#HE WAS FULLY ABLE TO SLOW DOWN AND OTHERS DID BUT NO HE HAD TO SPEED UP

[mingapace]

May I request the reader being just as pathetic as Remmick? Like, both of them crying during sex because they love each other a lot and they're so overwhelmed by their feelings, and being equally obsessed with him as he's with her? I apologize if you do not write for readers who are also pathetic little meow meows but since you didn't mention anything about that in your rules I thought it was worth a try.

Ye! It takes me a lot cause I'm not good with sub!reader but I found it very fun to write. Since you didn't specify any other kinks, I took the liberty of handling the matter myself. I hope you like it.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ᴅᴏᴍ!ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ, ꜱᴜʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ, ᴍ��ᴀɴɪɴɢ, ᴡʜɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴘʀᴀɪꜱɪɴɢ, ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ᴇᴅɢɪɴɢ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ꜱᴇx, ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴇxᴄᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ.

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ: 1,4ᴋ

You lost track of how long you’d been like this — impaled on him, your thighs shaking faintly, the burn of held-in need spreading like a fever through your bloodstream.

Remmick hadn’t moved in what felt like hours.

No thrust. No grinding. No friction.

Just the unbearable fullness of him inside you, hot and still, while his lips lazily traced the curve of your shoulder, the edge of your throat, the delicate shell of your ear.

His hands weren’t idle.

One rested low on your back, fingers splayed, pressing you down against him like he owned every inch of you — which, right now, he did.

The other was crueler in its patience. Gliding up your side, teasing your ribs, stroking the underside of your breast with just the edge of a long sharp nail. Not enough to satisfy. Just enough to torment.

You couldn’t help it.

You whimpered, softly — a sound he had undoubtedly been waiting for.

His laugh was low and dark against your neck. “There y'are now,” he murmured, teeth grazing skin. “Was startin' to think you’d gone and passed out, sittin' so bloody still like that.”

You shift your hips — just slightly. Barely enough to qualify as a movement. But even that is a mistake.

His fingers tighten on your hip instantly, bruising in their precision. His voice drops, honeyed and mocking.

“Ah ah ah,” he purrs. “Not so fast now, darlin'.” He tilts his head back to look at you, fangs catching the light. “You told me you could take it. Said you were well able to sit pretty for me. Hours, you said. Remember that, do ya?”

You glare at him, but it’s weak, trembly — a lost cause.

“Remmick,” you breathe, “please. It’s— I can’t—”

“You can,” he interrupts smoothly, voice like silk dragged over stone. “You just don’t want to anymore. There’s a difference.”

His thumb slides up to brush the corner of your mouth, tracing your lips. “You were bold as brass earlier,” he muses. “So sure of yourself. Where’s all that arrogance now, hm?” He tilts your chin up. “Melted away just because I made you wait? How fragile your pride is.”

You whimper again — not from pain, not even from the pressure building low in your belly like a storm about to break — but from the unbearable need. The intimacy. The weight of his gaze, the deliberate control in every motion.

“Remmick,” you whisper. “I’m begging you.”

His expression softens — just slightly. A cruel softness.

“Y'think I don’t want to fuck you 'til you forget your own name?” he growls low, voice suddenly darker. “You think I’m not burnin' to ruin you right now, love?”

You gasp softly at the change in tone. There’s hunger in his eyes — real, dangerous. The kind only a vampire can carry: ageless, starved, barely restrained.

“But this?” He shifts — just a little, enough to make you keen. “This is more intimate than fucking. This is ownin' you, body and soul.”

He licks a slow stripe up your neck.

You want to cry from how turned on you are.

He leans back just enough to look at you fully now. His white shirt is undone halfway, sleeves rolled to the elbows.

His pale hands are elegant and cruel. His nails, long and sharp, trace slow paths down your back. Every motion is precise, patient, like a man who has lived too long to rush anything.

“Drippin' for me, look at you” he murmurs, glancing down between your bodies. “Feel that?” He flexes his hips just slightly — again, barely — and the sensation makes you choke on a moan. “And I've not even fucked ya yet.”

You’re shaking now, trembling from restraint. Your walls flutter around him, desperate for movement, for release, for anything.

He notices. Of course, he does.

He leans close again, whispering against your lips, “Say it.”

You breathe, “Please.”

“Nah, c'mon. Say it proper.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

A long silence. His red eyes gleam. Then—

“No.”

It lands like a slap.

Your breath catches on a sob you can’t stop in time. It trembles up from your chest, raw and helpless, and before you can turn your face away — ashamed of it — he’s already there, watching.

Remmick freezes.

Then his expression shifts. The slow unraveling of something old and cold inside him, cracking apart under the weight of your tears.

“Ah, fuck,” he breathes, and it’s not sarcastic this time. Not mocking. Just wrecked.

He cups your face so gently it shatters you all over again. His thumbs brush your cheeks, catching the tears. He kisses you — soft, desperate, trembling with restraint — like he wants to take the hurt into his own mouth and swallow it whole.

“Oh, my poor sweet thing,” he whispers into your lips. “You’ve been so good for me. So fucking good. I didn’t mean to break you.”

You gasp when he finally moves — hips rolling up into you in one slow, thick stroke, and you sob again, this time from the flood of overwhelming relief.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, that’s it. Take it. I’ve got you.”

The pace is steady at first — deep, controlled thrusts, his hands anchoring you in place. One at your hip. One tangled in your hair.

He kisses your neck again, open-mouthed, letting a fang scrape gently along your pulse. His breath is ragged now, hot and reverent.

“You’re perfect like this,” he groans. “All warm 'n' wet, takin' me so deep like your cunt was built for it.”

You moan brokenly into his shoulder, clutching at his shirt, nails digging into the fabric as he finally, finally gives you what you need.

“I couldn’t—” he chokes. “I couldn’t move, dear. You were so bloody gorgeous sittin' there, patient as a saint. I just wanted to see how long you'd last for me. I didn’t think it’d hurt you.”

You shake your head — no, no, it’s not pain, not like that. It’s the want, the hunger, the way he fills every part of you, body and mind, until you can’t tell where you end and he begins.

And now that he’s moving, now that he’s inside you, with you — it’s everything.

His mouth finds your ear again.

“You’re mine,” he growls. “Y'hear? Mine to touch. Mine to fill. Mine to keep.”

“Yes,” you sob, clenching around him. “Yours, Remmick. Yours.”

He moans — a sound low and guttural, his control fraying.

“I’d set the fucking world on fire for you,” he whine. “Drain kingdoms if you asked. I’d kill for your pleasure. And you’re crying just because I made you wait. Fuckin' hell, I love you.”

Your whole body jolts at the words.

He doesn’t stop.

“I love you when you’re proud. I love you when you’re begging. I love you like it’s eating me alive.”

You cry harder, and he kisses the tears away as he drives into you now — harder, deeper, not holding back.

His hips snap up into you with filthy sounds, slick and desperate. His hands are everywhere — gripping your waist, fisting your hair, cradling your jaw.

“I’ve got you, darlin',” he murmurs over and over. “I’ve got you. Let go, baby. Come for me now.”

You do — with a scream muffled against his throat, every nerve ending detonating into light. You convulse around him, clutching him like salvation as he fucks you through it, murmuring praise into your skin:

“That’s it, gorgeous. So good.”

His pace falters — a sudden sharp thrust, then a shudder — and he follows you over the edge with a snarl of your name, sinking his fangs into your shoulder as he comes, spilling into you in hot, pulsing waves.

The bite is sharp — pleasure laced with pain — and your body clenches again, aftershocks wracking through you.

You collapse against him, breath hitching, heart pounding wildly against his cold chest.

He licks the wound gently. Kisses it. Wraps his arms around you like a coffin.

“You’re everythin' to me,” he whispers into your hair. “Don’t you ever doubt that, not for a second.”

You’re too spent to answer, but your arms tighten around his shoulders, and he feels it — your answer in the way you hold him, not like a lover but like a lifeline.

And for once, Remmick doesn’t tease. Doesn’t gloat.

He just holds you, and trembles.

[blvdprn]

VALENTINE’S DAY SPECIAL

# jjk men ; 柔術廻戦男 ) x domtop male reader

synopsis special day with your lovely boyfriend

ft. gojō, getō, nanami, tōji, & naoya

warnings non-specified nsfw, suguru’s part is shorter srry, slight homophobia & misogyny from naoya surprise surprise

wc not counted

It was your first ever Valentine’s Day with your boyfriend. Or rather, the first Valentine’s Day when neither of you was busy. Usually, one or the other had a job to do that day —seeing as work never rests— but today, finally, you were both free.

And you were pretty excited.

See, you’ve been planning a little something for a while. After a nice and romantic day filled with sexual tension and ending with a candle-lit dinner, a surprise was waiting for you and your boyfriend at home.

Your sex life wasn’t lacking per se, it was more so some things went unexplored because of an insufficient amount of time. Usually (and sadly), you guys had quickies. There was nothing special about it, it was just a way to relieve stress and show each other that yes you still find the other very appealing. I mean, how could you not? Living with an insanely attractive man and what’s that? Dating said, attractive man? Mmmm, yes, please.

Pushing the key into the lock after paying the bill and driving home, you were nearly shaking with anticipation for what was about to come. Opening the door to your shared house, you quickly pulled the man in, knowing damn well you’d get a noise complaint in the morning. Or at the very least, a nasty stink eye from your neighbours.

—GOJŌ SATORU ( 五条悟 ) : cock bondage

“Fuck!”

“Mm— what’s wrong Satoru? I thought you could take it?”

Right now he was spread out so beautifully for you, knees touching his shoulders and ankles near your shoulders as a result of you pushing his thighs upwards. You were fucking him deep and slow at the moment, making him see stars.

Oh, and how could you forget the pretty pink ribbon tied under and between his balls, reaching the base of his cute red dick and creating a small bow.

“I-I can! This is nothINGGGHH,” cried the man under you, moaning the last part of his sentence.

You laughed. “Doesn’t seem like nothing, sweetheart.”

Satoru blushed even harder, whether from you calling him out or the endearing pet name, you couldn’t tell. Pouting a little, he scratches the hands holding his thighs down. “Just take this thing off… I want to cum already and this stupid thing won’t let me!”

“Awe,” you coo. “Other than giving your cock a nice touch, that was the whole point of it.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Yeah, but you’re taking this dick though!”

“Man just shut up and— FUUUCK!”

Your hips switched pace, from slow to fast, but equally as deep. You should thank all those stupid times Satoru dragged you out on a run for the insane speed you currently held.

“S-shit,” you groaned. “Look at your cute little dick. Looks s-so pretty with the bow…” And although his length was perfect (just like him) and you were just teasing, it really did look pretty. The light pink of the satin ribbon contrasted nicely with the darker shade of him.

Satoru could barely respond, overwhelmed with both the feeling of needing to cum but not being able to, and feeling your cock touching his prostate with every thrust. Slight tears left his eyes, blurring his vision from fully seeing the way small amounts of pre cum ran down the satin around him.

You noticed this, and feeling pity for your pathetic boyfriend, you let one of his thighs go in order to untie the ribbon, knowing you were at your limit too. Immediately, he threw his head back, letting out a loud and whiny moan that would surely wake the neighbours if they weren’t already awake.

Muffling his moan with a kiss, you pulled out right on time, both of your hot fluids mixing together and on his stomach.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you mumbled against his lips. Only receiving a slight laugh in response.

When you were about to pull away, his legs slid down, wrapping themselves around your hips and waist with surprising strength from someone who was just shaking.

“Where do you think you’re going, babe? We’re not done here yet.” Satoru said, staring at your eyes darkly, and all you could do was gulp.

‘Oh, boy.’

—GETŌ SUGURU ( 夏油 傑 ) : collaring

“Is this really necessary?”

“What?” you questioned. “You don’t like it?”

“Darling, it’s embarrassing.”

You huffed. “Which part? The leash or my name on it?”

“Both.” You could practically see him giving you a side eye from your question, even though his back was facing you.

“Well,” you hummed. “Just don’t think about it.”

“And how am I not supposed to do that?”

Expecting an answer, he didn’t imagine you would pull the leash back while giving a powerful thrust. Which is why he couldn’t control the loud and surprised moan that escaped from his lips.

“A-ah! A warning would’ve been n-nice.”

You shushed him. “Don’t think.”

“Mmh— this is going t-to make my throat sore…”

“Liar,” you tutted. “I’ve seen you swallow those curses. This is nothing for you, Suguru.”

He stayed silent, but not for long, because you started rapidly thrusting again with only one goal in mind.

