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#they’re so small pls >_<
kyojurismo · 10 months
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no way there’s selling these in japan and here ppl barely acknowledge them in my country 😤😤 I NEED THEM SO BAD YOU HAVE NO IDEA
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@sunandflame SUNNY LOOK LOOK LOOK LOOK
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elvencantation · 7 months
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i feel like i get literal psychic damage when i think about capitalism too long
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leefl00f · 3 months
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Look what came in the mail today!! X3
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They’re a bit smaller than I expected tho ._.’ but I did ordered the minis so what did I expect?
more pics of em compared to my hand
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They’re pretty, but how am I supposed to show them off if they’re that small on my soon to have Totoro messenger bag? 😔/srs
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colesawicn · 11 months
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i love you songs about loss and grief and longing with water metaphors I LOVE YOU BOTH SO MUCH
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i-am-tiny-sun · 1 year
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don’t let him fool you, he totally squeezed you after you took this photo (and he didn’t give the cardigan back)
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also here’s the leech twins together bc it would feel wrong to separate them
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spookykestrel · 8 months
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KESTREL. KESTREL. KESTREL. there are SO MANY BUGS in arizona. and every time i see one i think of you :)
i saw a cockroach for the first time (!) the other day, and also found a cool moth that i got a terrible photo of but here it is
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and also i met someone at astronomy club and their favorite insects were centipedes and i immediately though of you (actually i thought of you way before bc they were wearing a green crop top w bugs on it and moth earrings and it looked so cool and so slay and so kestrelcore)
anyways ramble over ily <3
Wooaoaogh I love sphinx moths that’s so coolio
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^my lockscren lollll
Also you should become best friends with the astronomy club person bc they sound super sexy and cool
Ily have a goodnight take care of yourself and learn lots about space
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sugume · 3 months
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HELL BENT — RYOMEN SUKUNA
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✧・゚ The Incubus King finally claims his intended.  
( TW ) f!reader, incubus king!Sukuna, major size difference (Sukuna’s 8ft tall!), harem, group sex, fingering, cunnilingus, biting, rough sex, bleeding, forked tongues, cervix fucking, mating bonds, reader goes in some type of ‘heat’, explicit content. 
word count - > 1.5k
author's note: PLS don’t take this seriously Idek what this is!! unedited + I'm trying a new writing style
Can’t stop thinking about Incubus king!Sukuna who finally finds his intended after centuries of looking. Who finds her in a place he never thought to check, the human realm. Who he kidnaps and brings down to his realm, telling you how you are to be his queen and rule his subjects alongside him. You have a mental breakdown your first week. The change of scenery, coming to terms that this is real, the differences between you and Sukuna’s species he calls Incubus. You’ve heard of them before, but you didn't think they were real—who did? They’re eight feet tall, winged creatures who liked to fuck 24/7. Half of them roam around naked and you can’t turn a hallway without catching two or more in sexual activities. So, hearing that you're some type of ‘mate’ to the king of the creatures? You think you’re dreaming. Sukuna brings you food every day and talks about how the mating bond has been activated now. How the several next week's you’re going to be restless until he ruts and claims you. 
You scream and cry how this is his fault. He leans over the buffet of food and smacks your thigh with a grumble. You refuse to speak to him for the rest of the night even when he undresses and washes you. Making crude comments like how he can’t wait to breed your human body full of his offsprings. Sukana who doesn’t have the time for your refusal to talk to him for he has a kingdom to run, so he drops you off to a group of naked, pierced women who he calls his harem. He gently pushes you into one of the tall women before telling her to take care of you or else.  
You can’t find it in your to be jealous of the women for being his ‘harem.’ You don’t even like Sukuna right now and the women, they’re so kind and mature that you would much rather spend your days lazing around with them than sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he laughs at his people who come to him with misfortunes.  His harem teaches you all about their lands, how sex isn’t taboo instead something they need just like oxygen is to humans. How when they fuck, they release some type of energy that’s built up in their body that causes their kind to go insane and terrorize the human realm.  
Sukuna’s harem who are utterly obsessed with how small you are compared to them. They used to spend their days lying around on rich cushions and blankets waiting for Sukuna but even they got bored of him—if it were up to them, they’d lock him in their room and never let him out. His harem who was supposed to be teaching you more about their king but instead chose to spend their days lazily eating you out with their long-forked tongues and fucking you dumb with their big fingers. They make you suckle their breasts and grind on their faces. They’re so gentle after, hissing at each other when one speaks too loudly after you had fallen asleep, washing your body clean, wrapping you in the softest blankets to carry you back over to your room with Sukuna. Some days they happen to catch Sukuna in his room, and they smirk and giggle when they see his jealous face. They take it as the highest compliment their queen has decided to lie with them before the king.  
Incubus king!Sukuna who feels the mating bond grow stronger with every second you're in his castle. He feels himself shifting. He unable to stay away for long periods of time. He forces you to bathe with him before making you sit on his throne with him while he talks to irrelevant people, his hard cock jumping every time you move. You want to get away, moaning and grumbling how his you want to go play with his harem, it’s uncomfortable sitting on muscular thighs for hours while listening to him talk in several languages you don’t understand to people you don’t know. Sukuna who hisses and grumbles at you before going back to his subjects who kneel at the bottom of his obsidian throne.  
