagine#nct dream#nct scenarios#fanfiction#fanfic#mark lee x y/n#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#established relationship
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i cannot get rick and daryl using the reader for stress relief off my mind for the life of me! it’d be so perfect knowing you were the one easing their worries and taking their minds off of the deplorable shit going on around yall. your days would be full of the typical apocalyptic drama but at night, you’d all just melt into each other
18+ mdni
Both of them were beyond stressed and busy with everything going on with Alexandria and the group.
All day they would be gone but the second they got home and into bed with you, their shoulders untensed and their frowns were replaced with smirks.
You were so good at it— taking away their worries and getting them to relax. All it took was that smile on your face and doe eyes looking up at them.
You never took it to heart when they returned home after a long day and snapped at you. You knew their words weren’t said to intentionally upset you, so you gratefully accepted their apologies that came with a little more than just a ‘sorry’. It usually ended up with one of them beneath you and one of them on top. You knew exactly what to do to get them to ease up.
So when the front door slammed shut and their heavy footsteps filled the house, you tipped-toed down the staircase, bare feet padding across the wood, wearing just one of their shirts and a pair of cotton panties, you greeted them with an innocent smile. Stepping up onto your tippy-toes to give both of them a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi!” You beamed, happy to finally be in their presence.
The frowns on their faces only slightly faltered, “Hi, sweetheart.” Rick replied, toeing off his boots and placing a hand on your shoulder for a brief second before walking past you.
Daryl kissed the top of your head and followed after Rick. You stood there dumbfounded that they had brushed past you and barely paid you any mind.
You bit your lip, eyes glossing over, spinning to face them where they stood at the kitchen counter, gripping the sides and debating what they should do about the next inevitable problem that would occur.
“Everything okay?” You innocently question, moving to stand beside them once again.
“We’re good, baby. Why don’t you go on upstairs? We’ll be up in a moment.” Rick gestured a hand towards the staircase.
You immediately complied, eager to please, so you patted up the steps and headed into your shared bedroom. Laying down on the soft sheets and waiting for your boys to join you.
It was a while before they finally came up, both of them entering the room. Daryl sat on the edge of the bed and Rick stood by the dresser one hand on his belt.
“What’s wrong?” You sat up from your position, eyeing both men.
“Nothing you can’t fix,” Daryl replied, running his hand up your bare thigh.
You knew what they wanted. You. And before you knew it, they had you exactly how they wanted.
A cock down your throat and a cock in your cunt. Taking both of them so well, as they had praised.
You moaned around the girth of Rick’s length, doing your best to take as much of him as you could, the man above you ignoring the gags you let out as he pushed your head further.
Daryl’s beyond torturous pace from behind you had your knees going wobbly, barely able to keep yourself upright.
“Shit, girl. Doing so well.” The redneck smirked, squeezing the fat of your ass and then slapping it, no doubt leaving a hand-shaped print on your asscheek.
You moaned around Rick, pushing your hips back into Daryl’s pelvis.
Finally pulling away from Rick’s cock, a string of spit still connecting you to him. “Oh my god, oh my god.”
You whined, unable to keep yourself stable and instead collapsing into the comfort of the bedsheets. That didn’t stop Daryl, he kept up his rough pace.
All night, the two of them took turns. And by morning you were sore and exhausted, but your boys were there to take care of you.
#rick grimes#daryl dixon#rick grimes x reader#rickyl x reader#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead#twd x reader#rick grimes smut#rickgrimes#rick grimes imagine#rick x reader
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(un)mentionables — fem!reader x satoru gojo
notes: real talk. i used to have this really cute light blue lingerie set and that was the inspo + aleks talking about gojo's massive dick ripping through lacy panties. that doesn't happen here, though, sorry lmaoo. uh. don't know what else to say. this is part of the infinite loop ficverse.
wc: 1.3k
contains: fem!reader (no pronouns or gendered language), suggestive situations but not anything explicit, pre-relationship (one day i'll write this established relationship fic for these idiots but not today)
You think you might as well be dead.
Ultimately, you have no one to blame but yourself for this; you should have known better than to let Gojo grab the spare water bottle from your overnight bag. In fact, you should have known better than to let him anywhere near your overnight bag. It’s not that you think him the type to just go rifling through your things without an ounce of respect for your privacy; it’s just that you know that Gojo has a knack for putting you in mortifying situations as if he’s being paid to.
“Well, well, well, what’s this?”
You whip your head around so violently that you feel a pulse of pain throughout your skull, but it is quickly forgotten when you see what this is. Gojo has certainly found the water bottle you’d offered him, but, somehow, looped around the bottle’s neck is a pair of lacy, sky blue panties that you’d haphazardly thrown into your overnight bag.
There’s little that you’d like more than passing away right here on the spot.
Gojo gingerly plucks your underwear from the bottle and shoots you a roguish grin, his eyebrows lifting suggestively. “Didn’t think you were the type to wear lace.”
You scowl and march over to him, hand whipping out to snatch your panties back from him. Surprisingly, he lets you, and you ball them up tightly in your fist. “You’re right, I prefer cotton.”
“Then where did those come from?” Gojo points at the bright blue fabric peeking through your fingers.
“How is that any of your business?” you snap.
“Just curious,” Gojo says nonchalantly. He’s still smiling though, and it annoys you.
“Curiosity killed the cat.” You roll your eyes as you toss the panties back in your bag behind him.
“And satisfaction brought it back,” Gojo finishes the entire idiom. Of course he’d know the last half of it. “Since you’re saying that, does that mean you’re going to tell me?”
Your eye twitches as you weigh your options. Refusing is the most obvious and natural option, but Gojo is nothing if not persistent. He won’t shut up if he really wants to know that badly. You don’t know why he would, but then again, he probably just would pester you for the sake of being annoying. Sometimes, it’s easier to just give him what he wants so you can move on. So that’s what you decide to do, looking away as you admit, “...it had a matching bra that was really cute.”
Gojo is silent. Unnaturally so. You would have expected him to fire off some wise ass quip, so this response, or lack of, is actually a little unnerving. Starting to feel a touch concerned, you look at Gojo, and though you cannot see the focus of his gaze with that blindfold in the way, you can just tell that he’s staring at you.
You’re not sure if you should feel proud over the fact that you’ve rendered the famous motor mouth Satoru Gojo speechless.
It’s over in an instant though, as his mouth moves to finally speak.
“Show me.”
His voice is low, quiet, as if he’d breathed out the words without even realizing it.