“F-feels so good, darling!” He moaned, gripping the sheets below him, only being able to see your silhouette moving because of the small candles on each side of the bed. “Haaahh—”

Pulling the leash again, you lowered your body so your stomach was almost directly onto Suguru’s back and your face hooked onto his shoulder. In this position, his head was pulled back, and you were able to see the way the nameplate with your name on it moved with each of your thrusts.

Suguru moaned louder, somewhat liking how your name was engraved into something that was on him. He enjoyed the harsh feeling of the collar digging into his Adam’s apple. And he certainly savoured the sounds leaving your mouth that was directly behind his right ear.

Drool escaped his lips, having no choice but to let it fall out of his mouth because he wasn’t able to properly swallow it.

With one strong arm holding him up, he let the other grab your head, pulling you into a necessary and messy kiss. Gasping with every breath, his fingers tightened more and more on some of your longer strands, feeling himself about to cum.

“Darling— I’m ab-bout to—”

“It’s okay… You can cum more anyway.”

And with that, he knew the night was going to be long.

—NANAMI KENTO ( 七海建人 ) : wax play

Quiet pants slipped past your boyfriend’s lips. The heat of the wax on his skin was a great contrast to his cold body. It was embarrassing, how much he liked it. When you first brought it up, Kento was hesitant, never before trying something that was considered so… kinky (by his standards anyway, not yours).

“Ngh…” he moaned softly.

You smile at him, eyes bright with happiness. “It seems like you’re enjoying yourself, Kento.”

Pink dusted his cheeks, shamefully averting his eyes from your face. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

With amusement in your voice and a raised eyebrow, you ask, “Not as bad? But you’re making such cute noises.” Your teasing doesn’t stop there. “It’s bad to lie to the love of your life, you know, and on such a special day too.”

“Don’t tease. Fine, I like the warmth.”

“Of course you do, I knew you would.”

With that, you dipped the candle in your hand, hot wax falling and hitting the blonde man under you. His fit stomach clenched, abs pronounced more than normal as a result.

“By the way,” you muttered. “The wax turns into lotion.” To show him, you moved one of your fingers around some of the hardened wax, watching how it turned into liquid again, but this time it had a semi-cold watery texture. And to your enjoyment, you see the way his eyes watch and silently plea for your hands to move the wax somewhere else.

“That’s…” he begins, eyebrow twitching a bit. “Nice.”

“Very.”

Continuing to pour the hot wax down, down, down. You reach his naked thighs, seeing his pale skin slightly tremble. He wasn’t able to hold in the “hurry” that he covered by putting his hand over his mouth.

“S-shit!” Kento said, being muffled by his hand, letting out an uncharacteristic squeal the moment the blistering heat travelled to his inner thighs.

You chuckled, appreciating the almost once-in-a-lifetime view.

Closer and closer, all Kento was able to feel was a need that he never thought he’d have. A shameful and embarrassing thought rushed through his head, one that he wasn’t quite sure he could vocally tell you in fear that it was a little too much. But like always, you could read him like the back of your hand, so you knew exactly what he wanted.

“Fffffffuuuuuckk—” Was all he let out the moment the wax made contact with the base of his dick.

With an idea in your mind, you swiftly stained his cock with the red burning heat, hearing the desperate cries he let out for you to continue. Even louder moans reached your ears the moment your hand went into contact with it, sweetly massaging up and down so the now lotion wasn’t able to cool down quickly enough.

Kento unexpectedly reached down, grabbing onto your hand so the lotion could be spread everywhere. From his balls to his stomach and up his pecs, it didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, only trying to feel the fire-like warmth from smearing all over him.

With his moans in the air and his senseless voice sounding in the quiet night, you knew this was just starting. After all, you guys hadn’t even fucked yet.

—FUSHIGURO TŌJI ( 伏黒甚爾 ) : riding crop

Never in your fucking life did you think he was actually going to let you do this? I mean sure, you’ve explored a little bit before but you thought this was going to be too excessive for him, that he was even going to be annoyed with you.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

Sure he looked a little ticked off at first, but after thinking about it for a bit he laughed and challenged you.

Which is what brought you to now.

Toji’s strong form was lying on the rose-covered bed, something he scoffed at but you were sure you saw a tiny dust of pink on his cheeks before he turned away. His back was to you, a rare sight, seeing as it made him feel like he had no control. Although you were certain it also made him feel exposed and embarrassed if his red-coloured ears were anything to go by.

You could see his muscular back flexing with any slight movement he did, his veiny arms twitching and big biceps tightening.

All in all, he looked delicious.

The crop tightened in your hand, its leather end glided down the curve of Toji’s spine. A perfect fit, touching every nook and cranny, leaving absolutely nothing unmarked.

An annoyed huff left his nose. “Would you hurry it up?”

You tsked, “Patience.”

“That’s something I don’t have right now and you know it. Unless you don’t know what you’re fucking doing?”

With a hum, you decided to give him what he wanted, knowing this was going to be the last time you did so tonight.

A harsh slap was heard when leather hit unblemished skin, turning it into a soft pink.

Toji’s shoulders stiffened, and you were sure he held in any sounds he was about to make.

“Hey,” you called out. “Don’t hold your noises in.”

“I’m not, you’re just weak.”

‘Right.’

Hit. Again.

Hit. Again.

Hit. Again.

This continued on until his back was covered in colour, yet nothing escaped his lips. Not until the leather hit his ass.

“Fu—”

Continuing your assault on his round ass, you never gave him enough time to complain. And even though it was embarrassing for him, he was glad you didn’t stop, because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to say anything anyway, and it felt so good.

When you knew bruises were going to form, you stopped to turn Toji around, letting the crop trail from his giant pecs to his twitching dick. Only then did you notice that he had come already, but the look in his eyes was telling you to hit something else.

And who were you to deny? Guess he really had you wrapped around his finger.

—ZEN’IN NAOYA ( 禪院直哉 ) : feminisation

“What the fuck is this?” Were the only words to come out of your boyfriend when he saw the short red dress with a frilly skirt on your shared bed.

“A present.”

“It’s a fucking dress. Do I look like a damn woman to you?”

Ah yes, you decided this was going to be a slight punishment for all the times he’s said some dumb shit about women.

“You call women whores. Maybe I should treat you like one so you can know the difference, no?”

Naoya’s eyes screamed in rage, how dare you compare him to them? “It’s bad enough I’m with you —a man who can’t even give me an offspring— but now you want me to be a stupid woman?” His fists were clenched and ready to beat some sense into you (as if he could). “You fucking—”

And then suddenly his top half was leaning on the edge of the bed, wrists pinned behind his back by your hands, and his legs trying to keep himself up to not slide down and fall to the floor.

He hiccuped, not understanding how one minute he was about to launch a punch at you, then the next he had the stupid dress on with the skirt flipped up so as to not get in the way of your continuous thrusts.

“Awe,” you coo mockingly. “What happened to all the talking back? I thought you didn’t want to wear this, but look at you! Looking all pretty and taking me so well. Now aren’t you a doll?”

Naoya was so fucking embarrassed, both by your words and what he was wearing. Why did he like this?

“S-shut the fuck uP— NGHH!”

With only one of your hands pinning his wrists, the other slipped past the cloth of the dress on the chest area. Luckily, your arms were long enough, so there was no need to take your eyes off his hole swallowing your dick, just to pinch one of his nipples.

“I’m not a w-whore! Stop it!” He cried out, but really, he didn’t want you to stop.

“Really?” You pulled on his perky nipple, feeling the way he clenched around you. “But your pussy seems to like it when I play with your tits?”

He whined, slight sobs making his shoulders shake. “Not a pussy!”

You moaned, liking how his voice rose when he said that. “You’re so wet here though.” And with that, your other hand let go of his wrists, Naoya hastily having to grab the sheets under him.

Your hand slipped around his surprisingly slim waist, grabbing a handful of his nodding cock and tracing your thumb against the slit.

“See? You’re so sensitive when I touch your clit.”

Naoya’s mind went blank, everything around him went ignored except for your words and the pleasurable feeling you gave him everywhere your hands and dick touched. Before he knew it, he came, panting against the sheets stained with his drool.

But, oh, you weren’t done with him yet. You still hadn’t come after all.

notes: better late than nvr! i ws planning on writing for sukuna & choso too but ran out of time so 🤷

[brokenmenswhore]

idk if this is crazy but poly!maruraders x reader where r is blindfolded and she has to guess which of her bfs is fucking her

😃😃🥲🥲😞😞

oh it’s crazy but OH did you come to the right place for that

guess | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders (james, remus, and sirius) x fem!reader

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)

a/n: you wanna guess the color of my underwear you wanna know what i got goin on down there

────── ☾ ──────

“You just tell us if anything becomes too much, alright?” James said, tying the silk fabric behind your head tight enough that it fully enveloped your eyes in darkness.

“Okay,” you said.

Remus bent forward in front of you, and you could feel his presence, but you weren’t sure exactly where he was.

“Can you see me?” he asked.

You nodded your head no. “Can’t see a thing.”

“Perfect,” Remus smiled, and you could hear the satisfaction in his voice, even if you couldn’t see him, “now remember the rules. If you guess who’s fucking you correctly, you get to come. Now, Sirius,” Remus turned toward his friend, “start it.”

Sirius lowered the needle onto the outer edge of the record, allowing the music to fill your ears to further deafen your senses.

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, laying back against the pillows as you breathed heavy in anticipation.

One of your boyfriends began to softly run his hands up your legs, stopping when he got to the tops of your thighs. They all wore gloves to eliminate the possibility of you recognizing their touch, and the cloth felt soothing against your skin.

You felt the bed dip between your legs as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he placed kisses on top of your folds.

You shuddered, instinctively trying to grab at his hair, but your unoccupied boyfriends held an arm each to ensure you wouldn’t get lost in the pleasure and slip up. If you could feel their hair, you would be able to tell exactly who it was.

He parted your folds with his tongue, gently circling your clit as you shifted your hips to silently beg for more.

The boy between your legs moved an arm to hold down your stomach as he picked up the pace, flicking your bud and sucking at your clit quickly.

“Fuck,” you sighed, lips parting as you couldn’t help but moan.

Just as he began to get you worked up, he slowed down again, intentionally throwing you off with his pacing so as not to give away which boyfriend of yours he was. They all had their specific techniques, and he didn’t want to risk giving himself away.

You were unable to move your hips underneath is tight grip, so you just whined in anticipation. Each time he quickened his pace, you began to whimper and moan as you got closer and closer to your climax, and right when the coil in your lower stomach began to tighten, he slowed back down and left you wet and needy again.

You felt a tap on your shoulder, signaling you to take your guess if you wanted to come.

One of your boyfriends stayed between your legs, tasting you excruciatingly slowly. You tried to rack your brain for how you felt, and which one of them could make you feel like this.

You figured it wasn’t James- he could hold you down much harder, and his eating out technique was not something he could easily hide. With respect to your other boyfriends, if this was James, you’d have come already.

It was a genuine 50/50 guess between Remus and Sirius.

“I- fuck, Remus?” you guessed.

The boy between your legs disconnected his lips from you, and you felt him leave the bed, your body shivering from the sudden cold air on your core.

“Not me, baby,” Remus said from next to you, dropping your wrists, “better luck next time.”

You wiggled your hips and pouted, “come on, this is no fair.”

“What’s no fair is you don’t appreciate the head I give you,” James chuckled.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, but it wasn’t like they could see it much. “That was you?” you asked.

“Mhm. You taste sweet today, baby.”

“But- but you-“

“Couldn’t give you the same head I always do, now could I? This game would be no fun,” James whispered, leaning down next to your ear and placing a kiss on your cheek.

James stood up, and you heard faint, distant whispering, but you couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.

You obnoxiously cleared your throat to remind the three boys that you were ready and waiting and anxious to come.

“Alright, angel, you want more?” James teased, and you nodded your head furiously as you felt one of the boys spread your legs open and settle down on the bed between them.

They all fell silent again, intent on not giving away who was about to fuck you.

The boy between your legs leaned over you, and you felt the bed dip next to your head where he placed his arm for leverage. He lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance, pushing only a little in before pulling back out and watching in amusement as you moaned in anticipation.

“Please,” you nearly whispered.

He so desperately wanted to make you suffer, wanted to taunt you, wanted to make you ask for what you wanted- but he couldn’t speak or you would immediately know who it was.

Instead, he just pushed the tip in again, stilling for a brief moment before pulling back out.

You writhed beneath him, nearly crying from need as you clenched around air.

The boy took pity on you, slamming his entire length into you and immediately fucking in and out of you. He knew that if he stilled his entire length inside of you, you may be able to identify him.

He wanted to take it slow and torture you, but he had to move fast enough that it wasn’t obvious who he was. Your three boyfriends were all different, and your body adjusted and reacted differently to each of them.