 Throughout the week you can’t help but get hornier and hornier until your unable to walk without liquids dripping down your thighs and wetting your skirts. Despite Sukuna's harem playing with you can’t help but plead and cry for him. You barely know the man but your body aches for him, for his cock, his bond. Sukuna who finally comes to see you one day. Who picks you up to set you up top of the cushions so you can watch him fuck his harem. He does everything he could think to the women, he wants to see what makes you twitch and ache and cry. By the time he’s done—hours later—you’re in a puddle of slick panting and crying how you want him. He doesn’t take you though, he can smell that you aren’t ready for him just yet, and he can’t risk injuring his mate who he’s searched for centuries. He won’t allow himself to bring you any harm, so he just holds you in his lap and makes his harem play with you until you pass out. 
Sukuna whose balls deep in one of his women when he sniffs that air and smells the scent change in you. The women he’s fucking laughs when he yanks himself out of her and goes to you. He picks you up from the drenched cushion you're sitting on. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob and the feeling of his body. You try to wrap your legs around his huge frame but you’re too tired, so they just hang as he walks you back to your room, your thighs rubbing against his cock. Sukuna lays you down on the huge bed before ripping your silky dress and ding his head in between your legs. He brings you to several orgasm, but his mouth and forked tongue isn't what you want. You want his cock. You want him to fuck you pregnant while he bites you and claims you as his. You scream and kick and pull and at the pair of horns on top his head, but he just shushes you before going back to eating you out.  
Sukuna finally deems you ready to take his cock but before he kisses and drags his teeth all over your body. He suckles at your breast, commenting on how you’ll be feeding him with said breasts soon. You cry out when he finally turns you ass up. You don’t even think about how much bigger he is than you, how his cock might not fit inside. Sukuna pushes your head into the blankets, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it over your pussy. You scream at him, but he ignores you enjoying the sight of your pussy against his too big cock. When he finally pushes into you scream into the pillow. You scream for more, for him to slow down, for him to breed you, for him to fuck you harder, for him to stop and let you catch a break. He’s too out of it to listen. He never knew what it would feel like to claim a mate but this? If he had any doubt the little human underneath his wasn’t his, he didn’t now. He finally felt whole. He felt your essence flowing into him, making him stronger, more aware, if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel your emotions and hear your thoughts. He fucked your impossibly harder. 
Sukuna leans down and whispers for you to open, and let him in. You don’t understand what he's talking about until his cock shoots some warm liquids and you feel your cervix open. It hurts so good when he pushes deeper into you. You orgasm again before he releases his seed into you. The tension leaves your body at the feeling of his seed rushing to your womb. You’re about to succumb to the sleepiness before Sukuna jolts you awake saying this is just the beginning.  
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torubeth · 1 month
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degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)
context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.
ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.
‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.
‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.
correction, you shatter.
somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.
and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.
‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’
quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.
‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.
when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.
‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’
‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.
god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.
‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.
‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.
geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.
‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.
‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.
‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.
‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.
‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.
‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.
‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.
since when did he-?
out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-
‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.
‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.
what the fuck am i doing, he thought.
slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.
‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.
‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.
‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.
his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.
he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.
nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.
‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.
‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.
the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.
he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.
‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.
a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.
slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.
‘sweetheart…? why are you…’
you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.
‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’
his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’
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inkats · 11 months
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I want my dolls back….
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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in the dead of night
in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH
When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 
Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 
God, he loves you. 
It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 
“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 
“Hm?” 
His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 
“Is this okay?”
You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 
“I need yes or no, angel.”
“Yes, please.”
The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 
“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 
“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 
“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”
Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 
“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 
He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 
The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 
“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”
“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”
He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 
“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”
The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”
“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”
He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 
“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”
“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 
“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”
That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 
“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”
“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”
It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 
“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”
“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”
“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 
“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”
You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 
“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 
“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”
“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 
“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”
“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”
“Why not?”
You huff.
“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”
“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”
You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 
“No! I take it back.”
“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”
The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”
“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”
“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”
That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.
“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”
A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 
“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”
“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”
You laugh. 
Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 
He loves it when you do that. 
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bvmbl3b0x · 1 year
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ska/punk bands with female vocals>>>
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crowcryptid · 1 year
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This week was so calm and peaceful cause my stupid ass coworkers weren’t here. And by that I mean they showed up, clocked in, and disappeared and got paid to do??? Whatever it is that they do. I assume walk around. Or sit outside. For like 6 hours a day. They only come back to have lunch.
But today they decided to stay, not working of course, cause the new hires can do all your work for you. Do I really care that they’re not doing anything? Eh. I’ve gotten used to them being completely unreliable and I prefer when they’re not here. Cause them being here=noise. It’s annoying that they keep complaining that “young people don’t work” when they are literally not doing anything. But I’ve grown so used to them doing fuck all that it doesn’t bother me anymore. They can leave. They should leave.
What bothers me is that when they aren’t working they cannot shut the fuck up. Oh my god. Shut up.
I don’t understand why can’t they just go somewhere else. They did it all week. Why not today. Gtfo. There’s plenty of places to sit and be as loud as you want outside. And the reason for not going outside can’t be to avoid the heat because they keep it way too warm in here. I’m sitting perfectly still and I’m sweating. Which is another reason why I want them to leave so I can turn on the damn air. And yes I’ve tried to turn it on when they’re here and they turn it off not even 10 mins later cause “it’s too cold”.