A strange feeling runs straight down the length of your spine, leaving you breathless, the staccato rhythm of your heartbeat almost deafening you. That was unexpected; his words, his tone, all of it.
You gawk at Gojo, trying to figure what to make of it, and he is still in a way that he never is. His lips are slightly parted, and you have no doubt that he is still staring at you, but you cannot even begin to imagine the shade of his eyes right now. Is it the bright shining aquamarine of the sky? Or the dark glimmering sapphire of the sea?
You don’t know. You don’t know. You want to though; you want to know. You want to rip that blindfold off to find out. You want to memorize every shade and every hue. You want to—
When you realize where your train of thought is heading you shake your head, senses returning to you with a start. You don’t know how two words managed to hijack your thoughts like that, but you will have none of it. Back on track, you demand, “Why the hell would I show you?”
Gojo’s lips curve upwards into a familiar grin, and you’re secretly relieved that he seems to be back to normal too. “Feelin’ shy? We’re both adults here.”
You know what he’s doing, but you’re not playing that game. There’s a lot of things Satoru Gojo can goad you into, but this is not and will not be one of them. “That’s beside the point.”
“Thought you said it was cute,” Gojo says, not giving up.
“Oh, trust me, it is,” you respond. “But I’m not showing you.”
“Why not?”
“I— Gojo, you can’t seriously be asking me this,” you groan.
“I’ve seen you in a swimsuit before,” Gojo points out matter-of-factly. “Is there really a difference between that and lingerie?”
His question gives you pause. Technically, you see his point. Technically. But he’s not quite right. “You are not someone I would be showing my lingerie off to. We are not like that.”
“Meaning you showed it to that loser ex-boyfriend of yours?” Gojo asks flatly.
You actually bought the set after you broke up, but Gojo doesn’t know that. “And if I did?”
(Annoyance, white hot and all consuming eats a hole in Satoru's stomach. He doesn't get why he's so mad. It makes sense. It makes sense.
You'd dated that lame excuse of an assistant manager for nearly a year, so it would make sense if he'd seen you—
Splayed beneath him. Disheveled. Exposed. Sky blue lace hugging your hips. A soft smile playing at your parted lips, kiss swollen and hungry for more, begging for more.
God, Satoru wishes he—
His entire body feels hot. Satoru's not sure if it's the rage or something else.)
"You and him aren't like that anymore, so I don't see the problem," Gojo says with a shrug.
If you could kill Satoru Gojo you would do so in a heartbeat. "Gojo, don't be ridiculous."
"Can't help it; it's my speciality," he says, cheekily sticking his tongue out. He tilts his head to the side, and though you can’t see directly, you can just imagine the expectant look in his eyes.
"I’m not showing you.”
Gojo pouts. If he thinks that’s going to convince you, he may as well quit his job as a jujutsu sorcerer and start a career as a stand-up comedian. “Do you really think it’s fair to let dumb losers see the supposedly cute lingerie when super cool and strong sorcerers like me get left in the dark?”
“Life’s not fair,” you dead pan at Gojo. Though it’s not like someone like him would really get that. “And he’s not a loser, you are.”
“Oh, so does that mean you’ll let me see?”
“I—” You start before grumbling. This is getting nowhere. At this rate the both of you will be bickering back and forth until the end of the night and you, for one, would like to have dinner (not with Gojo). “You know what, fine. I’ll show you, but if and only if, we run across some freaky-ass curse that melts clothes.”
You think your proposition is impossible. In fact, you're sure of it. So much so, that you think Gojo will call you out on it.
But he doesn't.
Instead, he grins with eager childlike excitement. "Really? You serious?"
You don't get his reaction. He does know that the chances of that happening are basically one in a bazillion, right? But then again, Gojo is a complete weirdo so you don't question it. Shrugging, you answer. "Yeah, sure."
Finding said freaky-ass curse that melts away just clothes sounds damn near impossible, so you don't see the harm in agreeing. There's basically no way you'll run into one, meaning no way you'll be giving Gojo an eyeful of your cute lacy sky blue lingerie.
You find out that Satoru Gojo must be the luckiest bastard on the face of the planet, because you end up eating your words two weeks later.
gojo why are you so pathetic lmao.
#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x reader#nikuniku fics#infinite loop!verse#idk what else to say#in case anyone was wondering#the bra in question was a lacy racerback bra#actually he shouldn't be let near that#bitch is gonna break the front clasp omfg
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Hand(s) Off | Ch 2: Ecstasy
(Steve Rogers/f!Reader sex pollen-esque multichapter)
STORY MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT
Summary: Steve's loved hearing about you from Bucky. He doesn't want anything to derail the progress his best friend has made toward being a whole person again, which is why he's going to use every ounce of his slowly-deteriorating willpower to resist touching you, tasting you, taking you. After all, he's just met you, and his own integrity, not to mention Bucky's trust, is important to him.
Neither of you are prepared for the catch.
Length | Warnings: 2,841 | Explicit sexual situations (they don't succeed in resisting, folks), MINORS DNI
Note: I want to make clear that I’m treating the issues of consent with sensitivity, as you'll hopefully see in this chapter!
Fill: Adoptable 'Pheremones’ from @allcapsbingo
Tags (please request!): @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan
Excerpt:
“I’m-- wow, this is intense,” you say next.
There’s a little cry to the last word. You are clearly affected by Mistress too, and Steve feels both grateful and guilty about how relieved he is about that. This is a moral catastrophe, but you’re in this mess together, sort of. Anything less and Bucky would demand the right to kick his ass.
Hell, he probably still will.
“Take--” He stops himself. “Why don’t you take it off?”
“Nice catch,” you praise, leading him to buck his hips up. “Only if you take your shorts off, too. Fair’s fair.”
“Nothing about this is fair,” he growls out, getting up. Steve takes everything off because, fuck yes, access is what he needs right now. It’s a testament to how ruled he is by the drug in his system that it doesn’t even feel wrong to be wearing just a shirt in the room with you.
Ecstasy
Steve had known about you for a while now. He had been picturing you as a gorgeous pin-up, a dream woman, someone who could bridge the gap between 1940’s Bucky and the shadowed self his best friend had become. With everything Bucky’s told him about you, that impression had been reinforced.
Now he’s looking at you, your eyes wide, body a shapeless mass under the blanket, and he can’t help but wonder what you’ve heard from Bucky’s stories, from the footage of the attack on New York, from interviews since. Do you think he stands for integrity, kindness, justice? Can any of that possibly survive the unbearable need he’s feeling right now?