Your back arched as he continued to fuck into you, moans freely slipping from your lips as your body squeezed his cock in appreciation for the stimulation.

You tried not to lose yourself in the pleasure, but you were desperate to come. You knew the trouble you would be in if you did so without guessing correctly who was fucking you, so you tried your best to focus on figuring it out.

Each thrust of his hips hit your cervix, and though he was rough, he wasn’t fucking you so ridiculously hard that he had to put in any extra effort to hit your sweet spot. He could without trying.

Your thoughts went cloudy as he pounded into you harder, losing his self control as he fucked into you faster and faster. He was close to losing this game for you.

He wrapped his arm around your back, his gloved hand gripping your hip as he snapped his hips into you, the new lifted position causing him to bump your clit with each thrust.

You threw your head back as he became selfish, nearly forgetting about maintaining anonymity.

You felt the tap on your shoulder, and you couldn’t bring yourself to think about it. You said what felt right.

“S- Sirius,” you moaned.

Sirius leaned down, allowing his hair to fall in front of his face as he whispered in your ear, “good girl.”

The praise sent you over the edge, as did the confirmation that you had guessed correctly. You came hard, squeezing Sirius’s cock as your thighs shook around him.

He continued to fuck you through your high, chasing his own as you cried out at the overstimulation.

He groaned on your ear, leaning over you as he held your hips against his. With a final few harsh snaps of his hips, he came inside of you, moaning so low that only you could hear. The noises were meant for you and only you.

Sirius caught his breathing before guiding his cock out of you and gently placing your hips back down onto the mattress.

Remus, from beside you, untied your blindfold and removed it from your face. You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the unfamiliarity of the light.

“You have fun?” James teased.

“Mhm,” you vocalized, stretching your body out before leaning onto your side, “it was hot, but Remmy didn’t get a turn.”

Remus giggled at your pouting, “you rest for a little, and then I’ll take my turn, hm?”

You smiled as he placed a kiss on your nose, whispering, “except you’ll know it’s me, everyone will when they hear you.”

You playfully gasped as he smiled at you, standing tall and holding his hand out to you. “Let’s get you cleaned up before that though, yeah?”

[azulpitlane]

british slang I ln4

pairing: lando norris x american!reader summary: pranking lando is the only way he can finally get off his phone notes: hi🧍‍♀️i accidentally disappeared but this semester hit me harder than i expected and im honestly out of ideas so idk what this is masterlist

“Babe what does leng mean?”

“Leng? Why are you asking?” Lando responded confusingly while he scrolled through his phone.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you watch him keep his gaze on his screen. It was a bad habit that you quickly picked up on early on your relationship, but now that you were finally living with Lando you were hoping he would spend less time on his phone considering your time together was limited with his constant traveling.

There had been few times you had even caught him messaging his friends, some who were women, while he was suppose to be spending time with you. Though you weren't a very jealous person and trusted Lando more than anything, it didn't sit right with you that he was messaging other girls during your time together. You had brought it up to him a few times where he promised to put it down and spend more time with you. Little liar.

“Some british guy at the gym called me leng this morning.” you replied trying to sound nonchalant.

“What?” Lando finally tore his gaze away from the screen, confusion etched on his face. You fought the urge to smirk as you stared at him acting clueless. “And what did you say?”

“I asked him what that meant and he just laughed and then said I had a nice ‘bunda’?” you revealed, trying your best to keep a straight face.

Lando's brows furrowed in bewilderment. "Are you serious?"

“Yeah, but I figured out what bunda means!” you said excitedly.

“And what does it mean?” Lando asked, now fully engaged in the conversation as he sat fully sat up from his laid back position.

“Accent!” you declared triumphantly.

“Baby, what?” he responded, confusion quickly turned to exasperation. “Why would you think it means accent?”

“Because afterwards he said im ‘so american’ so when he said I had a nice bunda he was referring to my accent.”

Lando pinched the skin between his eyebrows and held back a groan, “Y/n, no. Leng means attractive and bunda means butt. That guy was flirting with you.”

"Oh," you muttered, "then I probably shouldn't have exchanged numbers with him, right?"

"YOUR NUMBER? WHY WOULD YOU-" Lando's voice rose in disbelief, his eyes widening in shock.

"I thought he was just being friendly! I wanted a new gym buddy, and he said he bet he could improve my stamina so I think he wants to give me some workout tips," you explained, barely able to contain your laughter.

"HE SAID WHAT? NO, WHO IS THIS GUY?" Lando's frustration was clear now, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Well, his name was-" Before you could finish, Lando cut you off.

"You know what? You're not going to that gym alone anymore," he declared firmly. You almost let out a scoff feeling as your small prank failed as you watch him pick up his phone again and get back to scrolling as he laid back down on your bed.

You laid down next to him and pretended to be engrossed in your phone, stifling your giggles as you exchanged messages with your friend about your current situation. You ultimately decided to keep the prank going and you could sense his gaze on you, his curiosity evident in the subtle glances he casted your way.

"That guy- you deleted his number, right?" he asked as he looked at you.

"Hm? you feigned innocence, tilting your head slightly to peer at him through the corner of your eye.

"Yeah, the gym guy. You deleted his number?" he pressed, a hint of urgency in his tone.

"Oh, him," you replied nonchalantly, tapping away at your phone with deliberate slowness. "yeah."

He looked at you suspiciously as he fully turned to look at you, "So who are you texting?"

You maintained your facade of innocence, keeping your gaze fixed on your phone screen almost as payback. "Just a friend," you replied casually, your fingers moving across the screen as you kept texting your friend.

Lando's suspicion only seemed to grow as he observed your behavior. "Just a friend, huh?" he echoed, his tone laced with skepticism. "What are you guys talking about?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to be engrossed in your conversation. "Oh you know, just some fitness tips," you quipped, your voice tinged with amusement.

He gasped loudly and reached for your phone, but you quickly pulled back just in time. "Y/n Y/l/n do not tell me you are even entertaining this guy right now while you lay right next to me."

"Well it's a hobby of yours that I decided to pick up." you replied keeping your phone out of reach.

"I do not do that!"

You raised your eyebrows then casted a glance at his phone that was still on, sitting on his lap. He followed your gaze and scrunched his nose lightly, "Okay maybe I do it sometimes."

You gave him a pointed look and he blinked slowly, "See, now you know how it feels trying to talk to someone who's too busy on their phone." you replied.

Lando's expression softened "Okay, okay, I know it's a problem, but this time I swear I won't do it again." he promised earnestly, his gaze pleading for forgiveness.

You tilted your head and he almost pouted at your lack of response, "I swear it on everything, I swear it on racing! If I do it again, I shall never race again." he declared with a serious face while crossing his heart.

You giggled slightly at his dramatics, 'Alright, alright," you relented, "I'll hold you to it drama queen."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and playfully tackled you back into a laying position. Hovering over you, he pressed gentle kisses all over your face. "Huh, you are better than my phone," he murmured teasingly, his lips brushing against yours.

You grinned up at him and pulled him closer, savoring the closeness and intimacy of the moment. Before you could deepen the kiss, he pulled back and said, "Come on, let's make up for some lost time, we could go down to that new mini golf place."

You pulled him back down and replied, "Or we could stay here and make up for the lack of morning sex today."

His eyes widened slightly at your bluntness, "Yes-yeah-we could- we could do that."

You giggled at his slightly flushed face and connected your lips once again.

"Wait! You still haven't deleted that guy's number." he exclaimed as he pulled back from you.

"Ohhh well he was never real." you replied as you shrugged lightly.

Lando blinked in surprise at your revelation, confusion crossing his features. "What do you mean he wasn't real?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. "I made him up to mess with you," you confessed, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

His expression shifted from confusion to amusement, and then to mock indignation. "You are such a muppet," he exclaimed, squeezing your sides.

"Yeah, yeah." you replied while playfully rolling your eyes. "Now keep kissing me Norris."

"Don't have to ask me twice baby." He grinned before leaning down and capturing your lips together.

more notes: yes i am aware the ending is awful but i wrote this during the suzuka gp and i was stressed enough with that. goodnight. (also just reached 800 followers WOOO thanks guys🥹)

taglist: @greantii @slaycheco @snoopybum @justcewvs @bbygirlqueen @thoughtonlyofyou @heyheyheyggg @sara-2s-world @aquangxl @cherryyfairy @charlsluvvr @darcycaravan @illicitverstappen @laurenhxnry @planetvenus111 @d3kstar @donttttalktome @brune77e @cwiphswmwasohmm @lou-larcher5 @harryspenguin3 @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @jetblackvheart @swagbirdmagazine @loves-characters @cheeseoflies @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @princessbetsy123-blog

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[simplyhale]

club classics j.a.

jack abbot x fem! reader

summary; after what was supposed to be your night off in weeks you are brought right back to the pitt. the only man that is able to help you afterwards is the one you've been hooking up with.

notes; divider is from @uzmacchiato they have stunning ones! do i think i'll probably do a part 2 to this? maybe? have i only been able to think about the pitt and the rookie for the past two months? yes. i couldn't stop listening to brat and thinking about jack abbot so here we are. i hope yall enjoy and let me know if yall would want to see the part 2 because it may or may not include smut.

words; 2394

gif cred;

— ｡⋆ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Tonight was your first night off in what felt like forever. Truly it had only been a week. But working nightshifts your internal clock was all messed up. You had finally been able to join your friends on a night full of club-hopping. Sweat marks all over your clothes . All the stress left your body, and your brain shut off. Instead, you just listened to loud pounding music that was filling every inch of your body. Allowing your body to move in ways that loosened your muscles like nothing else could.

Well not nothing else.

A part of you was sad that you wouldn’t be able to see him. But the voice saying you needed a break was much louder. Plus it was backed up with the reminder that you had his number, meaning if you really did want to see him, he was only a text away.

When I go to the club I wanna hear those club classics

Just as that thought was pushed to the back of your mind, the alcohol took over, sending you onto the dance floor with not a single care in the world. Correction: The only care was that the next song had to live up to the current one. 

But the Pitt had other plans.

It wanted you back one way or another.

You weren’t exactly sure how it started. Adrenaline had made the beginning all a blur. But when you came to, you were already on the other side of the bar top. grabbing a hold of one of the white bar rags. The screams and gasps went in one ear and out the other. You reached down to the bartender who had slid down the back wall holding his neck with a large glass shard poking out of it. “Don’t touch it!” His hand quickly moved from it, as blood had already started to pool. 

You held enough pressure against the space to try to slow the bleeding but not enough to move the shard. “Someone better be calling 9-1-1!” You shouted mostly meaning it towards your group.

“What the hell do you think we are, idiots!”

Your smile was cut short by the panicked man in front of you. bringing you right back into reality and sobering you up fully. “I’m an E.R. doctor. On the other side is a whole handful of other nurses and doctors. All I need to do is shout and they’ll be here.”

“The station is on the other block, and they said they’d be here in three minutes!”

“All you need to do from here to the hospital is focus on breathing, staying awake, and not moving a single muscle. You can do that for me, right?” He started to shake his head but quickly stopped when he remembered what you said. “Right bad word choice.”

The whole ride was a nightmare. Not only was his vitals dropping, but the paramedics decided to take the bumpiest route. When the two paramedics were wheeling him in you were straddling him, holding the shard steady while also trying to do one-handed compressions. Besides doing CPR to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” the only sound that actually registered in your head was Ellis' voice. “What the hell is she doing up there?”

“Y’all gunna keep on watching or actually help?” You remarked not taking your eyes off the glass. Knowing that if you moved it anymore then it would definitely hit something. You didn’t need to actually know if you were close or not. All the movement to get here was enough for you to know that it was too close for your liking.

“You heard her, trauma one!” Jack’s voice ordered, sending a new wave of energy through your body. 

Hearing an array of different voices around you call out different things. Hearing Jack saying who to call: ENT, Trauma, anesthesiologist. Ellis and Shen listed off all the different things they would need. It was seconds, or maybe minutes, before Walsh was coming through the double doors taking a look at him and you. Nothing was fully making its way to you. You were too busy with trying to get his heart to start beating again. 

That was until you heard his voice, cutting through thick muffled silence in your ears. “Give us the rundown.”

“I didn’t see how it happened but saw the remains of a shattered handle of vodka around him. Went through four different rags. As soon as we pulled in, I barely felt his pulse. It’s like the fucker knew or something.” you remarked, shaking your head, hearing him let out a small, airy laugh under his breath.

But you heard it.

Turning your attention back to the man's chest and see the grey wires and black wires coming out. Some were for an EKG and others were for his vitals. “Hold compressions.” His voice said as you did, holding the shard into place but at that moment, you let your fist unravel. The joints in your hand screamed for release. When one of the nurses announced he had a pulse, your body relaxed, not fully as the shard needed to stay put. “Thank god, you know how hard one-handed compressions are? Now how am I getting off without nicking anything?”