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#my particular brand of weirdness makes being the same room as another person uncomfortable#but being trapped in here with 3 people who can’t shut up?????? bricks in your head. now. now. now. now.#I’m going cwazy#the 3rd one isn’t even a coworker she’s just their friend who comes over. meaning she also isn’t doing whatever her job is.#they talk about like 6 topics in total#1) I hate my kids. 2) food. 3) party/casino. 4) health issues. 5) I hate young people. 6) giving each other ‘life advice’#the ‘life advice’ is all terrible cause they’re all dumb as rocks tho#I’m going cwazy I’m going cwazy I’m going cwazy#need. them. to. shut. up.#pls I need you to imagine you are at a latino party but all they’re talking about is how much they hate anyone younger than them#this is essentially what it is#I specify latino party cause it’s all in Spanish and they think I can’t understand them#so there is no filter over what they say#also they’re loud. so loud. this is such a small room and it really only should be an office for 1#and you’ve got 4 people in here#*hands on head* I need to blow them up#also for context I’m trying to study and they know I’m trying to study#they just have 0 respect to not be loud as fuck#like. please. they can see I’m reading shit and taking notes can you NOT be yelling at the person 4 ft away from you#can you just talk normally. please. I don’t care if it’s the same stupid conversation just . shh. ok. shh. cut the volume by 2/3#can you tell I’m losing it. can you tell.
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pprodsuga · 7 months
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i’m serious about you
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summary: gojo realizes just how much he likes you when you go on your first date
note: feeling a bit soft for gojo rn so pls enjoy this little scenario…it’s 2am and i just wanna write something before i go to bed <3 gojo is probably a little ooc but this is my blog so!!!
i’m a lil rusty when ur comes to writing fics but i hope u enjoy!
warnings: fluff fluff fluff + she/her pronouns
masterlist :)
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“I’m surprised this place is open so late.”
You mutter absentmindedly as you look at the pastries behind the glass, face at a respectable distance while Gojo stands beside you. He leans down to see what you see, his own eye catching the chocolate cake sitting on the top shelf.
“Nanami told me about it a while ago,” he explains. “Says he likes to come here when he can’t sleep since they’re open so late.”
“Do you like this bakery?”
Gojo watches as you pick and choose which pastries you want to try. The girl behind the counter lifts her gaze to him, eyes widening before averting her gaze to the small box in her hands.
“Haven’t tried it, actually,” Gojo says. He rubs the back of his neck when you turn around. “I, uh, wanted to wait. To try it with you, I mean.”
He sees your mouth morph into a shy smile and he can’t help but return it. Gojo turns and orders a beverage from the cashier, watching as her fingers fumble with the buttons before she relays the bill.
You’re about to pull out your wallet when Gojo reacts quicker than you can comprehend. You watch as he gives his credit card to the cashier without batting an eyelash. He laughs when you huff and grumble about being able to pay for the pastries since he paid for dinner, but he bumps his hips with yours and tells you it‘s on him.
You look so perfect under the awful fluorescent lights in your best dress and hair let down. He’s not used to seeing you like this; so carefree without your worries tucked away in that pretty little head of yours.
Gojo used to think he’d make it through life without relying on anyone and that he couldn’t count on other people for his own source of happiness and companionship. But he can’t deny there’s something about you that tugs at his heart strings a bit too aggressively.
This feeling follows him to the morning prior, when he asked you to accompany him to dinner. Gojo had guessed that you liked him more than you let on but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. This new sensation in the pit of his stomach travels with him tonight, especially when he takes a step back to fully absorb the way you look in his jacket. It dwarfs your shorter stature yet Gojo thinks it was made for you to wear.
The girl behind the counter turns around to finish the order, leaving the two of you to your wits for the time being. Gojo senses that this—casual dating or otherwise—isn’t something you do often. He silently thanks Shoko for drilling him about you (likes, dislikes, who you are as a person aside from the so-called friend group you two belong in) because he sees your finger tapping against the side of your leg and decides to make a move.
“I really like spending time with you,” Gojo starts. “I could do this again and again if you let me.”
“Really?” you ask, sounding something akin to disbelief. Your dress follows your movements as you turn around but all Gojo can focus on is the way your cheeks begin to blush. How cute.
He takes a step forward, nodding. “Believe it or not, I really enjoy spending all of my money on cute girls.”
“Is that so?“ you ask with an uptick in your voice. “Wonder if I’m the cutest, then.”
Gojo knows you’re joking by the way you’re smiling at him, but he wants to set the record straight.
“You are,” he says, “because you’re the only one.”
A soft sound distracts the two of you and he looks past your shoulder to see the cashier has set his beverage on the counter. Gojo thanks her and grabs the cup when he notices notices she’s written her phone number on the back of the surface. His stomach drops when he sees your eyes linger on the penmanship.
He panics.
“I must be special.”
Your voice lacks the humor from moments prior, eyes glazing over the written numbers while Gojo pathetically stands like he’s a frozen statue. He doesn’t know why he cares what you think of him nor why he wants to disprove the theory that he can’t settle down because of an innate need to flirt with everything that breathes. He watches you swallow and avert your gaze to the exit sign when he nods furiously.
“Yeah, you are.”
Gojo throws the beverage in the trash can beside him and cups your jaw in both of his hands to pull you into a tender kiss in the middle of a poorly lit bakery with two other patrons. He thinks your lips taste like coconut and sugar, so soft that he could keep his mouth on you forever and never complain.
He must be doing something right because you’re kissing him back.
You pull away first and he laughs at your flustered state, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips before you can escape him. He pays no mind to the girl who walks into the back room.
“I’ll spend however long it takes to make you understand that I’m serious about you,” Gojo promises.
“You better send Nanami a thank you card.” You grab the box of pastries. “Taking me here was a good start.”
Yeah, he thinks. She’s the one.