“I’m going to cover my face with this blanket, okay? Two layers of it.” You do that, waving a hand in front of your own face to check that it’s fully opaque. “You came here to change out of those wet clothes, don’t let me stop you!” You’re right, but Steve simply cannot picture that. Not with you in the room. “I tell you what: I’ll-- I’ll hum one of the songs I’ve been practicing for this weekend’s set, okay? That way I won’t be able to hear you.”
You’d said ‘hum,’ but the sultry notes resonating from under your blanket shouldn’t be described that way. Steve wrestles himself out of the soaked button-down and undershirt and chooses a white tank top for comfort. His temperature has to be in actual fever territory, and without any… relief, that’s hardly going to change.
When he unzips his pants, the humming gets louder, and Steve can’t help it, he rubs himself with the heel of his hand. He wonders if you’re sitting under that blanket with your eyes shut, picturing him undressing. Recognizing his own lowered inhibitions, he hurries up, stripping down completely in favor of getting every ounce of the drug away from body contact.
He’s pulling on a pair of shorts when you stop.
“Oh, I wanted to say, Cap--”
“Use ‘Steve,’” he says quickly. “I don’t want memories of--”
“Oh, God, you’re right. Sorry,” you groan in interruption.
It takes all his self-discipline not to respond to the need in that groan, squeezing his wet clothes so tightly they drip onto the carpet. You can’t see him, so you’re already continuing.
“I was going to say, you should bury those clothes in the hamper or a drawer or something, because I’m, uh, getting the equivalent of secondhand smoke, here.”
Steve distracts himself from that worrisome development by burying the clothes in his basket as if it were a mission. When he turns around, you’re standing, the blanket draped around you like a shield.
“Is this stuff dangerous at your dose? Should we break you out of here?” you ask, eyes wide.
“Breaking out would kill you.” He’d thought of that already. “The next level of security is enough nerve gas to incapacitate a super soldier. Today’s testing was to find out what’s safe.”
“At least they’ll get some data,” you muse. “Fuck, this blanket is getting hot-- I have an idea of how to survive this, but in case that fails, I’m sure Bucky already told you about my fifteen-minute adoring rave about your ass?”
He cannot fathom why you would say that. “Uh…”
“Never mind,” you say, wiping sweat off of your chin with the back of a hand. It looks like you’re right about being affected by the drug; Banner had said it was capable of being aerosolized. “So, we’re trapped here, yes?”
“Yes, but I have no intentions of touching you,” Steve says, using his Command voice, as much as he hates the cross-contamination. To his surprise, your eyes grow fierce.
“Well, I have no intentions of being the bitch so unappealing that Captain America would rather die than touch her with Mistress in his system, so why don’t you hear me out?”
Stunned and slightly impressed, Steve puts his hands up. “I didn’t think of that. Go on.”
You pull the blanket closer around yourself. You’d said you were too hot, so this is vulnerability, and it makes him feel protective. That’s some cross-contamination too, but it can’t be helped.
“Okay, if we’re not touching each other then we’ll have to touch ourselves, and we’re in this tiny room.” You walk over to the bed and point to the floor on either side of it, saying, “I suggest we each pick a side, flip the light off, and talk each other through it. It’ll be less intimate without the visuals, and maybe we can each pretend it’s a phone conversation on speaker?”
“With the bed as a natural barrier?”
“Yeah.”
Steve can already picture you seated on that blanket on the floor, head thrown back against the mattress, hands moving out of sight. It’s a compelling image. He clenches his jaw, pulling in too much air to give himself a different discomfort to distract himself with.
“Good thought. You stay on the door side. I’ll head over to the other side and stay there.”
“I don’t think you want to ‘soldier’ this, Steve,” you say, your voice softening to a whisper on his name like you have to force yourself to say it.
“Not sure I can stop,” Steve admits, propelling himself over to the wall on ‘his side.’ “Better get the light. This is…” he stops, needing to slow his breathing. All he can see when he closes his eyes is you slowly pulling the fabric of your dress up--
The light clicks off, plunging the room in darkness.
“Wow. I was expecting the darkness to feel comforting, but…” you say.
“Just sit down, shut your eyes,” Steve says-- and it’s all wrong. His voice is harsh, almost annoyed. He is annoyed. He should be better than this, but… “I’m sorry,” he says aloud. He’s apologizing to himself as much as to you.
“Me too,” you whisper, adding a little grateful noise that has Steve setting his forehead on the back wall. “Besides being very glad I can drop that blanket, I have no idea what I’m doing. Do we talk about ourselves? Each other?”
The taboo of the situation combined with the desire running through Steve’s body like wildfire weakens him to a kneel. This is the best outcome of a terrible situation, he tries to tell himself, but it doesn’t feel like that. Not with the prospect of that sultry tone of yours talking him through it.
“Steve?” You sound worried, alone.
“I’m here,” Steve hurries to say. “Got… distracted. Tell me what you’re doing, what you’re feeling? I still have to work on the command tone thing.” He moves to slump back against the side of the bed.
“You realize you’re still taking charge by not taking charge, yeah?” you say, more confident now, thank God.
“Would it help if you pretend we’ll die if one of us stops talking?”
“Spoken like a true Avenger,” you laugh. It’s throaty, affected, and Steve rests his hand on his lap, presses down. Yes. “Okay, I’m burning up. Inside and out. Even with short sleeves and a skirt.”
Steve makes a ‘Mmm’ noise without even meaning to, his palm rocking against his crotch.
“I’m-- wow, this is intense,” you say next.
There’s a little cry to the last word. You are clearly affected by Mistress too, and Steve feels both grateful and guilty about how relieved he is about that. This is a moral catastrophe, but you’re in this mess together, sort of. Anything less and Bucky would demand the right to kick his ass.
Hell, he probably still will.
“Take--” He stops himself. “Why don’t you take it off?”
“Nice catch,” you praise, leading him to buck his hips up. “Only if you take your shorts off, too. Fair’s fair.”
“Nothing about this is fair,” he growls out, getting up. Steve takes his underwear off too because, fuck yes, access is what he needs right now. It’s a testament to how ruled he is by the drug in his system that it doesn’t even feel wrong to be wearing just a shirt in the room with you. With some of the last logical coherence he has left, he grabs a tube of lube out of his bedside drawer.
There are condoms there too, but he won’t be needing them.
“No touching yet!” you call out, right as Steve slides a slick fist along his own length. It feels like the first time he’s ever done it right.
“Who’s giving the orders?”
“You don’t want to leave me behind, do you?”
“I don’t, I promise,” Steve groans.