Eyes were now all on Abbot who nodded his head a few times, clearly trying to think through every solution he could as fast as he could. “Alright, Shen intubates after the sedatives kick in. If it's too hard to see, then we’ll go through the neck. Ellis will control the bleeding. You say what’s in your way, or what you need out of it. Hopefully Trauma finds their heads out of their asses and finds their way down here.” You didn’t need to look to know that Walsh was rolling her eyes at the comment, hearing her press buttons on her phone. 

“Great plan, except what about the person still on top of him?” 

Your attention was drawn over to your side where Jack was now leaning on the railing, dropping the metal down and out of the way. “I’m going to get you off, but you need to try and not move the shard.” 

Looking at him directly in his eyes, “I’m drunk not wasted, Doc.” He let out an airy laugh as he slowly wrapped his arms around your upper waist. The feeling of his cold skin against your hot skin started making your mind spiral. All the times tangled in between each other’s sheets. The mess of limbs on the couch for when the need for the other in that moment was stronger than the need to make it to the bed. You knew for a fact that Jack could hold you up. From the times he carried you into the bedroom with your legs around his waist. To the few times he had you against the wall, head buried in between your thighs and your fingers digging into his hair. 

“On three?” You nodded, his voice swiftly bringing you back. Loosening your grip of the glass, making sure it would stay in place as he counted. On three, he pulled you up, flesh against his chest, twisting the two of you to the side so everyone could at least get their hands into work. Moving his hands down to your waist, trying to keep you steady after your small wobble from side to side. It was like the rush of moving you had moved the remaining alcohol in your system and you were back to your nice buzz. 

“Come on, I’ll clean your hand.” He guided you to a private room with a hand steady on your lower back. 

Settling down at the foot of the white bed, watching as Jack went to the cabinets with a sink in the corner, gathering all the supplies he would need. Pulling the rolling stool over, he positioned the two of you so your leg was in between his. He placed everything onto the spot next to you. Taking your hands into his own and looking over it. His hand was cold, probably from all the times he had washed or used hand sanitizer on them. Compared to your warmth, thanks to the alcohol that was still in your system, your whole body felt warm. His hand was gently yet steady. Moving it back and forth in the light, seeing just how bad the damage was. “You got lucky,” He announced, rolling back and getting a bed pad. 

“Did I?” You held up your arm slightly upwards, trying to slow the blood flow. He raised his brows at you, not just the sight of you but your flirtatious tone. Pacing the pad onto his thigh, followed by your hand, causing heat to quickly flush your face. “Careful Doc, last time my hand was here, one thing lead to another. And then to another.” He smirked and you had to ground yourself to not jump onto him and kiss that smile.

At least not until he fixes your hand. A bit of silence passed as he brought the peri bottle up to view, “Want a count–”

“Just do it.” You cut him off, preparing yourself for the sting to come. His eyes watched you for a moment before looking down to your hand propped on his thigh.

When the clear liquid hit the tiny cuts your nails are gripped a hold of his shoulder. “Son of–” Your face scrunched up in pain, letting out a quiet hiss, trying not to yell a string of curse words that everyone could hear. “Aaanndd..” He strung out his words after double checking the wounds and giving it one or two more sprays. “And I’m done. You okay?” Your head was hung low, eyes shut as the sting pain started to dull out. Slowly opening your eyes to see you were eye level with him. He was waiting for you to answer, and wasn’t going to continue until you did. “Yeah, just forget how bad that stings.”

“Well, you already know what comes next so the worst part is over, right?” 

Slowly patting the few cuts you had on your fingers dry, applying some Neosporin onto them before slowly and carefully wrapping your fingers. All the while, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Not because you were watching him to make sure he did a good job. You were a four-year resident and knew by now that Jack Abbot  knew what he was doing.

It was the touchiness. 

Each touch was filling your veins with a buzz that had you squirming in your seat. Hopefully, he blamed it on you being just cold. Which you were. It was always set to below freezing in the ER.

The silence was loud. The buzzing of the overhead light mixed with your heart beating in your eardrums almost killed you. His silence did. Nothing on his face told you that he wasn’t into you. Nothing showed that you had read into the wrong signs. Everything the two of you had done was nothing but mutual hookups. 

Nothing more. 

He wasn’t even saying anything. He was just looking at you, still touching your skin. That’s when he gave you a sign. His hand that was holding your wrist slowly moved to hold your hand, feeling his thumb tracing your knuckles.

Licking your suddenly very dried lips, pressing them together before smiling at him. “Hopefully you still liked my outfit, even if my top is covered in blood.” His eyes slowly took you in, the fabric clung onto your body like it was just one size too small. But his eyes then settled on the large blood stain that covered half your stomach, a few streaks on your chest from where the drenched ends of your hair met the white fabric. “Yeah, I think we’re going to have to cut your shirt off. Wait here I’ll get you another.”

“Why? I have a spare shirt in my locker. Just cut this one off and I’ll get it and let you go back to the chaos.” You spoke, stopping him half way to the door.

Turning to face you, it was clear he wasn’t down with your plan. Tossing the trash he had balled up followed by his gloves. “You wanna walk out there, in front of all your colleagues, in a bra and micro shorts?”

You stood up slowly; the easiest way to not make everything in the room spin faster. Taking a few steps closer to him as you spoke. “Aw, you do listen to me after all!”

He pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath. “You act as if I’m walking out there naked. I’ve worn worse to the club.”

“To dance all night?”

Nodding your head with a toothy smile, “That’s right! Never gonna stop ‘til the morning light.”

Letting out yet another heavy sigh. Finally looking back at you after what felt like years. You didn’t realize until this moment how much you actually loved and craved that stare of his. “You make me fucking crazy, ya know that?”

Raising two hands up in defense, “Don’t blame me for your psychosis.”

“You are my psychosis.” He quickly bit back; taking another step forward, leaving only a single inch between the two of you. 

A beat passed; the two of you just looked at the other. Staring at the other. Waiting for the other to make the first move. Thanking the small amount of alcohol in your system you took the chance. “Say the word, Jack and this stops.” He looked at you almost making you deflate inside yourself. A tilt of his head with that stare of his had you shifting your weight onto the other leg. Leaning into you, his lips brushing against your ear. “No. This stops only when you say so,” His voice rasped against your skin. “This doesn’t even start until you say so.” Swallowing the sudden dry spot in the back of your throat. Looking over to where his face was, trailing your eyes from either one of his before looking down at his lips. Each look being followed by a hot and heated memory of the two of you together. Eyes suddenly back on him with a blink before opening your mouth. “So.”

[cvnt4him]

Izuku the type of guy to fuck u with his fingers and then lick them clean, and then go ahead and eat the whole pussy/dick because why not? also he's a freak but we've established that

this is old but I need to do them, also this is just DIVINE.

I can just imagine him offering you a "hand" when your stressed, being really gentle with you making sure you're okay with how he touches you, his fingers going in and out of you at a slow pace just for you. He watched you closely using the notes he's engraved in his head about you and the way you moved and moaned for him. Mostly it was small whimpers and the occasional roll of your eyes, all of it however had his pants growing tighter by the second.

Curling his fingers just right, pulling them out momentarily to bring a little extra attention to your clit/dick a deep groan would leave you at the sensitivity of the sudden stimulation making him whine himself, he can't help but to enjoy himself from your own pleasure. He wasn't even touching himself and he felt like he could cream in his pants. That would be just embarrassing though.... He hadn't done that since...well not that long ago. It happens more than he'd like to admit, but secretly he loves the filth.

He admired you from below, your legs wide open as he sat on your shared bedroom floor looking up at you with the sweetest love filled eyes. He was so horny for you, so excited to please you his poor cock was twitching against his dress pants. His thick cock being able to move such stiff clothing was such a sexy factor to you...his cock so nice and heavily adorned with beautiful veins and the cutest hue of a rose red to his fat mushroom tip.

The thought alone had you clenching around his fingers, the feeling of it sending a shiver down his spine. You were so close to coming at the deep feeling of his fingers stretching you out, not nearly close to how his cock would but you were ever so grateful. Izuku loved to touch you, to feel the way your sweet and soft insides squeezed around his fingers like they would his dick; but he grew to need more..

Now he wasn't selfish, he knew you needed to cum before he even thought about sticking his cock inside. Especially because he genuinely could cum at the first squeeze of you around him...it's happened one too many times for his liking. Izuku figured you could use a little more pleasure, maybe his fingers weren't giving you all that you needed before he fully penetrated you.

Izuku is a eater, he loves the taste of you. That being said, the second he slipped his fingers from your warm insides and let his fingers rest on his tongue; tasting your delicious flavor has him moaning and closing his eyes to savor your flavor. You were so close to coming, the empty feeling leaving you frustrated but the sight of him suckling his fingers dry of your essence, seeing the way he used his other hand to palm his thick bulge has you biting your lip and moaning yourself.

Your sweet sounds knocking him out of his own daze. He removed his fingers from his mouth and was quick to spread your legs once more and delving his tongue inside of you. Burying his face fully into you and inhaling deeply at your fresh scent. His tongue wandered inside of you, ensuring to touch and to lick at every inch of you he could reach. His tongue pulling out to lick a long stripe up your heat a rather whine filled moan leaving him as tears welled in his eyes.

He was growing more needy, rowdy even. He adored the way you tasted and it only turned him on more...he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out; but he promised himself, you, that he wouldn't fuck you until you'd cum.

He was quick to stick his tongue back inside flicking it at a fast pace causing you to gasp in surprise at the motion. Your back arching and hips bucking into his face, you were quick to grab and yank at his hair to pull closer to where you ached the most. He was happy to oblige for you. Moaning at the harsh tug to his head, he did his best for you. Applying just the right amount of pressure with his tongue inside and even adding his fingers in, sticking them inside then pulling them out to suck on them as if he was addicted and couldn't get enough of your taste.

Your eyes rolling into the back of your head causing a headache even. Your stomach was turning at the messiness in-between your thighs, you could feel the stickiness all over your inner thighs. His lower face was completely covered in your essence. Your juices all over his mouth and neck, but he couldn't even begin to care. He was in heaven and was absolutely enjoying himself.

He was trying his hardest for you, even edging you at one point only for you to yank his head up and scowl at him, he gasped dramatically as he stared at you with desperate lust controller eyes begging you to give him more. You couldn't help yourself but to scoff and push him back down, goodness you loved him.

Izuku went back down happily, moving his tongue fastly while his fingers were slow inside of you. Your velvet like walls against his tongue and fingers making him moan inside of your cunt, his sweet sounds being muffled as he stuffs his face deeper into you, his nose rubbing against your clit/(wtv)

Your orgasm comes crashing down onto you, izukus godsend tongue skills never letting up as you cum. You moan loudly triggering izukus own orgasm, he whines as his cock begins twitching inside of his pants cumming thick long globs of cum that bleeds through his dress pants that he wore to work.

Izukus breath shudders against your heat as he places a long messy kiss to you before finally pulling away from your twitching insides. He catches his breath and looks down to his soiled pants and groans to himself, unfortunately it doesn't go unheard. You look down to see cum dripping from his still hardened cock, his thick meat still jolting beneath his confining clothing.

He slowly turns his head up towards your gaze as you giggle down to him. He was so embarrassed...but not really, not even at all actually; he was far too horny to even begin to care, luckily for him you wanted him just as badly as he craved you.

he's such a freaky fuck, I also imagined this with him being more.....hungry but he would've been more...sadistic than I personally would've enjoyed at this very moment...so.

[edenarchives]

♯┆𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓! 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑.ᐟ — 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Life after the industry is sweet—until Bakugo gets an offer to go back. When he hesitates, you walk out… carrying a secret that changes everything.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: angst with a happy ending, implied past sex work, unplanned pregnancy, emotional hurt/comfort, soft makeup sex, begging, praise, consent-focused, creampie, reader throws up (morning sickness), crying, reader leaves briefly, Bakugo is a dumb boy who learns, extremely soft post-fight intimacy

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟗.𝟑𝐤

PART TWO

You weren’t sure what life would feel like after walking away from everything—the lights, the cameras, the noise. But somehow, it just… slowed down. In the best way.

You and Bakugo had been out of the industry for a few months now. No more early call times. No more scripts. No more wiping off fake sweat between takes or answering awkward fan questions about chemistry that wasn’t real.

This was real.

Waking up in the same bed every morning. Grocery shopping at weird hours because you forgot milk again. Fighting over what kind of laundry detergent to use and then fucking against the dryer before the load was even done. Real.