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agustdiv1ne · 9 months
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💨‧₊˚.° 11:58 p.m. (m) — choi yeonjun & kang taehyun
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genre: smսt, threesome, doms!fratboys!taejun, sub!fem!reader, friends to ???, high sex + car sex = 😵‍💫
wc: 4.9k (someone sedate me pls)
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becoming friends with frat boys was never part of your plan for college. 
alas, here you are, two of them basically surgically attached to your hip. your first semester of junior year has been full of surprises thus far, your blooming friendship with yeonjun and taehyun being the most significant one; what started out as partners for a project has transformed into a close friendship with the two guys, and your new norm now consists of grabbing starbucks together before heading to class, hitting the gym with either one or both of them in tow, and — for better or for worse — attending their frat’s infamous parties every weekend.
and lucky you: you’ve just arrived at one.
as you climb the steps of tau chi tau’s gigantic house, you spot the bright blond hair of one of the pledges on door duty — your favorite pledge, actually. 
“sunoo!” you greet, tackling him into a hug as soon as you reach him. he reciprocates easily, his lips curling into a small smile before he’s pulling away.
“you’re late,” he teases. “your boyfriends are already high off their asses.”
you scoff, nudging his shoulder with a closed fist. “first of all, they’re not my boyfriends. second of all, they knew i wasn’t gonna be here for a while, and i promised i’d be their d.d. tonight, so,” you shrug. he rolls his eyes playfully, but opens the door for you anyway.
“yeah, yeah, whatever. they should be in the basement,” he says, gesturing for you to go inside. “just be careful, it reeks down there.”
you laugh. “thanks, dude.”
as the front door shuts behind you, you take in the state of the house. the air is hot and humid against your skin, your shoes getting stuck on the floor that is covered with liquids you’d rather not identify. some rap song pounds in your ears, and you nod your head along to the beat as you slip between a small space between two groups, finally reaching the door that leads down to the basement. the moment you swing it open, the potent stench of weed bombards your senses. your nose scrunches up — sunoo wasn’t wrong.
in vain, you wave your hand in front of your face as you make your descent. the haze floating in the air grows a bit thicker the further that you go, your only goal now being to get them out of here before you start feeling the effects as well. you eventually have to drive, for christ’s sake, and you’re not looking to get a dui anytime soon. with one last step, you make it to the bottom of the staircase. the music is quieter down here, but the smell is far worse than upstairs. a familiar laugh pulls your attention to the couch facing away from you, two very familiar heads of hair catching your attention. as you sneak up behind them, you press your index finger against your lips, silently telling beomgyu — who sits on the couch opposite to them — to keep quiet. he simply smirks at you.
“y/n’s here,” he calls. annoyed, you flip him the bird and send him a scalding glare before leaning over the back of the couch, your scowl quickly being replaced by a grin. two pairs of red-rimmed eyes find yours, widening in tandem when they register that you are, in fact, there. 
“my baby!” yeonjun cries, his hands reaching up to pull you down towards him. his lips meet your forehead, pressing an aggressive kiss there, palms squishing your cheeks to hold you in place. you struggle to pull away from his grip, ignoring his pout and insistent grabby hands once you do. you sate him by linking your fingers with his. 
“you’re later than usual,” taehyun comments from next to him, a smile permanently etched on his lips, the sight a testament to his inebriated state. unlike yeonjun, he doesn’t move to touch you, perfectly content with watching. 
“i literally told you earlier that i had a paper due at twelve,” you remind him, removing your hands from yeonjun’s as you round the side of the couch, aiming to sit on the arm of it. that is, until yeonjun pulls you between them so that you rest on his left thigh and taehyun’s right. yeonjun wraps an arm around your waist, while taehyun rests a hand on your upper thigh. you try your best not to squirm. they’re your friends, but you’re not fucking blind. 
“you could’ve asked me for help,” taehyun murmurs close to your ear, squeezing the meat of your thigh. his warm breath tickles the side of your neck, and you gulp. directly across from you, beomgyu meets your flustered gaze, an amused eyebrow raised as he sinks further into the couch. you tear your eyes away from him to focus on your fingers twiddling in your lap. 
“i-i didn’t wanna bother you,” you admit, and he emits a giggle. the hand not sitting on your thigh reaches over to pinch your cheek.
“you’re so cute,” he coos, and for some reason, the praise goes straight to your center. “i wouldn’t’ve minded.”
okay, time to go. you don’t think you can handle any more of their pda, and you’re starting to feel a bit weird after inhaling all of that smoke. if you want to get to their apartment, you need to leave right now. standing, you stretch your limbs in a poor attempt to rid them of their shakiness. 
“time to go,” you voice, turning to face them. their eyes are dark and hooded as they look up at you. you falter a bit, stumbling when yeonjun rapidly leans forward and gathers you in his arms again. 
“but i don’t wannaaaa!” yeonjun whines, pulling you back onto the couch and straight onto his lap, his grip around your waist tightening enough that you’re pulled against his chest. “ten more minutes!”
sighing, you wiggle in his grasp, to no avail. you look over at taehyun for help, only to find him laughing at the sight. then, an idea pops into your mind, something that you know will appeal to both of them.
you turn your head towards yeonjun. “what if i take you to mcdonald’s?”
that gets them going. after one last odd look and crude gesture from beomgyu, you guide them out of the house and into yeonjun’s car. taehyun rides shotgun, while yeonjun mumbles in the back about how that’s unfair treatment — it’s his car, after all. despite yeonjun’s initial complaints, the drive over to the closest mcdonald’s is filled with loud, off-key singing from yeonjun and hysterical giggles from taehyun. it makes your eyes roll, but a tiny grin pulls at your lips all the while. 