He collapses onto his knees at the bed, practically praying for release. The mattress shakes, and he can see the whole scene in his mind; you’re scrambling to pull the dress off over your head. He almost doesn’t recognize himself in his own thoughts, but that doesn’t stop them. Do your bra or panties have any lace? What color are they?
“What color?” he rasps aloud, before he can stop himself. Despite what you said, his hand falls back to his cock, gripping but not moving. Even that is intensely pleasurable, but it’s the best he can do.
“Are you asking about what I took off or what I’m still wearing?” you ask.
Playful. Steve’s lost. He’s lost, because you sound joyful despite the situation. This is working, your plan, but he can’t help but feel like he’s trespassing. He should know so much more about you before getting to talk about your underclothes. That thought spirals, predictably, to the kinds of things women used to wear in his own time: hidden garter ribbons, the proliferation of skirts, the--
“Steve, if you’re going to ask questions like that, you ought to listen to the answers. It’s only polite.”
“You answered?”
“I described them. What were you doing?”
His hips jerk forward into his waiting fist, and it’s so sweet and hot and not enough that Steve gasps. “I think you know.”
“God, your voice is rough right now, do you know that?” you ask in a voice that’s rough too. “I’m sliding down the straps of my black lace bra so they pull on my arms.”
“Where are your hands?” One of his is moving slowly, deliberately.
“I’m--” The bedframe shakes slightly, and when you speak again, your voice is muffled like you’d thrown yourself face-first onto the bed. “I’m in flames, but it just hit me where I am and who you are!”
It strikes him that no woman will ever forget who he is ever again, not even in the throes of a mind-altering chemical.
“I’m just a guy, Dee,” he says, turning to sit on the floor again. “I always was. Just a guy who wants to help, to do good.” He’s not doing good right now, saying these kinds of things to someone he cannot drive away from Bucky, but those qualms are fuzzy and indistinct.
“I think I need you to talk now.”
Most of what leaps to mind is filthy, for all that his thoughts move as slow as molasses. “If you slide your hand inside your panties and cup yourself, will both sides of your hand be wet?”
“Fuck, what a question!” Your low groan makes him really want to taste its resonance on the outside of your throat. The mattress moves slightly, just enough to signal to Steve that you’re reaching down. “Y-yes.”
His own hand is moving faster, twisting, the heat of the drug in his system setting fire to every inhibition and replacing the ash with pleasure. “How do you like to be touched?” he manages to ask.
The words hang between the two of you for awhile. Finally, you tell him, using a breathy moan that makes clear that you’re acting out the actions as you speak. His orgasm strikes not long after, and Steve doubles over with the force of it, vocalizing in ways he usually never allows himself to do.
“I loved listening to that.” Your voice has a whine to it, a desperation he totally recognizes.
“It’s your turn,” he says, reaching over and grabbing his pillow to remove the case and wipe himself off with it.
“It smells like-- fuck, that’s so intimate, I--”
“I wish I could smell you,” Steve blurts out, feeling himself harden again. He’d expected that, maybe not quite so quickly, but he's a super soldier overdosing on Mistress.
You let out a gasp, and he leans back against the mattress to feel that it’s shaking, shaking with the rhythmic movements of your arm. You’re right, this is almost unbearably intimate, but right now that’s the best thing ever, with all the possible objections lost behind a haze of hot desire and the smell of sex.
Steve shifts so he’s kneeling at the bed again, his chest and one arm anchored to the mattress so he can enjoy the sensations as you stimulate yourself. “I can feel you move,” he says lowly-- and that’s it, he can hear the change in your breathing.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh,” you wail, the sound changing as you close your lips on the sound to change it to a ‘Mmmm.’
It’s almost enough to send Steve over again, but he’s greedy for every hitched gasp, every translated shove against the bed as you rock through it. Something tells him that reminding you he’s here will make you self conscious, so though each noise burns from his ears all the way across his body, he suppresses the need to vocalize his own resulting pleasure-pain.
Your next words take the edge off.
“You have to be kidding me!” you snap, sounding frustrated. “That felt great, don’t get me wrong, but there’s no relief! I am still using every single brain cell not to climb you like a tree.”
Steve unabashedly humps against the mattress a bit, at that.
“Yeah, see? You know what I’m going through,” you grumble.
“I never expected camaraderie,” Steve coughs out on a laugh. The levity lifts the musky pall of desperate need, but only for a moment. “I have no idea how long this will--”
“I figured,” you whisper. “That AI, does it have --ahh, I am just so warm and so, god, hang on-- night vision?”
It takes an annoyingly long time for Steve to figure out what you’re asking. “I don’t think so. It monitors everyone, so if one of us gets so hot we need medical attention--”
“Excuse me, but you’ve been that hot since the 40’s!” you interrupt, adding, “You mean you don’t have an override that comes with your rank, or…”
It’s absurd, the way he’s jacking himself off and holding a conversation. “I, ah, turned it off. In case I asked for something inappropriate while my thinking was impaired.”
You sound affectionately amused as you say, “Oh no! Steve, your thinking was already impaired!”
“Yeah, I’m seeing that now.”
“Oh.”
This new tone of yours goes straight to his cock, and Steve just leans over and thrusts into his hand a few times, the ecstasy from each squeeze washing over him in waves. It seems even better than before, but somehow not painfully so.
He recovers enough coherence to say, “What is it?”
“This is-- oh. We might have some data for your other Avengers, here.”
“It’s better now, isn’t it?” Steve pants out.
“Yes!”
Your voice throbs with approval, and he throws out his free hand, grabbing at the sheet to hold on as another orgasm rocks through him.
“Wow, did that send you over?” you ask, sounding impressed.
“It’s dark, but I still see fireworks,” he jokes, immediately wishing he his need-fuzzed brain hadn’t chosen that word. The number of ‘Captain America’ fireworks jokes he’s heard over the past year…
“You know the way to a woman’s ego, telling her you’re seeing stars and she hasn’t even touched you!” you say in an affected, sultry tone. “That’s, god, I’m such a mess. That’s my ‘lounge singer’ voice after I’ve had a few drinks. Don’t get to use it much.”
“So both of us have a not-so-secret identity?”
The bed shakes, presumably with your laughter, and that both sharpens and magnifies Steve’s arousal in the oddest way, more similar to the beginning, when he’d wanted to protect you as much as he’d wanted to touch.
“I hope you don’t mind, but my back is killing me,” you say. Steve doesn’t understand what you mean until your bare leg sweeps across his outstretched arm.