The money still sat in your account, untouched for the most part. He had more than enough saved, and you did too. And neither of you really talked about it, but you both knew it wasn’t about the money anymore. It was about being able to touch each other without someone yelling cut. About hearing him whisper mine into your skin and knowing it meant something.

The house was small, still half-furnished, still smelled like paint in the corners. But it was yours. It was home.

And every morning started the same.

With him.

Somewhere between the weight of his arm around your waist and the sound of birds outside the window, you always woke up like this—wrapped up in him, skin tangled with sheets that still smelled like the two of you. The house would be quiet. The air just a little cool. And for a few perfect minutes, neither of you had anywhere to be. No makeup to do. No lines to memorize. Just warmth, skin, and the steady rise and fall of his chest pressed against your back.

Sometimes he’d murmur something against your neck—half-asleep nonsense, soft and mumbled and way too sweet for someone who once used the words “tight little cunt” on camera like it was poetry.

Sometimes he didn’t say anything at all. Just held you.

And other times, like right now…

It would start with the feeling of his cock pressed right up against your ass, hard and heavy and twitching through his briefs, like he’d been dreaming about you again His arm is still around your waist, palm splayed wide and warm over your stomach, and his nose is buried in your neck, breath slow and steady. You don’t even open your eyes. Just smirk to yourself and shift your hips back, rubbing against him, slow and lazy, until he groans softly in his sleep.

You feel his hand twitch where it rests against your stomach, sliding a little lower, like his body’s already clocked in even if his mind hasn’t caught up yet. His fingers dip below your navel, brushing the waistband of your panties. You wiggle your hips again, a little bolder this time, grinding back against the thick shape of him until he groans again—louder this time, awake now, mouth brushing your skin as he shifts behind you.

“You tryna start something?” he mumbles, voice low and scratchy with sleep.

You smile. “You’re the one poking me.”

He groans, presses a kiss to your shoulder, and slides his hand down over your panties, cupping you fully. His voice is lower now, all gravel and hunger. “You’re already wet.”

“Maybe I had a good dream.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. “You always dream about me?”

“Only when you don’t hog the blanket.”

His hand slips under the waistband without warning, two fingers dragging through the slick heat between your thighs. He groans again, deeper now, fingers spreading you open like he owns it. “Fuck. You’re soaked.”

You shiver, breath catching as he teases your clit with lazy circles. “Then do something about it.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You want it like this? All slow and sleepy?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as he strokes you a little deeper. “Want you, Katsuki. Just like this.”

You feel his smile against your neck. Then his fingers are gone, and he’s tugging your panties down with one hand, pushing them down your thighs until you kick them off with a soft little whine. He presses himself up against you again, grinding slow against your ass, his cock rock-hard under the thin cotton of his briefs.

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Feel how bad I need you?”

You reach behind you, sliding your hand between your bodies, finding the waistband of his briefs and pushing them down just enough to free him. His cock presses hot and heavy against your bare skin now, and he groans at the contact, rolling his hips until he’s sliding between your thighs, not inside, just rubbing against your slick folds like he’s savoring it.

He doesn’t say anything for a second. Just breathes. You feel the weight of him behind you, wrapped around you, and the thick head of his cock dragging through your wetness slow and easy, again and again, until you’re writhing, your body aching to be filled.

“Please,” you whisper. “Katsuki, I need it.”

He pushes in without a word.

One long, deep stroke, slow enough that you feel every inch stretch you open, fill you up, sink into you like he’s molding himself to the shape of you from the inside out. Your mouth falls open. He groans into your shoulder, his hand gripping your waist like he’s holding on for dear life.

“God,” he rasps. “You always take me so fuckin’ good.”

You moan, soft and real, grinding your hips back to meet his next thrust. He moves slow at first, dragging out each roll of his hips like he wants to memorize the way you feel wrapped around him. His hand slides up to your chest, palm cupping your breast as he fucks you from behind, lazy and deep, breath hot against your neck.

The room is still dim, light barely leaking through the curtains, and the only sounds are his breath, your moans, the soft slap of skin on skin as he sinks into you over and over again.

“Can’t believe I get to wake up to this,” he mutters, lips against your ear. “To you.”

You whimper. “Katsuki—”

His hand drifts down between your legs again, fingers rubbing slow circles against your clit while he fucks into you, his rhythm never faltering. It’s too much and not enough, overwhelming and perfect all at once.

“You gonna cum for me?” he breathes. “This tight little pussy already clenching on me like she’s close.”

“Yes—fuck, yes—don’t stop—”

He grinds in deep, holds it there, fingers working you just right until you break with a soft cry, your body locking up as the orgasm crashes through you, pulsing around him in slow, aching waves. You hear him groan as you tighten around his cock, and he starts to move again, chasing his own high now, thrusts getting rougher, needier.

“Shit—baby—feels so fuckin’ good—”

You reach behind you, hand tangling in his hair, tugging him closer as he fucks into you harder, faster, until he’s gasping your name and spilling inside you, cock twitching deep as he groans into your neck.

The two of you stay there for a minute—sweaty, breathless, still tangled together, his cock still buried inside you, your skin sticky with heat and sweat and morning light.

Then he shifts, kissing your shoulder again, voice soft. “We’re disgusting.”

You smile. “Speak for yourself.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs. “You’re the one who begged for it.”

You hum, smug. “And I got it.”

He groans and flops onto his back, dragging you with him, letting you settle on top of him, his arms wrapping around your waist like he’s never planning to let go.

You press a kiss to his collarbone, his chest still rising and falling beneath you, warm and steady and safe.

This was everything.

Just you and him and the quiet, and nowhere to be.

Bakugo was still half-asleep beneath you, one hand drifting aimlessly up and down your back, the other tucked under your thigh where it had landed during round one and never left. His cock had softened inside you, but he hadn’t pulled out. You didn’t mind. You liked it like this—slow and messy and full of him. His cum already leaking out of you, cooling against your thighs, but neither of you moved. The sheets were ruined. You didn’t care.

He mumbled something against your hair, too quiet to catch, and you smiled into his chest.

“What?” you asked softly.

“I said,” he repeated, voice rough, “if we keep doing this every morning, we’re gonna go through bedsheets faster than groceries.”

You laughed into his skin. “Then stop cumming in me like a man with a breeding kink.”

He didn’t laugh. Just went still for a second.

You blinked, lifting your head. “I’m joking—Jesus, relax.”

He huffed, but you saw the way his eyes flicked down your body, lingering where you were still connected, sticky and flushed and warm. He didn’t say anything.

“You’re not getting all weird about that now, are you?”

“No,” he muttered.

“Because we’re being careful. And I’m not trying to be barefoot and pregnant with your demon spawn.”

That made him laugh—finally. A real one. Deep and low and warm in his chest. “Yet.”

You rolled your eyes. “Katsuki.”

He kissed you to shut you up, and you let him.

Eventually, you peeled yourselves out of bed and into the shower—half-cleaning, half-groping, ending with him pushing you up against the tile wall and fucking you again while the water ran cold.

By the time you both made it downstairs, it was almost noon.

Bakugo wore grey sweats, no shirt, towel-dried hair messy, and his usual morning scowl soft around the edges from sex and sleep. You were in one of his shirts and nothing else, legs still shaky as you climbed onto the counter while he made coffee.

You were halfway through stealing the last piece of sourdough when his phone buzzed on the kitchen island.

He ignored it at first, focused on trying not to burn the eggs again.

It buzzed again.

You glanced over. “Is that Keigo again?”

“Probably,” he muttered.

He reached for it anyway, flipping it open with one hand, balancing the spatula in the other. You watched his face shift as he scrolled—soft confusion, followed by that little furrow between his brows you knew too well. Not annoyed. Just focused.

“What?” you asked, mouth full.

He didn’t answer.

“Katsuki?”

He tilted the screen toward you.

You squinted at the message, chewing slowly.

An offer.

A comeback scene.

Big budget. New studio. New girl.

One-time shoot.

A rate so high you blinked twice just to make sure you weren’t reading it wrong.

You snorted. “That’s fake.”

“I don’t think it is,” he muttered.

“They must be desperate.”

He didn’t laugh.

You narrowed your eyes. “Wait. You’re not actually—”

“I’m just saying,” he said, still scrolling, tone too calm, too casual. “It’s a lot of money.”

You stared at him.

He looked back.

And something in your chest pulled tight.

“No.”

“I didn’t say yes,” he said quickly.

“But you’re considering it.”

“I’m just—thinking.”

You slid off the counter, toes hitting the cold tile, the hem of his shirt swishing around your thighs. “Thinking about sticking your dick in someone else?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

He set the phone down. “It’s a job.”

“Not anymore.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s not like I caught feelings for every scene partner I ever had.”

“It’s not about that anymore,” you snapped. “You’re mine.”

He flinched. Just slightly.

“I left the industry for you,” you said. “We both did. I gave up everything. And now you’re telling me what—we’re one big paycheck away from you crawling back into bed with some new girl for content?”

“It’s not about her.”

“Then what is it? Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re willing to throw everything away for a fucking cheque.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” he said sharply. “It’s a one-time thing.”

“And that makes it better?”

He looked at you then—really looked at you—and for the first time in weeks, he wasn’t soft.

He was calm. Cold.

Like a pro.

Like the guy he used to be.

Your chest ached.

You turned away. “I can’t believe you.”

“Baby—”

“No,” you said, voice low. “Don’t call me that right now.”

The silence hit heavy.

You walked out of the kitchen, footsteps slow, careful, arms crossed over your chest like you were holding yourself together.

He didn’t follow.

You made it to the bathroom, closed the door, sat on the edge of the tub. Your pulse was in your throat. Your head was spinning. You weren’t crying. Not yet. Not even angry.

Just… tired.

So tired.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, taking a deep breath.

And your stomach lurched.

You froze.

Swallowed.

And ran to the toilet just in time to throw up everything you’d eaten.

Your hands gripped the edge of the bowl. The tile was cold against your knees. The bitter taste in your mouth didn’t even register.

You stayed there, trembling, staring at the floor like it might give you answers.

It didn’t.

But something inside you already knew.

Not because of the nausea. Not even because of the skipped period you hadn’t really processed until right now.

But because of the way your body had changed this past week—tired all the time, sore in places that didn’t usually ache, the way your chest felt heavier in the mornings, and how certain smells made you gag for no reason.

And the way he looked at you lately—like something was glowing under your skin and he didn’t know how to name it.

You sat there on the cold tile floor, palms flat against your thighs, trying to breathe through the thought without breaking. It felt impossible. Like the second you gave it space, it would swallow you whole. This huge, terrifying thing growing in the corner of your mind like a secret you weren’t ready to say out loud.

Not even to him.

Especially not now.

Not when he was still in the kitchen.

Still standing there with his phone in his hand, thinking about fucking someone else for a paycheck.

You didn’t even blame him.

Not really.

You knew how much money that was. You knew what it meant to walk away from something like that, how many people would kill for even half that offer. You knew what it meant to be practical.

But you also knew how it would feel.

Watching him strip for someone else. Touch someone else. Pretend to want someone else. Even just for a day. Even just for a scene.

You’d spent years acting. Years pretending. But there was no pretending anymore. Not with him. You’d felt it the first time he touched you and again every time after—this wasn’t a job. Not anymore. It was real. Messy. Beautiful. Yours.

And now this.

Your stomach twisted again, but you didn’t move.

You just sat there, staring at the floor, until your breath finally evened out and your head stopped spinning.

Then, slow and quiet, you got up.

Washed your face. Brushed your teeth. Pulled on some soft shorts and tied your hair up like nothing was wrong.

And then you opened the drawer under the sink, where you’d stuffed a half-used box of pregnancy tests last year during a false alarm.

You stared at it.

Stared through it.

Then you grabbed one, unwrapped it, and sat back down on the toilet like your hands weren’t shaking.

The silence felt louder than it should.

Louder than the party music that used to pulse through your earpiece on set. Louder than the breathy moans you used to fake for the camera.

This was real.

This was just you.

And a little stick that would either ruin everything or explain it all.

You peed on it. Set it on the counter. Washed your hands.

Waited.

You didn’t pace. Didn’t look. Just stood there with your fingers braced against the counter, staring into the sink like you could fall into it.

You told yourself not to check too early. That two minutes wasn’t that long.

But thirty seconds in, you looked anyway.

And there it was.

One line.

Then another.

Faint. Pink. Obvious.

Positive.

The sound you made wasn’t even a gasp. It was quieter than that. A breath, stolen out of your lungs. A sob that never formed.

You sat down again, this time on the closed toilet lid, the test still shaking in your hands.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

Bakugo was downstairs, somewhere between scrambled eggs and a maybe-cheating debate, and you were upstairs, holding proof that your life was about to split in half.