“you’re lucky i love you guys,” you mumble, pulling into a spot in the parking lot after giving the drive-through worker the largest order that they have probably ever received, digging into your mcflurry as they silently inhale their burgers, fries, and their own mcflurrys. the pace at which they eat both impresses and terrifies you.
as soon as all three of you have finished, you begin the drive over to their place. you assume that they will let you stay over given how late it is, and it’s not as if they’ve ever minded before. after a few minutes, you realize how oddly quiet they’re being, and you look over to find taehyun staring at you, eyes unblinking and full of an emotion you can’t quite place. you whip your head back to the road — until you hear a sharp shink from the back. looking through the rearview mirror, you find yeonjun’s lighter poised to a brand new joint that rests between his plush lips, the flame bright and inching closer and closer to the paper.
“dude, you are not about to hotbox this car,” you groan. “put the fucking lighter down.”
“it’s my car. i can do whatever i want,” he mumbles in defiance, the lighter moving precariously closer again and illuminating his face in the dark backseat. you swing an arm between the two front seats in a poor attempt to grab the lighter. a hand moving to your thigh — taehyun’s hand — and squeezing nearly causes you to swerve the car before you gain control again. 
you glance over at the boy next to you as his fingers trail up and down your inner thigh, panic lacing your pupils, but you are distracted once again when the flame in your peripherals returns. “yeonjun, i swear to god—”
“don’t you want some?” taehyun interrupts, his hand stilling on a patch of skin high on your thigh, dangerously close to your center. “you worked hard today, you should let loose.”
you do. you really, really do. the stress built up in your muscles has become almost overbearing, and you’d think that it would be gone after your paper was out of the way, but no. honestly, all you want to do right now is relax, and taehyun’s offer is more than tempting — but you also don’t want to crash yeonjun’s car. at the same time, you are within walking distance to their apartment, so maybe…
“fine. just— just let me park first,” you concede, pulling into the nearest empty parking lot, parking in the dark back corner and subsequently cutting the headlights. twisting in your seat, you find yeonjun already prepared with an old pill bottle full of pre-rolled joints. an insane amount of them, actually. you snatch one and place it between your lips, reaching for the lighter in yeonjun’s other hand, only for him to pull it away. 
“nuh-uh,” he drawls with a lazy smirk. “c’mere.”
in curiosity, you lean forward, wondering what, exactly, his game is. he sets the bottle down, and his fingers reach up to grip your chin, fingertips lightly digging into the skin as he brings the lighter up and lights the joint for you. your stomach flips, your thighs automatically closing around taehyun’s hand. wrenching your face away, you turn towards the front again, heart racing in your chest as you take your first hit. then another. you block out the other two as you allow your high to take over. you don’t notice taehyun’s grip on you slip away.
over the course of what you think is a few minutes, your body begins to relax into the seat, head thrown back against the headrest as your brain fogs up. blurry eyes stare up at the gray ceiling. you eventually register just how hot it is, then notice the sheer amount of smoke that’s floating past your vision. a finger pokes your cheek, and you follow the hand back to taehyun. you smile subconsciously.
“such a lightweight, so cute,” he says, tapping his finger against your cheek again. you notice that he doesn’t have a joint of his own. “gimme a hit.”
“get your own,” you reply with a defiant hum, cheeks warming as you jokingly shield your joint with your body. he sighs. 
“c’mon, i just wanna try something. you trust me, right?” he murmurs. blinking hard, it takes you a moment to send him a lethargic nod. he peels the joint from your fingers with ease. “come closer.”
you obey, leaning over until mere inches separate your faces. he grabs you by the collar of your t-shirt, urging you to come closer. his eyes flit to your lips before they meet your gaze again — as if the weed wasn’t enough, this whole situation is rendering you even dizzier. 
silently, he pushes a thumb against your lips, pressing forward to part them. your mouth immediately accommodates the digit, and it presses against your tongue for a moment before dragging down to your bottom lip, your saliva mixing with your lipgloss. something quiet and pathetic sounds from your throat, your breath stuttering in your chest when he bites down on his own lip, his big, wide eyes far from innocent as he stares at you.
“keep it open,” he quietly orders, voice low and demanding, before he removes his thumb completely. you sit there, mouth agape like a fish out of water while he places your joint to his lips and inhales deeply. the seam of his lips closes immediately. then, he leans in, his lips mere millimeters away from yours. he holds your gaze as he opens his mouth and blows the smoke into your mouth, and you inhale it with a shaky breath. it travels down your throat and deep into your lungs, but the heat that spreads through your body isn’t from the smoke — no, it’s something overwhelmingly feverish. needy, wanton. 
the moment your eyes flutter close, taehyun’s lips are on yours, the taste of him sweet from the ice cream he ate earlier. the smoke you exhale passes between your parted mouths, drifting out into the cabin of the car. he feels around for the cupholder, then for his soda, using a single hand to pop open the lid before he’s dunking the lit blunt into the liquid, the movement of his lips unwavering all the while. he wastes no time in curling his palm around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as he devours you whole. 
“holy fuck,” you vaguely hear yeonjun gasp, too far gone in the sensation of the languid, saliva-slicked kiss. it feels as if you are floating on top of a cloud, and you move to grab at his bicep to ground yourself. taehyun slips his tongue past your lips, curling the muscle around your own and immediately establishing his power over you. whining into his mouth, you attempt to pull away, only for yeonjun to cup your face and take over the kiss. taehyun’s hand slides down your neck and to one of your covered breasts, groping the soft mound of flesh over the fabric of your t-shirt. you moan into yeonjun’s mouth.
gentle hands pull you over the center console and into the back, yet yeonjun doesn’t break the kiss as he gathers you in his lap, your trembling thighs straddling his hips. you feel his cock press directly into your center when presses you down by your hips. your arms throw themselves around his neck, your lips slotting against his like a matching puzzle piece. the car rocks when taehyun slinks to the back as well, but yeonjun refuses to share you, hips angling upwards to grind his boner harder against your panty-clad core. 