Immediately, instinctively, he clasps it, and both of you suck in a breath. The all-consuming pleasure he’d felt touching himself was nothing compared to this. Before he can realize what he’s doing, what it means, Steve’s climbing up onto the bed, following the contour of your naked leg up as he goes.
“ Steve,” you groan out, and the hint of hesitation in your voice fists his hand against your hip.
“Do you want me to stop?” he forces out through clenched teeth.
“Absolutely not,” you moan, your hand finding his and tugging.
Next chapter...
#allcapsbingo2023#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#captain america x reader#captain america smut#captain america x f!reader#steve rogers x f!reader#captain america x you#marvel fanfiction#marvel smut#mcu smut#mcu fanfiction#sex pollen#humor#romance
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I'm sorry but I can't believe sex in ep6 even topic of discussion.
1)Why would they go to such lengths and spend their time and resources on making floaty sex, if it didn't mean anything and didn't serve any purpose? What purpose did it serve? Well, the first and last time we also saw floaty sex in ep1 and it was clear representation of connection and pleasure that sends you flying to Saturn and back. So, logically, ep6 sex too supposed to show connection and pleasure.
2) Next point (i'm not sure about this one tbh): perhaps there's one more parallel to ep1 scene - Louis "didn't consider himself a homosexual at that time" and we see cut to him having enthusiastic sex. In ep6 he was telling Daniel about being numb and we have cut to him PARTICIPATING in sex and not just lying there like a corpse.
3) They literally included Lestat stopping and checking on Louis and not doing anything before Louis kissed him. He noticed that Louis wasn't mentally there and stopped. Clear indication that Lestat wanted CONSENSUAL sex, if he truly didn't care he would just proceed to fuck Louis because Louis wasn't stopping him.
4) Give Louis a little agency, would you?(general you, not you, Nalyra) As I said, we didn't have any indication that Louis wad pressured into it, that lestat didn't care about Louis' consent and pleasure. Just because you're depressed doesn't mean you're incapable of making decisions. Louis' kiss was him reassuring lestat that he's here with him. He KNEW that lestat needed reassurance to proceed. Lestat can't read Louis' mind, he can't be 100% if Louis wants it or not, so he has to rely on what Louis TELLS him with words and body language. Louis told lestat with his actions that he wants him to proceed. That's Louis' decision, like it or not
5) I know fandom likes to act like Claudia is mentally 14 forever, but for majority of story she's grown woman. I'm actually not sure if she truly thinks Louis wouldn't mind her being in his head while they're having sex or she's actively disregarding his boundaries (that he didn't establish) but there's fact: it's weird. Maybe she thinks she's helping Louis to "cope" with sex because she's projecting her trauma with Bruce on Loustat (which is understandable!) but for me Louis' sounds uncomfortable, and resigned, half-heartedly trying to deflect Claudia. "Anywhere sounds like nowhere" - for me it was clear that he doesn't really want to leave and doesn't want to have this conversation but he fails to say it outright and shut down Claudia. So he just makes up excuses not to leave, avoids telling NO, and blocks his mind when Lestat notices that something is wrong.
So, my point, that cut from Bruce to Lestat was Claudia's mind coming to comparison. She thinks Louis does it to appease lestat, she's probably tries to help telling Louis about her escape plan, she views Louis' reluctants as fear of Lestat and that's it, when probably main reason is Louis simply not wanting to leave.
I'm so sorry for long essay, hope you don't mind! Love your work and blog:)
:) Glad you like.
And yeah... I cannot believe we're at this point again/still either.
Exactly. This is a deliberate thing, a deliberate connection to the best sex Louis had. As said before, it carries meaning.
Well, I mean, there are a lot more instances of Louis saying something and the show showing us something else. Or vice versa. That is... exactly the point. Louis is telling the tale for an effect. And that effect was to lead to the justified "murder night". But the why will be part of season 2.
I know
Louis is (not just) depressed because of Lestat. He is deep in the rite of passage. He addresses that on the bench. And yeah.. for some reason Louis' never gets his agency in these discussions. Because he could have moved away. He could have left. But he did not want to. He stayed right there, in Rue Royale during those 6 years (for example). Where Lestat could find him. But I digress. Louis does have agency, indeed. And it is often dismissed for some reason -.-
Claudia's thinking is very black and white, pun not intended. It's stark contrast. She hates and loves with the full power of puberty, at all times, no matter her mental age. Her hatred for Lestat colors her perception of Louis' love for him - she just cannot imagine Louis loving him. Oh she understands it. But to her Lestat is like Bruce, the worst of the worst, and she cannot fathom that there are actually vampires out there... who are much, much worse. That is part of the horror, that she just cannot... imagine, because ultimately Lestat and Louis raised her as a child and then a loved family member - not as a coven member. She has no point of reference, unfortunately.
And no, Louis neither wants to have that conversation (but he is too nice to shut it down), nor does he want to leave. And that just... flies right over her head.
Neither Claudia nor Louis actually fear Lestat, and definitely not even after the fight. The car scene made that quite clear, imho.
Oh, they are angry at him, and justified in that anger. But fear? Nope.
#Anonymous#asks#ask nalyra#amc iwtv#iwtv#amc interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire amc#iwtv amc#iwtv 2022#interview with the vampire#lestat de lioncourt#louis de pointe du lac#loustat#iwtv claudia#claudia de lioncourt#episode 6#floaty sex
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Hello,
Is there any way you could translate Samatoki's newest solo, Rinka/Blue Flame? I've been looking for a translation everywhere, but cannot seem to find one.
Best regards and thank you very much.
Oh my God I am desperate slug-san, please please pleaaasee tell me you know where to find a translation of Samatoki's Rinka/Blue Flame!! OTL I was so surprised a translator wasn't already linked in the wiki which is where I usually look first & then I couldn't find anything by searching on twitter or google or tumblr and I just really wanna know what his song is about!! T°T I can't believe I found a translation of Honobono's song but not of Samatoki's song?? I must be doing sth wrong.. Help :')
Hey slug-san! A follow-up of the Rinka/Blue Flame message. I've searched some more, and I think there's actually no translation of it so far anywhere.. T~T Would you be willing to translate it? A standard/literal translation with a lil clean-up like you did with Akuma no Hana would be totally alright!! Thank you so much for giving us the opportunity to engage with Hypmic in a way the official creators haven't made possible yet! :D <3
Sure. Under a cut for length.
I'm running at a speed faster than grief,
going so fast I leave even the smallest bad feelings behind me.
I spit on my dead-end future,
spit in the dirty puddles.
Now I'm clinging to the guardrail,
tears tracing scribbled lines down my cheeks.