You pressed a hand to your belly again.

There was nothing there yet. No bump. No flutters. No heartbeat you could feel.

But it was real.

This thing. This tiny, terrifying, impossible thing.

You didn’t cry.

Not yet.

You just sat there.

And realized you had no fucking idea what to do next.

And realized you had no fucking idea what to do next.

The test sat quiet on the counter like it wasn’t ruining your whole world. Just two pink lines. Faint, delicate, innocent. Like it hadn’t detonated a bomb in your chest.

You stared at it for another minute, hand still flat against your stomach, like you were trying to feel something. A flutter. A kick. A sign. But there was nothing. Just silence and the thick hum of panic under your skin.

You didn’t cry.

Didn’t scream.

You just… stood up. And started moving.

The house was quiet when you stepped out of the bathroom. Still smelled like toast and sex and expensive coffee grounds. You moved slow, careful, like one wrong step might make it all collapse.

He was still downstairs. You could hear him in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets like he was trying to stay busy. Like he was still mad. Still unsure. Still thinking about it.

You didn’t go to him.

You went to the bedroom.

Grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and pulled open the dresser drawers. You didn’t pack much. Just enough. A few outfits. Your charger. Your toothbrush. You weren’t running away. You just needed space. Time. Room to think without his voice in your ear or the weight of his silence in your bed.

You zipped the bag shut and stood there for a second, hand tight around the strap.

This wasn’t about punishing him.

It was about protecting yourself.

And something else now too.

You stepped into the hallway. Your feet felt like bricks. Every part of you wanted to crawl back into bed, pretend you hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t felt it. Hadn’t watched the man you loved seriously consider letting someone else touch him again like it was no big deal.

You made it halfway down the stairs before he saw you.

He looked up from where he stood near the counter, phone in one hand, coffee untouched in the other. His eyes dropped to the bag slung over your shoulder. And his whole body stiffened.

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Keigo’s.”

He blinked, slow. “What?”

“I texted him,” you said, voice quiet but steady. “He said I could stay a few nights.”

Bakugo set his coffee down, like the act of holding something suddenly felt impossible. “Why?”

You stared at him.

Waited.

Let him connect the dots himself.

And when he didn’t—when his silence stretched too long, too confused, too hurt—you gave him the only answer you had.

“Because I need to stay somewhere that doesn’t make me feel like I’m about to be cheated on for a cheque.”

His mouth opened. Closed. No sound came out.

You tightened your grip on the bag. “I love you. But I need you to really think about what you’re doing. About what it means to even consider it. Because if this is something you’re still on the fence about, then I can’t be here while you figure it out.”

His jaw tensed. “You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust this version of you,” you whispered. “The one that looks at money and forgets what we built.”

The pain on his face flickered fast, like he didn’t want you to see it—but you did. You saw all of it. The confusion. The guilt. The way his hands curled into fists like he wanted to fix it, but didn’t know how.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything else.

You turned.

Walked toward the door.

And before you stepped out, you paused, one hand on the handle, your voice soft.

“I’ll be at Keigo’s if you decide that I’m worth more than a fucking paycheck.”

Then you were gone.

And the door closed behind you.

The door closed behind you.

The air outside was cooler than you expected, your breath catching a little in your chest as you walked down the driveway. You didn’t have a plan past this. Just the bag slung over your shoulder and the phone in your hand, screen dark and heavy like it knew what you were about to do.

You hadn’t actually texted Keigo.

You said it like you had, like it was settled, like your best friend who sometimes slept until noon and always forgot to charge his phone would definitely be available for some kind of emotional bed-and-breakfast situation.

But you hadn’t sent the message.

Because you hadn’t known what to say.

And because when everything cracked open inside you, the only place that felt remotely safe wasn’t a hotel, or a friend with a couch, or your sister two cities over.

It was Keigo.

Of course it was Keigo.

He was the only person who knew what this world had been like for you. What the job had meant. What it had cost. He’d seen you on your best and worst days. Had filmed with you when your hands were shaking and kissed your forehead before scenes when you were too anxious to fake it. He’d seen you fall in love with Bakugo even before you realized you had.

So when your thumb hovered over his name, you didn’t write a long explanation. You didn’t even say anything dramatic.

You just texted:

“Are you home?”

He responded in thirty seconds.

“Always.”

You blinked away the burn behind your eyes and typed back:

“I’m coming over.”

And that was it.

No questions.

No judgment.

And when you got there, he opened the door before you even knocked.

His hair was a mess, blonde tufts sticking in every direction, sweatpants slung low on his hips and an old band tee hanging loose over his chest. He had a toothbrush in one hand and a protein bar in the other, like he’d been mid-bite when he saw your name pop up and forgot how to function after.

His eyes swept over you, down to the duffel bag, and back up.

He blinked.

“You look like shit.”

You let out a quiet laugh that broke halfway through. “Thanks.”

He stepped aside. “Get in here.”

The second the door closed behind you, the weight hit you all at once. Your chest tightened. Your throat burned. But you didn’t cry. You just stood in the entryway while Keigo locked the door behind you, his movements quiet, slow, careful.

He turned around. Didn’t push. Didn’t ask.

Just held out his arms.

And you stepped right into them.

No words. No explanations.

His body was warm. Familiar. The way he held you—arms wrapping tight, chin resting on your head, it didn’t feel romantic. It didn’t even feel fragile.

It felt like safety.

You didn’t know how long you stood there. Long enough for your breath to even out. Long enough to stop shaking.

Eventually, he pulled back, hands still on your arms.

“You hungry?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“You wanna shower?”

Another shake.

“You wanna talk?”

You hesitated. Then whispered, “Not yet.”

He nodded. “Cool. I got like five types of ice cream and a couch with your name on it.”

You smiled. Small. Tired.

“Also, I’m watching that trashy dating show you hate.”

You groaned. “Of course you are.”

“I’m doing you a favor. Lowering your standards before you crawl back to your man.”

You stiffened. He caught it.

His eyes softened.

“Hey,” he said gently. “I’m not judging. I just know you love that idiot.”

You didn’t answer.

He didn’t push.

He just took your bag, pointed toward the living room, and said, “You’re on blanket duty. I’ll be there in five.”

You sank onto the couch, pulling the throw over your lap, curling into the cushions like they might hold you together.

Your hand drifted to your stomach again. Light. Careful. Protective.

You didn’t know what was going to happen next.

But at least for tonight—you weren’t alone.

Keigo didn’t hover.

He didn’t ask why you showed up at his door with a bag and puffy eyes. Didn’t pry when you curled into the couch under the throw blanket like your body was trying to disappear. He just dropped onto the other end, grabbed the remote, and turned on whatever trash he’d been watching before you showed up. Something dramatic. Loud. Ridiculous.

You let it play.

For a while, neither of you talked. He didn’t need to. You weren’t ready. And he knew that.

You sat there in silence, the glow of the TV washing over the room in soft colors while some girl on screen cried over a man named Bryce who’d definitely slept with her best friend.

Keigo clicked his tongue. “Messy.”

You snorted without meaning to.

His eyes flicked to you.

He grinned. “There she is.”

You rolled your eyes and hugged the blanket tighter.

After another minute, he shifted suddenly, sitting up a little straighter.

“You know what, bitch?” he said, tone way too enthusiastic for someone wearing socks with holes in them. “I got just the thing for you.”

You raised a brow. “Keigo—”

“Nope. Don’t talk. Let me fix you.”

“You’re not fixing anything.”

He was already on his feet, waving a dismissive hand as he wandered toward the kitchen. “Shut up and mourn your toxic man in peace. I’ll be right back.”

You smiled despite yourself. That dumb, warm little twist in your chest that only came from someone who knew you too well. You sank back into the couch, head tipping against the cushion, letting the sounds of the show fill the room while he clattered around in the kitchen.

Drawers opened. Something clinked. The fridge door squeaked.

A few minutes later, he reappeared—two wine glasses in hand, both filled with a generous pour of deep red.

You blinked.

He held one out to you. “To men being trash.”

You stared at the wine glass.

Didn’t take it.

Your throat started to close.

Your chest got tight.

And before you could stop it—your face crumpled.

Keigo blinked. “Wait—what?”

You shook your head, covering your face with one hand, and the tears started spilling fast. Quiet, but heavy. You tried to breathe through it, tried to wave him off, but it was too late.

He sat down quick, the wine still in his hands. “Shit—what’d I do? What happened?”

You couldn’t speak at first.

Just buried your face in your palms and choked on the words.

Keigo’s voice gentled. “Hey. It’s okay. You don’t have to—just breathe, babe. You’re alright. I’m here.”

“I’m not mad about the wine, I swear,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I just—I can’t have it.”

Keigo stared at you.

Then stared at the wine.

Then back at you.

And his whole face shifted.

“…oh shit.”

Without another word, he placed both wines down and then picked up your untouched glass and poured the whole thing into his. Set the empty one aside like it had betrayed you both.

You laughed, messy and wet.

He leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees, face open. “Tell me everything.”

So you did.

You told him about the morning. About waking up wrapped in Bakugo like nothing had changed. About how perfect it had been, how happy you’d felt—until that email. Until Bakugo had looked at a number on a screen and hesitated.

You told him about the offer. The girl. The way he didn’t say no. How your heart had split in two while he stood there quiet, calculating.

You told him about the fight. About the way Bakugo looked at you—professional. Like he’d stepped back into a version of himself you thought he’d buried.

You told him you threw up. Took a test. Watched the second pink line appear like it had been waiting for this exact moment to fuck you up.

By the time you finished, your hands were in your lap and Keigo was quiet beside you, one elbow propped on the couch, wine glass forgotten.

He didn’t say anything for a while.

“Goddamn.”

You exhaled. “Yeah.”

He shook his head, blowing out a soft breath. “I’m not gonna lie, I kinda wanna punch him.”

You almost smiled. “I know.”

“But I also know him,” he added. “And I know that if he’d seen that test first? He would’ve lost his goddamn mind.”

You looked down. Your voice went quiet. “But he didn’t.”

Keigo didn’t argue.

Didn’t defend him.

He just shifted closer, nudged your knee with his. “You gonna tell him?”

“I don’t know.”

“You want him to know?”

You hesitated.

And in the silence, Keigo just nodded, like he understood even that.

He leaned back into the couch and took a sip of the wine he definitely didn’t want anymore. “Well,” he said. “Until you do, this couch is yours. So’s the ice cream.”

You snorted. “You said that like it was a prize.”

“Have you seen my freezer?”

You laughed, properly this time, and wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “Thanks, Kei.”

“Anytime.”

He bumped your shoulder with his, lazy and gentle.

And the two of you sat like that—half-curled into each other, trash TV still playing in the background, a full glass of wine untouched on the table—and for the first time all day, you felt like maybe, just maybe, everything might not fall apart after all.

The next morning came too early.

You hadn’t really slept, just drifted in and out between half-dreams and the glow of Keigo’s TV. He’d stayed up with you, never pushing, just letting you exist. At some point he fell asleep at the other end of the couch, one leg kicked over the armrest, mouth half-open, blanket tangled around his waist like he’d wrestled a ghost in his sleep.

You sat up slowly, hair a mess, hoodie slipping off one shoulder. Your hand dropped to your stomach before you even thought about it. Just a soft touch. A check-in.

Still real.

Still terrifying.

You didn’t know how to feel. You weren’t ready to be a mom. But you were even less ready to walk back into that house and face a man who looked at you like a choice instead of a certainty.

Keigo stirred with a groan. “God, my spine is broken.”

You snorted. “You did that to yourself.”

He opened one eye and smirked. “I do everything to myself. But you—you look a little less haunted. That’s a win.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “It’s the pregnancy glow.”

He gagged dramatically and rolled off the couch.

You spent the rest of the day like that—floating in a weird limbo of cozy clothes, bad food, and Keigo pretending he wasn’t watching you like a hawk when you stood too still or stared too long at nothing. He didn’t ask again. Just sat with you. Waited.

But Bakugo didn’t text.

Didn’t call.

Didn’t show up.

And it hit harder than you wanted it to.

The second day passed slower. Keigo dragged you to the corner store, forced you into a cart like a toddler, and tossed prenatal vitamins into your basket when he thought you weren’t looking. You said nothing. Let him. It was easier than explaining how you hadn’t bought them yet because part of you still wasn’t ready to accept this was really happening.

That night, you fell asleep curled into the couch again, Keigo’s blanket pulled over your head like you could hide from the world.

Meanwhile—

Bakugo sat on the edge of your shared bed, phone in his hand, staring at your last message like he could will it to say something different.

You’d been gone for two days.

He hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten. The house smelled like nothing. Like empty space. Like you’d never been there at all.