“quit hogging her, you asshole,” taehyun growls from next to you, flipping your skirt up in the process to reveal your lacy panties to their eyes. the man next to you caresses the swell of your ass before landing a light smack. you jolt on top of yeonjun with a pathetic squeak, and his hand comes down again. in stark contrast to his actions, his tone is kind, perhaps a bit condescending, as he addresses you, “ooh, that feels good, doesn’t it? our baby likes to be spanked?”
their baby? something warm fills your veins at that, a quiet whimper muffled by yeonjun’s mouth. with the thin fabric of your panties embarrassingly sticking to your folds, you tear your lips away from yeonjun’s to hide your face in his chest, unable to face either of them. however, the rhythm of your hips does not falter. yeonjun forces you to look at taehyun with a firm grip that squishes your cheeks together, your lip puckering involuntarily. 
“answer him.” his warm breath fans over your ear as he speaks. a shiver racks your body despite the feverish heat surging through your body. knowing your voice will betray you, you opt for a shaky nod. 
taehyun’s gaze burns into your own, the blunt, rounded edges sharpened by lust. his dark pupils are the only thing that you can see in full clarity, the rest a foggy blur. “use your words.”
“yes,” you mumble, eyes screwed shut and your cheeks hotter than they’ve ever felt before. the feeling has spread down to your neck, your chest, the epicenter settling in your lower stomach. it festers there and tears at your insides like a feral beast and all you can think about is them — them using you, them fucking you. your breathing grows heavier before you feel a tap to your cheek, the skin stinging at the contact. 
“open your eyes, baby.”
you’re not sure who says it, but either way, you submit. eyelids fluttering open, you find both of them peering at you like two wolves stalking a soft, wide-eyed little lamb. your tongue feels like sandpaper in your mouth when they exchange scheming looks, their hands all over you as they maneuver your body as if you’re a doll. when did they plan this? how did you not notice their soft murmurs? 
you end up sitting between them, legs spread wide with one leg thrown over each of their laps. taehyun aims his focus towards your breasts, shoving your t-shirt up and yanking your bra down with little care, a hand tweaking one of your tits as the other curls itself in your hair and yanking your head back against the headrest. you cry at the sensation of his lips mouthing at your neck and his fingers pulling and groping your sensitive flesh. on the other side of you, yeonjun wastes no time in attempting to divert your attention back to him. shifting your panties to the side, he caresses your folds before dipping down to your entrance and groaning. 
“oh my god, you’re fucking soaked,” he groans as he gathers your wetness on his fingertips. “tae, you gotta feel her.”
said man’s hand leaves your breast, reaching down to join yeonjun’s at your center. a light brush over your clit causes your hips to twitch before he’s reaching down to swipe your entrance and—
“shit, you’re right,” taehyun breathes against your neck. “that’s so hot.”
without speaking, they begin to work in tandem as they pick you apart. a quiet, barely there voice in the back of your mind wonders if they’ve done this before, but that thought is quickly shooed away once two of yeonjun’s long fingers slide into your needy hole to the knuckle, the delicious stretch of your walls causing you to keen. your spine arches off of the seat when he begins to slide them in and out, curling up and grinding into that sensitive little spot inside you that you can never quite hit. meanwhile, taehyun ghosts a finger over your clit that aches for stimulation, his free hand digging into your thigh to keep you spread wide for them, your leg twitching in his grasp. he circles the sensitive bud as yeonjun adds a third finger to the mix, his movements growing faster as he feels your walls relax around his digits. taehyun ducks his head down to your breast, wrapping his lips around your nipple, his teeth scraping lightly against it. crying out, you plead for them to keep going. 
“such a tight little pussy,” yeonjun rambles directly into your ear, and you clench around his fingers. he nibbles at your earlobe before he continues, voice deep and growly and too much. fuck, it’s too much. “you look s’sexy right now, y’know that? so fuckin’ pretty. gonna make sure you can’t think about anything but us— gonna fuck you so dumb, baby. haven't even had our cocks ‘n you’re already losing it. s’cute.” 
with how wound up you are already, it doesn’t take long for the heat building in your stomach to bubble over, the overwhelming sensations all over your body coaxing you through your intense orgasm, waves a pleasure wracking your trembling body, your release coating yeonjun’s fingers while taehyun leans up to capture your lips. your whimpers are muffled by his mouth. the pleasure seems to have no beginning nor end, dizzying and causing your mind to drift somewhere far away, barely able to reciprocate the kiss. neither of them stop their ministrations until you’re pawing at their hands with a pitiful whine, your words staccato and incoherent.
you sit there, chest heaving and your clothes disheveled, barely able to comprehend the way the two boys argue over who should have you first. hands fly in front of your vision, a closed fist versus a flat hand, and though you can barely see through the smoke floating through the air and your terribly cloudy vision, you recognize that they’re playing a petty game of rock-paper-scissors. a dopey giggle shakes your body as you throw your head back against the back seat. they share a concerned glance. 
“y/n? can you look at me?” taehyun carefully asks. your empty-headed grin remains on your face while you turn to face him, humming in half-baked acknowledgment. he frowns, a hand coming up to cup your face as he takes in your red-rimmed, glazed over eyes. he peers around you towards yeonjun. “i don’t know if she can take more, jun.”
the words sober you up slightly, your grin dropping. “n-no! wan’ more, wan’ your cocks,” you ramble. “need them, please.”