I bet it looks pretty comical. C'mon, laugh at me, why don't you?
Let's start somewhere around the unhappy ending.
Why not? Works for me.
The clear, blue sky waits for sunset;
but to hell with that. I don't need that crap!
Let's do whatever we damn well please,
here in this vacant city.
Just the thought of them
makes me light up a cigarette.
Look, I don't wanna tell people we gotta fight each other to get what we want.
I just think we have to, because there's things out there that're worth keeping safe.
There's a stray dog baying at the rain streaking down the glass,
and that SOB won't shut up.
Hey, fuck your umbrella. Who needs that kinda crap?
Throw it away and let the rain drench you too.
The beat's entrenched in my soul,
a stupid requiem for
this unfair world we live in,
lying on its sickbed. C'mon, get in there and pay your respects to it.
You don't have the time to sit around feeling sorry for yourself.
You know lashing out's the answer, right?
You'll be okay. And I'm not gonna tell you you're running from your responsibilities.
So c'mon. Quit your sniveling and come ride with me.
The brakes don't work; those emotions never get any slower.
And we're burning ourselves out, but don't let that stop you from coming along with me for the ride.
Ride with me through thick and thin. Ride with me all the way to the grave.
A few final notes:
Sunset is a metaphor for melancholy. When Samatoki rejects that in the third verse, he's rejecting sitting through his feelings of loss. He uses this image again later in the line I wrote as "sit around feeling sorry for yourself."
The gender and plurality of the "them" Samatoki thinks about isn't specified. While it's most likely referring to his family, the verse immediately afterward sounds like a direct reference to Ichirou and Samatoki battling to save their siblings in the TDD breakup.
"We're burning ourselves out" could also be written like "We're burning ourselves down to ash" which connects with the cigarette image.
Given the prevalence of stray dogs in hardboiled/yakuza fiction and their recurrence as an image in Samatoki's other raps, the stray dog should be understood to be Samatoki himself.
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I just dontated to the PCRF! For a mattfoggy prompt, what about, in college, matt sitting in foggy's lap just becoming A Thing That Keeps Happening that started as a circumstantial thing but it just. never /stopped/ happening. And eventually they kiss about it.
matt being just an absolute goddamn mess has been my favorite thing to write lately so this was a lovely opportunity!! thank you <3
(also, if you donate any amount to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund or a similar organization of your choice, you can also get a guaranteed matt/foggy ficlet of an undetermined length. just send me an ask.)
“We cannot afford a cab,” Foggy says, leaning out of the questionable car belonging to Marci’s friend that is already full of more college students than should legally be in it, “and we are both drunk enough that there is a non zero chance that somebody is going to fall in front of a train. Just sit on my lap—you’re too pretty to wander around the streets alone.”
Matt sighs before climbing into the car, slumping down so he can settle awkwardly on Foggy’s lap, shutting the door behind him.
“This is undignified,” he says.
“Dignity’s overrated,” Foggy says, wrapping his arms around Matt’s waist loosely, making a soft noise when Matt shifts and they both clearly internally reckon with the fact that he’s making significant contact with part of Foggy that he actively tries not to think about. Because it’s weird to think about your friend’s dick—and maybe just as weird to have to think so much about how he shouldn’t be thinking of it.
The car is full of drunk babbling so neither of them has to say anything—which is probably for the best.
What’s there to say?
-
“Oh, shit,” Matt says, when he goes to sit next to Foggy on his bed but, in the midst of finals week delirium, ends up sitting directly on him. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Foggy says, after letting out a shocked laugh, arms going around Matt’s waist to steady him and immediately reminding Matt of that feeling from a few months ago—sitting on Foggy’s lap, Foggy’s arms around him, Foggy’s—his thoughts are interrupted when Foggy says, a little high-pitched, “Are you gonna maybe move, buddy?”
“Oh god,” Matt says, again, despairingly, climbing off of him and considering hiding under the bed. “Sorry! I normally have a better read on where you are, I’m just. . .”
“In clinical need of a nap?” Foggy asks.
“So tired,” Matt agrees.
“I’ll point out,” Foggy says, “that we are currently in a bed—where most naps take place.”
“That’s true,” Matt says, smiling. “Statistically.”
“C’mon, we’ve earned it,” Foggy says, gently touching Matt to guide him so they can lie next to each other, on their sides, touching in so many different little places that Matt can’t focus at all—until Foggy asks, softly, “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” Matt says, just as softly, smiling. “It’s good.”
If they wake up a little more tangled together and with Matt having a broadened awareness of what Foggy’s dick feels like when it’s pressed up against his ass, it’s fine. They were unconscious. It’s not like they wanted it.
—
Matt wants it.
Matt—Matt wants it.
Fuck.
—
After a series of lap related incidents, some unintentional, most incredibly contrived to the point where Matt almost gives up because Foggy has to actively be choosing not to say something, Foggy pulls Matt into his lap on his bed and gently grabs his hips.
“Do you have something you want to tell me, Matty?” he asks, voice a little lower than normal.
Matt’s eyes widen.
“Uhm,” he says.
“Use your words, please,” Foggy says.
“Okay, but what if I—I mean, instead, what if—fuck, Foggy,” Matt says, giving up on words and leaning down to kiss Foggy instead, soft at first then decidely not when Foggy hands move to squeeze his waist then down to his ass as they go from kissing to Matt dazedly thinking about everything else Foggy could do with his tongue as they frantically make out.
“Okay, the lap sitting,” Foggy says, when they break apart out of sheer need for oxygen. “Do you normally come onto people by literally throwing yourself at them?”
“Everything preceding the month of October was accidental,” Matt says, immediately.
“And what about the incidents following that?” Foggy asks, amused.
“. . .less accidental,” Matt admits.
“You just like being in my lap, buddy?” Foggy asks, stroking Matt’s hair.
Matt nods, a little too overwhelmed, but Foggy gets it immediately and takes Matt by the hips again to pull him slowly closer, making an encouraging noise when Matt shifts so his erection presses up against Foggy’s through too many layers of clothes. He rolls his hips. Foggy swears.
Matt’s fingers slide over the zipper on Foggy’s jeans and Foggy says, firmly, “Yes,” before Matt even has a chance to say please.
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All my attention
Part 8
warnings- SMUT!!- MDI you have been warned- dom/sub!switch kinda, swearing, smutty to fluffy
words- 2.8k
If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series
a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well, sorry this one is shorter than I'd like for it to be but I didn't want to go straight into the next storyline for the next part ♡
(hey guys I'm finally back! I'm so so sorry this has taken so fucking long but I've been beyond busy these past few days with school etc and I've had no time to even go on enjoy part 8 guys)
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backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?