He’d cleaned the kitchen three times. Took the trash out even though it was barely full. Sat on the couch with the TV on mute for hours, watching the screen without seeing a thing.

And the offer?

Still sitting in his inbox.

He hadn’t opened it since you left.

Hadn’t touched it.

Hadn’t deleted it either.

He didn’t know what to do.

He fucked up. That part was obvious. The second your eyes filled with tears and your voice cracked when you said “I need to stay somewhere that doesn’t make me feel like I’m about to be cheated on for a cheque,” something in him snapped in half.

He wasn’t gonna do it. He wasn’t.

But he hadn’t said that.

He froze. Stupid. Thought about the number. The money. The “what ifs.” He hesitated—and you saw that. You felt that.

And now?

Now you were gone.

He looked around the room and realized how quiet everything felt without you. How still. How wrong.

Your charger was still plugged in beside the bed.

Your hair tie was still looped around the doorknob of the bathroom.

Your robe still hung on the hook.

He stood up suddenly, like the silence was suffocating him, and grabbed his keys without thinking. He needed to move. Needed to breathe. He didn’t even know where he was going until he was already outside.

Across town, Keigo was cleaning up dinner when his phone buzzed.

He glanced at it once.

Then again.

Then sighed.

“Hey,” he called toward the living room. “You decent?”

“Why?”

“Someone’s here.”

You looked up from the blanket nest you’d made on his couch.

Your stomach dropped.

Keigo opened the door before you could move.

And there he was.

Katsuki Bakugo.

A mess.

Sweatpants. Hoodie. Hair a wreck. Eyes red like he hadn’t slept since you left. He looked past Keigo immediately, eyes scanning the living room until they landed on you.

His whole body stilled.

Your heart slammed in your chest.

Keigo crossed his arms. “You lost?”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched. “She here?”

“You gonna do something stupid if I say yes?”

He didn’t answer.

Keigo looked back at you.

You were frozen.

Not ready.

But you nodded.

Just once.

Keigo stepped aside.

Bakugo stepped in.

And the room felt like it couldn’t hold both of you at once.

You sat there curled up on Keigo’s couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, blanket tucked to your chin like you were trying to hide in plain sight. You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared at him with wide, quiet eyes—like the sight of him hurt and you didn’t have the energy to pretend it didn’t.

He looked the same as he did the night you left. Except worse.

Hoodie rumpled. Hair a mess. Jaw tight like he hadn’t unclenched it since you slammed the door behind you. His hands were in his pockets, like he didn’t trust them not to reach for you. His voice cracked when he finally said your name.

You blinked.

Didn’t say anything.

He shifted his weight, like he didn’t know where to stand. “I opened that offer. I saw it. We both did.”

Your gaze dropped to the blanket.

“But I need you to know that when I saw the offer, I didn’t hesitate because I wanted to touch her or because I wanted to fuck someone else. I haven’t wanted anyone but you in months. You know that.”

Still, you said nothing. You didn’t argue.

He took a step forward, slow and careful.

“You left,” he said, softer now. “And I get why. I fucked up. You needed me to be certain and I hesitated. I looked at a number instead of looking at you. And I’ll regret that for the rest of my fucking life.”

Your throat bobbed.

“But I’m here,” he said. “I’m here now, and I’ll keep being here until you decide if you want me back.”

You shifted slightly, curling tighter into yourself. “It wasn’t just the job, Katsuki.”

His whole body froze. “What?”

“It was how easy it felt for you to think about it. Like everything we walked away from didn’t mean as much to you as it did to me.”

He looked like you’d slapped him.

You swallowed. “You said it was just acting. But it’s not just acting to me anymore. I thought we were past that. I thought we were building something real.”

“We are.”

Your voice dropped. Barely a whisper. “Then why did it feel so fake that day?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

No answer.

You finally looked up at him again. Your eyes were tired. Sad. He saw the pain in them, the kind that ran deep, old and new all tangled together—and still, you hadn’t told him the truth.

He had no idea that what you were really asking was “Can I trust you to be a father?”

“Can I trust you not to choose your past over our future?”

But you couldn’t say it yet. Not while it still hurt like this.

He stepped closer. Sat on the coffee table in front of you so he wasn’t towering over you anymore. His knees brushed the edge of the blanket.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he said, voice low. “But I’ll do whatever it takes. I mean that.”

You stared at him, your heart thudding so loud you could barely hear yourself think.

But your lips parted anyway.

And all you said was, “Okay.”

Not forgiveness. Not a welcome.

Just that.

And he nodded.

Didn’t smile. Didn’t breathe easy.

Just sat there.

Like a man waiting for permission to hope.

You stared at him.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t beg.

Just waited—like if you breathed too hard, it might all disappear.

You should’ve been angry still. Should’ve made him sit in it longer. But something in you shifted when you saw his face tonight. The way he walked in, quiet and wrecked, like he hadn’t slept. The way he spoke, slow and steady, like he’d rehearsed every word a thousand times just to get it right for you.

“I wanna go home,” you said softly.

He blinked.

You stood up, letting the blanket fall from your lap, hoodie sleeves still swallowed around your hands. “If we go home, will you come with me?”

Bakugo stood before the last word left your mouth. “Yeah. Yeah—of course.”

You didn’t touch each other. Didn’t say anything else. Just turned and walked toward the kitchen where Keigo was pretending not to eavesdrop behind the fridge door.

He looked up when you stepped in.

“You leaving?” he asked, already knowing.

You nodded. “Thanks for letting me hide out.”

“You can always come back,” he said, grinning like he hadn’t been secretly worried about you this entire time. “Just don’t wait ‘til you’re pregnant with twins next time, yeah?”

You choked.

Bakugo stiffened beside you.

Keigo froze.

A beat of silence passed—too long.

“…wait,” he said slowly, eyes bouncing between you two. “Does he not—”

You stepped on his foot, hard.

He yelped. “Okay! Cool! Goodbye! Don’t be strangers!”

Bakugo squinted. “What the fuck was that?”

“Nothing,” you said too quickly. “He’s just being annoying.”

“…right.”

You hugged Keigo tight, whispered a quick thank you, and turned before he could say anything else.

Bakugo didn’t say much on the way out. Just kept close, held the car door open, rested his hand on the back of your seat the whole drive home like he needed the contact even if you didn’t reach for him.

When you got back to the house, the porch light was still on. Like it had been waiting for you.

You stepped inside first. The air smelled the same—soft laundry, old coffee, faint vanilla from the candle you forgot to blow out the last morning you were here.

It hit you all at once.

The familiarity.

The comfort.

The ache.

You dropped your bag at the door and turned around just as Bakugo closed it behind him.

You stared at each other for a moment in the quiet.

He stepped forward. “Do you want space?”

You shook your head. “I just want to go to bed.”

He nodded once.

No questions.

No pressure.

Just followed you into the bedroom, moving like he was afraid to touch anything too hard in case it broke.

You didn’t curl into him that night. Didn’t kiss him. But you let him sleep in the same bed. And he didn’t ask for anything more.

He just laid there beside you, quiet, breathing, waiting.

And you knew tomorrow, you’d have to tell him everything.

But not tonight.

Tonight, you just needed to be home.

The next morning, the light crept in slow.

You felt it on your face before you opened your eyes—warm and golden, filtering through the curtains like nothing bad had ever happened here. For a second, you forgot everything. Forgot the fight. The offer. The bag you’d packed in a hurry and the two nights you spent curled on Keigo’s couch like you’d forgotten how to breathe.

You just felt warm.

And then you felt him.

Bakugo’s arm was draped over your waist, heavy and protective, fingers resting just above the curve of your stomach. His face was buried in your neck, breath slow and even, like he’d finally slept for the first time in days. You didn’t remember shifting into him during the night. Didn’t remember turning toward him or letting him in—but it didn’t surprise you.

Because this was always the part that made sense.

This.

Him.

You shifted slightly under the covers and felt his grip tighten.

His voice was soft, still sticky with sleep. “You leavin’ again?”

You shook your head. “No.”

He hummed and pulled you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder.

And for a moment, you let yourself have it. That quiet, sleepy closeness. The kind you used to take for granted.

But it didn’t last.

The nausea came fast.

Violent.

You tensed under his arm and swallowed hard. That heavy weight in your stomach twisted, flipped—and suddenly the room was spinning.

You sat up quickly.

Bakugo’s arm dropped. “What’s—”

You didn’t answer.

Just bolted.

The sound of your bare feet hitting the floorboards was loud in the silence, followed by the bathroom door swinging open and the unmistakable retching that echoed right after.

Bakugo was up immediately.

“Shit—baby?” His voice was frantic now. Half-asleep panic. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

You were too busy gripping the toilet, your whole body trembling as everything you had in you came back up.

Bakugo was at your side in seconds. Hand on your back, the other pulling your hair gently out of your face. You felt him settle next to you on the tile, warm and solid and there.

“You’re sick?” he asked, voice low and careful.

You didn’t look at him.

Just wiped your mouth with shaking fingers and whispered, “No.”

He paused.

“…Then what is it?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

The words hovered at the edge of your throat, caught somewhere between fear and inevitability.

Then you whispered:

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Not long. Not loud.

But deafening.

You finally looked at him.

He was already staring at you.

And the expression on his face was unreadable.

Not scared.

Not angry.

Just—stunned.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

His voice came quiet.

“You’re…?”

You nodded.

He stared at your face. Then your stomach. Then back again.

And then he exhaled—like he’d been holding his breath for days.

“Fuck.”

You braced yourself for panic. For questions. For him to stand up and walk out or shut down completely like he used to when the pressure got too loud.

But he didn’t.

He just reached out—slowly—and rested his palm over your stomach. Barely touching. Just enough to feel something that wasn’t there yet.

“You’re pregnant,” he said again, softer this time. Like it was finally sinking in.

Your breath hitched.

And then, in the smallest voice you’d made in a long time, you said, “I was going to tell you. I just… I didn’t know how.”

He looked up at you then, eyes wide and full of something you couldn’t name.

“You should’ve told me the second you knew.”

“I wanted to.”

“So why didn’t you?”

You swallowed hard. “Because you were still deciding if I was worth more than a fucking paycheck.”

That shattered something in him.

And he didn’t defend himself.

Didn’t say a word.

He just looked at you like he’d never hated himself more.

But you didn’t move.

You didn’t stand up or pull away or shove his hand off your stomach. You just stayed right there on the cold tile floor, knees drawn up, hoodie sliding down your shoulder, throat tight with everything you’d been holding in for days.

Bakugo didn’t move either.

His hand stayed right where it was—resting over the soft curve of your belly. There was nothing to feel yet. No bump. No movement. Just skin. Just potential.

But the way he touched you…

It wasn’t casual.

It wasn’t unsure.

It was reverent.

His thumb stroked a small line over your hoodie, like he was trying to memorize this moment. Like he was afraid if he blinked, it would disappear.

“I didn’t know,” he said, voice rough. “Fuck. I didn’t know.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“If I’d known…”

You looked at him. Really looked at him.

And he fell quiet.

You didn’t need him to finish the sentence.

Because you knew.

He would’ve slammed the laptop shut. Would’ve deleted the offer. Would’ve gotten on his knees and begged if he had to. You knew that. Deep down, you always did.

But it didn’t change the fact that he hesitated without knowing.

And that still hurt.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you said, voice shaking. “You looked at me like I was asking too much. Like loving me wasn’t enough.”

His hand curled a little tighter.

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “I never wanted to make you feel like that.”

You blinked back tears. “Well, you did.”

He nodded, jaw tight, and didn’t argue. Didn’t try to make it pretty.

He just sat there on the floor with you, looking like someone who’d been punched in the chest and didn’t want to move in case the pain got worse.

And then, so quietly you barely heard it, he said:

“Are you keeping it?”

You looked down at his hand on your stomach.

And nodded.

His breath left him in one slow exhale, like he’d been bracing for the answer to break him.

“Okay,” he said.

You blinked. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re doing this.”

You stared at him.

“I’m not letting you do it alone,” he added. “No matter what happens. I’m in.”

You swallowed hard. “Katsuki…”

His eyes met yours. “I love you.”

There was no shake in his voice this time. No hesitation. Just those three words, clear and grounded and real.

You reached for him without meaning to—fingers curling into the front of his hoodie—and he moved instantly, arms wrapping around you, holding you to his chest like he didn’t care how raw it still was between you.

You buried your face in his shoulder.

And for the first time since you saw those two pink lines…

You let yourself cry.

He didn’t say a word.

Just held you.

One hand on your back.

The other still resting on your stomach.

He held you for a long time.