“you heard her. she needs us,” yeonjun muses, already reaching for your loose limbs. “‘n i won, so c’mere, baby.”
yeonjun gathers you into his lap like earlier. this time, however, you feel his tip pressing at your fluttering entrance, an arm around your waist to hold you up. he looks up at you with a smirk. “ready, baby?”
you nod, and he wastes no time to begin slowly pushing your hips down. the flared, leaky head of his cock breaches your entrance. you whine, walls fluttering around him already as he moans. the rest of him presses into you inch by inch. it seems as if you can feel him everywhere — in your stomach, in your throat, the length of his cock almost too much for you to handle. the tip curves perfectly against your, his shaft grinding against your g-spot as he gently rocks his hips, allowing you to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. your whines grow pitchier as he finds his rhythm, hands on your waist as he bounces you up and down on his cock. he curses under his breath, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. he watches you with his tongue between his teeth, lips curled into something cruel and patronizing.
“feelin’ good, pretty?” he breathes, eyes rolling back into his skull as he begins to snap his hips to meet your own. the slap of skin grows louder, echoing throughout the car along with each of your moans and whines. your eyelids flutter, speechless, a cry tearing from your throat when he swipes a thumb over your slick clit, your walls tightening further around him. he doesn’t seem to mind your lack of response, and with a string of curses, he slams you down harder, lips clashing with yours as both of you chase your highs. desperation coats your tongues as he bites down on your bottom lip, pulling it back as you whine, clinging to him desperately, nails biting his skin and leaving deep half-moons in their wake. the slight sting of pain spurs him on, pulling away to spew filthy words into your ear.
“gonna fuckin’ cum deep inside you— ohh fuck, you seem to want that, hm? t-tightened so much around me. you need my cum, don’t you? say you need it,” he demands, holding your face close to his, dark pupils searing into your skin. a light slap to your cheek wakes you up a little. “c’mon— shit. say it or i won’t give it to you.”
“n-need it!” you unabashedly sob, feeling your high hit you. “please, jjunie, cum in me. pleasepleasepleaseplease—”
a deep groan cuts your pleas off, a warmth that floods your walls following close behind. he paints your insides white as he whimpers against your neck, hips twitching as he fucks it further into your hole. you quiver on top of him, holding him close with your arms slung around his neck, nearly in tears at how amazing it feels, sweat clinging to your skin and sticking to your shirt. it takes you much longer to come down this time, your body twitching erratically as the aftershocks continue to roll through your body. 
“jesus christ,” taehyun mutters next to you, and you remove your face from yeonjun’s violet hair to look over at him. his cock lays heavy in his hand, veins bulging as he strokes up and down, pausing at the top to swipe the bead of precum at the tip and smear it over the angry head. the sight causes your mouth to water. the urge to feel him against your tongue is almost too much for you to bear. sliding off of yeonjun with a whine and sore legs, you go to lean down for a taste — before taehyun stops you with a firm hand.
“what do you think you’re doing?” he asks, jaw set as he leers over you. 
“i-i just wanted to—”
“nuh-uh, baby. you don’t just get to do what you want. jun and i are in charge here,” he says, squeezing your jaw roughly. “now, get on your back. head on jun’s lap.”
silently, you do just that, finding yeonjun’s dick already rock hard again right near your face. your juices mixed with his cum gives his lengthy cock a light sheen in the low light, but your attention is soon pulled back to taehyun when he wraps his legs around his waist. towering above you, he guides his head along your slick folds, smearing the remnants of your and yeonjun’s last orgasm along himself. he taps it against your clit, chuckling when your hips jump.
“such a sensitive little thing,” he coos. taehyun doesn’t warn you as he guides his cock to your entrance and pushes his hips forward in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt in seconds. the feeling of his cock inside you is far different than yeonjun’s; taehyun’s is a little shorter, but much thicker, the stretch of your hole borderline painful. 
“h-holy fuck, you’re tight,” he gasps, voice sharp as he tries to hold himself together, resting there for a moment as he allows you to adjust to the sudden intrusion. the moment your hips start to grind against him, his jaw ticks, rolling his hips into you as he watches your brows furrow and mouth fall open into an ‘o.’ hands grip your waist as his thrusts quickly sharpen, harder and deeper and cruel. you blink up at him, whining. smoke hangs around his head like a halo, but the cruel snap of his hips is far from holy. 
diverting your gaze away, yeonjun poises his tip at your lips for you to suckle, breathing shaky as your soft tongue delivers kitten licks to the head. just as he curls a hand in your hair, you slip your tongue into the small slit at the very top as your moans vibrate against him, reveling in how he hisses at the feeling, his thighs flexing beneath your head. your dopey smile returns, eyes rolling back as taehyun continues his hard thrusts, quiet grunts falling from his lips as angles his hips upward in an attempt to get your gaze back on him. it works, your eyes widening adorably as he presses his cock right against your g-spot. his teeth graze his bottom lip, biting down hard when he feels you clench around him, a direct result of yeonjun tweaking one of your puffy nipples. 
taehyun is quiet as he fucks you, only quiet curses coming from him as he uses your body to chase his orgasm. a hand slides up your stomach to wrap loosely around your throat. he barely puts any pressure, but it’s enough to send you reeling, a third high, weaker in magnitude washing over you. after the amount of teasing he put himself through earlier, taehyun isn’t far behind, fingers slightly tightening against your neck as he thrusts into you quicker, coaxing you through your orgasm as his own finally hits him. his moans are high-pitched and whiny as he spills inside you, his cum mixing with yours and yeonjun’s, sticky and hot and satisfying. yeonjun cums against your lips immediately after, forcing you to take his tip into your mouth to taste him. you greedily swallow his release, allowing him to gather the escaped liquid with his fingers and shove it against your tongue. 
pulling out, taehyun watches as the thick, white liquid spills from your hole and onto yeonjun’s leather seats. he gulps, pushing it back into you with thin, lithe fingers as you barely react, brain practically rendered mush. 