Tom's eyes became stern, even from below me he still had all the control, his hands bunched my skirt up around my waist as he pulled me down to his lips "don't be cocky with me alright?" he spoke to my skin "especially if you want to walk tomorrow Y/n" my heart jumped in my chest, I started to grind myself over his hardening in his jeans, his eyes fluttering shut when I hit the right spots, I pulled away from his grasp standing from the bed and sliding my skirt off leaving myself in just my thong, Tom watched me like a hawk his eyes not leaving any part of my body for a second. I turned back to him, his one arm bent under his head as his free hand lay over his bare stomach, I stood over him, my hands running against his thighs stopping at the top of he jeans
"can I?" he looked taken back at me asking, I waited until he nodded his head and I unbuttoned the denim pulling them down his legs revealing his hard on pressing against his boxers, I threw his jeans somewhere in my room and climbed back onto of him, his arm moved to toy with my thong strap
"you forgot to take off these" he grinned letting the material snap to my skin, with that I pushed myself up standing on my knees and looking to him
"I'm waiting" Tom moved quickly, his hands going to my side and ripped the material in two "thank you" I grinned as I kissed his forehead
"your gorgeous" I smirked letting myself lean back onto his clothed cock, the tent looking bigger than before, I let my hand run over him seeing him quiver under it "Y/n- take them off.." my eyes darted to him "please" I nodded, coming of his lap and going between his legs, I pulled the material down his dick sprung free hitting below his bellybutton, my eyes widen at his size, I walked away to my bookshelf, a small noise leaving him as he realised I wasn't near him, I could feel him watching me as I reached into a small pot and opened the lid
"so extra-small?" I teased pulling out a condom from my stash
"hell yeah" he answered, eyes watching my tits as I came back to him, I straddled his hips but faced away from him, his fingers drew shapes along my spine making me shake involuntary, I looked down to his dick, it was god-like, I grabbed it away from his stomach and let my hand swipe down until it reached his base, a noise left Tom as I did it again "f-v..fuck" he hummed. I ripped open the packet and pulled the condom free, I held it against his tip feeling his body tense I began rolling it down his length until my hand hit his skin again. I turned around to face him again, his chest falling slowly "I had a great view" he smiled holding my face
"aren't these better?" I asked as I pressed a kiss to his hand that he placed to my jaw, he nodded, using his hand he hooked it around my neck pulling me to him pressing kisses in a line from my lips to my ear
"now let's put your pretty little pussy to work hm?" he cooed
I bit my lip nodding excitedly siting back so his cock was between my thighs, I rose up onto my knees lining my self up with him, I held him in my hand, his tip grazing my heat. Tom held me gently as I began to sit back down, he fully pushed in and I couldn't stop the words leaving my mouth "holy- fuck Tom" I groaned until I met with his base "ah shit" I breathed, head rolling back
"you're okay Y/n- you can take it can't you?" I nodded, relaxing to his new shape "good girl, talk to me"
"mmh, just-so big" I spoke finally looking back at Tom who's face was softer than before
"just tell me the your ready" I took a deep breath and finally rose on my knees once more, slowly falling again "thats it" he smiled, I found a small pace, rising and falling quicker than before Tom each time threatening to push deeper, his hands clasped to me helping my movement
"Ah! feels so good" I called as his tip brushed my g-spot making my body shudder "Tom right there" I felt him hold me in place tightly as his hips slammed to mine destroying the pace we had before, every time he hit my spot he made my voice turn to pieces "Yes yes yes! God Tom yes!"
"shit- good girl, like that Y/n...so fucking tight" Tom's voice was deep, I watched his lip tuck between his teeth as he pushed me closer and closer to my fall "fuck this" before I knew it he pulled out switching our positions, he towered over me, his arms caging my head in, my legs tangled around his hips as he pushed in again "ugh, fuck you feel so perfect Y/n" I hummed as the knot in my stomach threatened to snap
"deep-deeper please" I squealed, hearing a low chuckle leave the boys lips as he bottomed out, my ass hitting his thighs "FUCK!" I yelled, Tom moved his hand hands to push my legs over his shoulders, pulling me to the edge of my bed, his pace never stopped even when he came off the bed
"you close baby?" I nodded shutting my eyes tightly "no-no I need to see you pretty girl, let me fucking see you" I forced my eyes back open to meet his dark ones "you gonna cum? hum gonna cum Y/n- come on doll cum for me" with his few words I felt a feeling I'd never felt before, legs shaking, heart pounding and my fingers dug into my sheets
"HOLY FUCK TOM" I screamed in pure ecstasy, my world turning blank and every sense in my body heightened all I could think about was the feeling of Tom inside my heat. I fell from my high seeing Tom pulling out and spread my thighs so he could reach my face
"you did so well baby- breathe you're okay alright" I breathed out agreeing with his words, his hand reach to my jaw and he pulled me softly toward him and he pressed kissed to every inch of my face
"that..that was the most I think I've ever came- fucking hell" I panted Tom's face turned proud as he pushed his forehead against mine "did you?" I motioned to his still hard cock and I already knew my answer- "sit on the bed" I demanded standing myself up trying to ignore that I could barley feel my legs
"Y/n it's fine you don't need to-" I pushed Tom down, his arms propping himself up
"shut up alright- you wanna cum?" I asked seeing his smirk turn to a 'O' shape "words Tom"
"yes Y/n" I smiled going to my knees, I was just tall enough to reach his cock, my fingers stroked lines down from the tip to the base curling under the rubber and pulling It off "slowly" he breathed pulling back from the sensitivity, I took the condom and threw it the bin near me and turned my attention back to the burning red tip on Tom. I leaned up more between his thighs and let my face fall inches away from his member, my breath hitting his tip "please- I need you Y/n" he begged making my heart flutter, I came forward pressing a kiss to the red, gently I took his tip into my mouth being careful not to suck yet "ughh" he grumbled, my head got lower and lower until my nose pressed against his abdomen and I came back up letting it go with a 'pop'
"taste so good Tommy" it came out more as a moan and his already hooded eyes narrowed more and without any more thoughts I took him back in my mouth finding an quick pace, his tip pressing the back of my throat making me croak around him, my tongue swirling around his length, Tom's hands dug into the blanket below and I could tell he was holding back so in a smooth movement I grabbed his right hand and placed it to knot into my hair which he didn't hesitate to do, his fingers scrunching my hair into a mess on the top of my head
"god Y/n I'm so close already" his voice was a high pitched whine making a tingle roll down my spine "so good to me- so perfect- fuck I love you so much... shit" I nodded while letting his hand make the pace he wanted, he pushed me down roughly but I couldn't care less, his noises were music to my ears "good girl- fuck princess.... shit you make me feel so good- don't fucking sto-" his hips jerked up meeting with my pumps making him go deeper than before "Y/n I'm gonna cum- Y/n fuck Y/n Y/n Y/n" he chanted in a hoarse tone until "Y/n!" my name fell from his lips as strings of his cum shot into my mouth, I gave him one last lick before pulling off and standing over him as he finally came down form his high, his eyes reopened watching me, teary and lighter, I leaned closer to him, our faces close and I swallowed his load, circling my lips with my finger to get any remaining drops and I sucked them off myself "you are the hottest thing I've ever seen"
"thank you" I pressed my lips to his knowing he'd taste the reminiscence of himself on my tongue "I could say the same" his hands pulled me onto his body, sheen of sweat coating his muscles
"I'm telling you now-" his mouth pressed roughly against my ear, the coldness of his lip ring sending a wave of cool across my skin "your mine understand? nobody will ever fuck you as good as me- and nobody will touch you alright because your mine" I nodded hungrily diving back for his lips
"I'm yours"
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me and Tom lay in bed still, our bodies intertwined underneath the sheets, his small snores filled the room but I couldn't sleep after that, I was still full of adrenaline. slowly I pealed myself from his grasp and walked still naked to the bathroom turning on the shower and waiting for the water to warm, I looked into the mirror seeing my body for the first time, small bruises pressed into my hips and a hicky under my ear, my hair was still messed from his grip before but I did look hot. I climbed into the shower and let the water run over my body, closing my eyes breathing out
"Y/n?" I groggy voice called
"shower" I called back and Tom walked back with his boxers hung loosely around his hips "wanna join?" I asked seeing his face light up, he pulled his remaining clothing off and hopped in next to me, my ass pressed against his legs, his hands went to my hip dips but a gasp left his lips "what?!"
"did I do these?" he asked rubbing the bruises
"yeah- it's okay, I like them" I grinned turning to face him "have you seen your neck?" I asked running my finger across the rather large purple spot
"its beautiful" I smirked pressing a wet kiss to his lips under the water "you know- nobody has ever made me talk to them or asked to take my stuff off before and I think that genuinely turned me on more " a small laugh escaped our mouths
"I'll be sure to ask again" he nodded pressing his lips to my wet hair, I wrapped my arms around his wet waist and just held him until he hummed into my skin
"aftercare then?" I furrowed my eyebrows to him "don't say you don't know what it is" I shook my head "wait you're not joking?"
"no what is it?" Toms face turned into a look of anger then relaxed again
"well... its when you look after the whom ever you just fucked after the fucking" I nodded listening to him explain all the different things about aftercare until he finally took a breather "so what happened after you a Brian... you know did it?"
"oh well usually he'd kiss me and say be back later, get changed and leave there was only once he actually did come back though..." I looked away from the boy and just grabbed my soap trying to ignore the memories of Brian that tried to push through
"pass me that" his voice was low but sweet "I'm not going to be like him Y/n- now pass me the bottle, let me show you what aftercare really is"
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we finished in the shower and I never felt safer than with Tom, he was so gentle and caring, asked me if I'd been hurt and if I was sore- he was so different to Brian and so different than the boy I imagined him being.
I was sat at my desk brushing through my now dry hair as Tom watched from a far, towel wrapped around his dreads and waist "how long does it take for your hair to dry?" I asked and he went into thought
"Ermmm like an hour or two but with a hairdryer 20 minuets and I'm done" I nodded standing from the seat and patting it for him to walk over and sit on "you don't have too"
"I'd rather all my pillows don't get damp to be honest Tom-" a cheerly smile appeared on his face, before he sat he pressed a kiss to my lips, not anything hungry or rough it was small and sweet "thank you" I grinned
"I like being able to kiss you- and tell you I love you without feeling like I'm going to get friend zoned" he laughed getting comfy as I pulled the towel from around his head. I watched his face in the mirror as I slowly parted the locks and dried them in bunches, never for one second did he not have a smile along his lips, he was looking at himself, watching me do his hair and he just looked so relaxed
"so are you okay with staying round tonight?" I spoke through the blasting of the hair dryer and Tom only hummed at me so I switched of the dryer and bent to his level "do you want to stay around tonight? I don't want you to feel like I'm holding you hostage" I joked
"well if were being honest here- if you kept me hostage I wouldn't complain, but anyways if you don't mind letting me stay but what if your mom and dad come home and see you in bed with me?" he seemed a slight bit worried so I rest my hand on his shoulder from behind giving him a reassuring squeeze
"they won't be back till 3pm tomorrow so I don't think there will me any issues with that" Tom breathed "so? staying?"
"of course" before I started to dry the last section of hair I quickly pecked a kiss to his cheek which a small blush painted his cheeks. His hair was done and we were both changed into new clothes, Tom had spares which my mom kept In the spare bedroom for some unknown reason, he came out in grey joggers and the shirt folded in hand "I'm to warm to wear this"
"I'm not complaining don't worry" Tom came over to me, looking down and wrapping his arms carefully around my hips, his eyes locked with mine and then his lips, the kiss was slow and romantic in the dull light of my room, my hands found themselves holding his waist and tugging him closer to me until we both fell back onto the bed, him over me but not in a scary way he gently ended the kiss pulling away and smiling to me below "I Love you Tom" are the only words I managed to say and his face turned to one of happiness
"I love you too" we shared one last kiss before climbing beneath the covers with each other, immediately his strong arms curled around me pulling himself closer until he was virtually on top, his head rested delicately in the crook of my neck where he kept pressing little kisses to making me giggle as his lips tickled my skin "today has been one of the craziest but best days I think I've ever lived" I agreed snuggling into his warmth "think I could take you on more dates?"
"I should think so" my free hand massaged his shoulder as I tried to keep my eyes from shutting, Tom looked up a smiling at my weakness to stay awake and pressed one last tender kiss to my lips then my world turned black but I knew I was okay wrapped up with Tom.
#bill kaulitz#kaulitz twins#tom kaulitz#tom kaulitz x reader#georg listing#00s#gustav schäfer#tom kaulitz imagines#tokio hotel#germany#tom kaulitz smut#smut#fem reader#tom kaulitz icons#tokio hotel smut#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel imagine#monsoon
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