“that was…wow,” yeonjun mumbles, caressing your cheek as your eyelids flicker closed. taehyun hums in agreement as he fixes your clothes back into their proper place. lethargic and dumb and feeling so, so warm and full, you drift off into quiet, bleary dreams. their voices seem far away now, their tones faintly worried at your state. a cool feeling washes over your body, causing you to shiver, eyes blinking open for a moment to find the windows now rolled down, airing out the smoke. the cool air feels fresh in your lungs; you’re grateful for it. you close your eyes again, finally passing out for good. 
none of you are sure where this situation will lead when you wake…but you suppose you’ll just have to cross that bridge when you get to it.
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© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.
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feyascorner · 4 months
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Please please please I am in desperate need of Astarion comforting Tav.
Like Tav is always comforting everyone else, but there is never anybody to hold their hand when they are scared or hug them when they are sad. Please let them be scared. Let them be sad, let them be vulnerable and let them feel their own emotions.
Tav needs a hug :,)
a/n. no you're so right because I AM ALWAYS OPEN TO TAV LOVE!!!!! This ended up a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I expected but I hope that’s okay! :) also this is not proofread pls excuse me for the grammar errors that are definitely in here.
You don’t mind helping others, really. You don’t mind guiding Shadowheart to escaping her evil goddess, you don’t mind finding a way to aid Gale’s ticking time bomb, and you don’t mind spending hours in battle to find a piece of infernal iron for Karlach. It’s natural after all, because they’re your precious companions.
But it’s also made the thought of being something else—the one being comforted—more shameful than anything.
It was just a bad day, honestly. Bits of your life being pricked at with needles. The whole week had been hellish, but today seemed to be bent on finally wiping you clean. A battle going wrong, the lake freezing over and preventing you from taking a bath, the pot of soup you were in charge of burning to cinders—they’re all small, but they add up. And when you find that your favorite pair of gloves are splitting at the seams, it’s your final straw.
You stumble into your tent, barely holding back tears as you close the flap shut behind you, signaling that you wanted to be alone. You collapse into your bedroll, face first as even the blanket beneath you isn’t enough to cushion you against the hard floor.
Gods.
You squeeze your eyes shut, begging your tears to leave. The others have a lot more problems at the moment—ones that wager between life and death—but you can’t help the overwhelming burst of emotions you’ve kept bottled in for weeks now. So many bad things are happening, but there’s no time for you to mourn, because the least you can do is stand beside your companions in their own grief. It forces you to constantly stay alert, keeping your heart open for them but shut closed for yourself.
It’s so, so overwhelming. It almost feels like it’ll swallow you whole.
“Are you alright, darling?”
You hadn’t even heard him entering the tent, and immediately your shoulders tense as you shoot up into a sitting position, wiping desperately at your eyes. You know they’re red, but you hope he ignores it. “No, I’m just tired. I’m turning in early for tonight, sorry.”
He stares at you, making his suspicion blatantly obvious to urge you to continue but you don’t, forcing your eyes to the ground. “No need to be sorry, my love. I was just making sure.”
You want to throw yourself into him. To let him hold you as you complain about the more mundane parts of life as well as the feelings wracking the sobs of your chest. To let him soothe you as all you can do is cry.
But you don’t. It’s just not what you do.
“Pity, these pretty things of yours,” he lifts your gloves that had been discarded on the ground with a cock of a brow. “I quite liked them. But…they don’t seem to be at a complete loss yet.”
You finally look at him.
“Why it just needs a bit of stitching and some polish. It’ll look even better than it did before with my handiwork,” he inspects the fabric closely. “Hm, I was finished with fixing Karlach’s shirt anyway, I suppose I could spare some time for your gloves.”
Despite his words, his eyes are gentle as they shift over to you, and it makes your lip quiver.
“I’ll ask again,” he says softly, and you know it’s an effort in vain to resist. “Are you alright?”
Like a river breaking through a dam, you fling yourself into him, tears already slipping down your cheeks as they smear against his shirt. You worry about the snot for a split second, yanking away, but he just pushes your head back to him, sighing with you practically wrapped on top of him.
“You should have told me before things had gotten this bad, my love,” he says, no true judgment laced in his words. If anything, he sounds amused. It makes you cry even harder as you wail loudly into his chest, with his hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.
It’s like a breath of fresh air.
“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks eventually after what seems like eternity, and your sobs have calmed to sniffles.
“…not now.”
“Very well,” he laces his fingers with yours, and you tilt your head up just enough to see the fond smile stretching on his lips. “I shall remain here until you’re ready. Until then, I have no quarrels with our current arrangement.”
You mumble against him as he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “…thank you for this.”
“You needed this,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “I’m not you, of course, which is why comfort is not my strong suit, as charming as I am. I much prefer blowing off steam in a bloody battle, but this—“ he runs a hand through your hair, gentle enough not to pull at any strands. You resist the need to sigh into the feeling. “—this, I can do as many times as you need.”
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gaymcwee · 1 year
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Had to measure my breasts to buy a coat I will never recover
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