Just sat there on the bathroom floor with you in his arms, the morning light spilling across the tiles, his palm warm and steady over your stomach. You cried into his shoulder—quiet, messy, not loud enough to echo. He didn’t shush you. Didn’t rush you. He just stayed.

Present. Gentle. Real.

Eventually, your tears faded into soft breaths, your fingers still curled into the front of his hoodie. His cheek rested against the top of your head. Neither of you moved.

Then—his voice, low and quiet:

“Come back to bed?”

You nodded.

He helped you up without letting go, one hand guiding you, the other still cradling your hip like he was afraid you might break if he touched you too hard. You let him lead you back to the bedroom, both of you silent, moving slow, your legs a little shaky but your heart finally starting to settle.

The sheets were still warm. Familiar. You climbed in first, slid under the blanket, curled toward the center like muscle memory. He followed, slower, more cautious. Laid beside you on his side, facing you, eyes soft and searching.

His fingers trailed up your waist like he was trying to remember you all over again—every curve, every freckle, every part of you he thought he might’ve lost. You laid there beneath him, skin bare, eyes soft, heart cracked wide open. You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. He was already listening to every shift in your breath, every quiet sound that slipped from your lips like music he couldn’t go another second without hearing.

He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were still here. Like he didn’t deserve it.

His fingers lifted, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded.

“Tell me if anything feels wrong, okay? I mean it.”

“I will.”

He leaned in, slowly, giving you a chance to pull back. You didn’t. You met him halfway, lips brushing his in a soft, tentative kiss that melted into something deeper the second his hand found your waist.

He kissed you slowly, like the world had stopped spinning just for this.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You nodded. “I need you.”

His lips brushed yours again, and again, before he moved lower—down your neck, over your collarbone, dragging his mouth across your chest as his hands slid down your sides. His thumb traced the underside of your breast, gentle, reverent, before he cupped you in his palm and kissed the soft skin there, breathing against you like a prayer.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured, tongue flicking over your nipple, then sucking it into his mouth until you gasped and arched into him. He stayed there for a moment, his other hand massaging your hip, grounding you, letting your body respond in its own time.

You moaned softly, your thighs already shifting beneath him, breath shaky as his kisses dragged lower, over your ribs, your stomach—pausing for a second at the soft skin just beneath your navel.

He glanced up, hand stroking your thigh now. “Is this okay?”

You reached for him, your fingers threading through his messy blonde hair, voice soft but certain. “Please.”

He settled between your thighs like he’d been craving it. His hands slid under your knees and pushed them open just a little more, spreading you for him with a careful gentleness that made you melt. He didn’t rush—just stared for a second, lips parted, breath shallow.

“Fuck,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe this was still his. “You’re already wet.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Katsuki, please.”

He leaned in slowly and licked a slow, teasing stripe up your center, groaning low in his throat like he was getting high off the taste of you. You gasped, hips twitching, and he wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you steady, flattening his tongue and dragging it over you again—circling your clit in soft, slow swirls until your back arched and a shaky moan spilled from your lips.

“That feel okay?” he murmured, voice thick.

You nodded fast. “Yes, fuck—yes.”

He smiled against you and dove back in, mouth working you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had your whole body trembling. He licked and sucked, tongue curling against your clit, then dipping down to tease your entrance before fucking you with it shallowly—slow, lazy strokes that made your thighs quiver around his head.

Your hands stayed tangled in his hair, pulling gently, fingers tightening every time he groaned into you. You could feel it building fast—tight, hot pressure rolling through your core like a wave about to crash.

“Katsuki—I’m—”

“Come for me,” he rasped, his voice thick and low and full of heat. “Wanna feel you cum on my tongue.”

You broke.

Your whole body tensed, thighs shaking, a cry escaping your lips as you came hard—pulsing against his mouth, hips bucking gently as he kept licking you through it, slower now, gentler, letting you ride it out while he murmured soft praises against your skin.

“Good girl… that’s it… fuck, you’re perfect.”

You were still panting, vision swimming, when he kissed his way back up your body—slow, wet kisses up your stomach, your chest, your neck—until he was hovering over you again, face flushed, eyes heavy with want.

He brushed your hair back from your face, cupped your cheek.

“You still okay?” he asked, voice so tender it made your chest ache.

You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in.

“I want you inside me.”

He groaned, forehead pressing to yours. “Tell me if it’s too much. I’ll stop.”

“I know.”

You reached down between your bodies and guided him to your entrance, and the moment he pushed in—slow, thick, deep—you both gasped.

You were still so wet from his mouth that he slid in smooth, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt, panting against your mouth like he was holding back everything he had.

“Fuck—” he hissed. “You feel so good. So fuckin’ good.”

He didn’t move right away.

Just stayed there, cock buried deep, one hand holding your hip, the other cupping your face while he kissed you again—long, slow, passionate.

Then he started to move.

Slow, deep thrusts, hips rolling into yours with perfect pressure, every movement dragging his cock along your walls just right. You moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his back as he fucked you with so much care it almost didn’t feel real.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Always.”

“Yours,” you breathed. “Only yours.”

He kept moving like he was making love to every piece of you. No rush. No greed. Just deep strokes and soft moans and the occasional whispered “I love you” against your skin that made your heart ache as much as your body did.

You felt the second wave building slow and heavy, tightening deep in your belly, and he felt it too—how your walls fluttered around him, how your legs tightened around his waist.

“I got you,” he panted. “Let go, baby. I got you.”

You came again with a broken moan, this one quieter, sweeter, your body curling into his as you clenched around him, crying out softly as the pleasure rolled through you.

He groaned and buried himself deep, hips stuttering once, twice, before he spilled inside you with a soft, desperate sound—forehead pressed to yours, hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go.

You stayed tangled like that.

Sticky. Shaky. Whole.

And when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, both of you breathless and warm and a little overwhelmed, he kissed your cheek and whispered—

“We’re gonna be okay.

And just like that, the part of you that had been holding its breath… exhaled.

TAGS: @2elusional @cosmicaoii @kizsuki @kodzubaby

[jaesblogstuff]

Nature’s Disguise

┃An escape, retreat. (smut in the mix)

He needed to get away.

Not from you—never from you—but from everything else. The grind, the orders, the noise. The team could handle a week without him. Price didn’t even blink when he said, “Got somewhere to be. Just me and the bird.”

They all assumed it was somewhere hot, maybe near the water, somewhere the both of you could drink and sleep and disappear.

They had no idea it was a hidden lodge in the hills of Switzerland (a dream really). A place so deep in the woods that the nearest neighbor was half a mile out, and even they only showed up once a season.

He chose it because of you. Because somewhere along the way, between the shootouts and the silence, he’d realized you were building your own little world inside the apartment—one plant at a time.

Every time you said you were “just running errands,” you’d return with arms full of green. Sunlight catchers. Ceramic pots. Creeping vines, blooming things, leaves that touched the ceiling now. You talked to them like they were your babies. And he loved it.

He’d watched it happen without saying a word. Then quietly, without telling you, found a place where the world matched the one inside your head.

And when he brought you there—when he opened the door to a hand-built lodge tucked into the trees, with windows that stretched from floor to sky and the scent of pine wrapped in the wind, he didn’t say this is for you. He just watched your eyes soften, and smiled.

But that’s only half of it.

The other half, the one no one else would understand, is that he brought you out here so he could love you fully. Loudly. Shamelessly.

So he could touch you like you deserved.

So he could fuck you like he was made to.

And out here, where no one could hear, he did.

He kept his promise.

⸻

You don’t remember which night it was, the second? The third? But you remember the way he looked at you from across the kitchen, shirtless, drinking red wine and leaning against the counter with that low, heavy heat in his eyes.

You remember him walking toward you slow, like a man who had nowhere else to be but here, between your legs, on his knees, in your throat.

He took you apart in that soft, sprawling bed until your legs trembled. Until your nails left marks on his back. Until you could barely speak.

He fucked you with his mouth first. Long, slow drags of his tongue, groaning into you like he’d starved for weeks. Then his fingers. Then his cock.

Deep. Unrelenting.

Each thrust pulled another sound from your lungs until you were clawing at the sheets, moaning brokenly, barely able to cry out his name.

And even then, he hadn’t stopped. Hadn’t let up. Had only leaned down, kissed the corner of your jaw, and whispered, “I want to hear you again. Louder. C’mon, love—let me have it.”

And you gave it to him.

Every breath. Every whimper. Every shattered cry of Simon, please—

Until the next morning, when you woke up and couldn’t say a damn thing.

⸻

He took care of you after that.

No teasing. No smugness. Just quiet pride and careful hands.

You hadn’t raised a finger since the trip started.

He’s cooked every meal—woke before you just to slice fresh fruit and make you coffee. He’s drawn your baths with lavender oil. Rough hands, gentle touch, he creamed your skin in silence, like worship.

And in the quiet of the pool out back—surrounded by nothing but pines and wind and late spring sun, he kisses you like the world ended and only you two made it out.

Slow. Careful. Like you’re something ancient and sacred.

You float, legs around his waist, while he holds you against his chest, the water warm and still.

You try to whisper something; something like thank you, or I love you, or even just his name, but it’s still not there. Your voice, completely shot.

He smiles, presses a kiss to your throat.

“S’alright,” he murmurs. “I know what you’re saying.”

And then, quieter, against the shell of your ear:

“If this is all we ever had, I’d be just fine.”

Because for the first time in forever, the world is silent.

And it’s just the two of you.

Just how he wants it.

i hate this, kinda

[undiagnosedcruelty]

“You Talk in Your Sleep”

Pairing: Bf!HanJisung x GenderNeutral!Reader

Summary: Jisung has always known you had weird habits, but nothing prepared him for the absolute nonsense you muttered in your sleep. Tonight, however, your sleepy confessions give him some unexpected entertainment.

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Genre: Fluff | Comedy | Slight Romance

Content warning: teasing, domestic, Jisung being a menace

Word Count: 781

A/N: I just knew that I needed to write something crack related to jisung🙏

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EVERYTHING WRITTEN IS PURELY FICTION───NOTHING DIRECTLY RELATES TO ANY REAL LIFE EVENTS.

Jisung never considered himself a light sleeper. If anything, he could pass out in the middle of an earthquake if he was tired enough.

But lately, you had been keeping him awake at night.

It wasn’t intentional, of course. It’s not like you were kicking him in your sleep (at least, not tonight), or stealing all the blankets (which, okay, was a recurring problem, but he’d long accepted his fate). No, the real issue?

You talked in your sleep.

The first time it happened, he thought he imagined it. He had been drifting off when you suddenly rolled over and muttered, “The ducks are planning something…” before nuzzling into his shoulder like you hadn’t just said the most suspicious thing ever.

Jisung, half-asleep, had blinked at the ceiling and whispered, “What.”

You didn’t respond, obviously, because you were asleep.

He had to physically hold himself back from shaking you awake and demanding an explanation.

After that, it became a pattern. Sometimes, it was just soft murmurs that he couldn’t quite catch, but other times, it was crystal clear nonsense.

“Why do giraffes have such judgmental eyes?”

“If I had a superpower, I’d want unlimited pancakes.”

“You ever think about how weird elbows are?”

Each time, Jisung desperately wanted to know what you were dreaming about. And each time, he resisted the urge to wake you—though it was really difficult.

But tonight? Tonight was different.

Tonight, he was casually scrolling through his phone in bed when he heard you shift beside him. He barely glanced up, used to your restless movements.

Then, clear as day, you sighed in your sleep and whispered:

“Han Jisung is so hot.”

Jisung’s phone slipped out of his hand and smacked him right in the face.

He froze. Blinked. Processed.

Did you just—?

He whipped his head toward you, but you were completely knocked out, breathing softly, oblivious to the earth-shattering revelation you had just bestowed upon him.

A slow, mischievous grin spread across his lips.

“Oh?” he whispered, voice dripping with amusement. “Is that so?”

He turned onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His gaze flickered to his phone, a brilliant idea forming.

Carefully—stealthily—he reached for it and opened the voice recorder. He hit record, holding it close to you.

“Go on, my love,” he murmured dramatically, fighting back laughter. “Tell me more about this incredibly handsome and talented Han Jisung.”

For a moment, you were silent. Jisung pouted. Maybe it was a one-time thing—maybe he wouldn’t get any more gold.

Then, in the softest voice, you mumbled:

“…ugh, I love him so much.”

Jisung’s soul left his body.

His heart combusted into a thousand tiny, happy pieces. His brain? Malfunctioning. His entire existence? Changed forever.

“Oh my god.” His voice came out in a hushed wheeze. “Did I win in life? Is this my reward for all my suffering?”

He grinned down at you like an idiot, barely able to contain himself. His heart felt so full, like it might actually burst.

But then—

“…but he’s kind of a loser.”

Jisung gasped, physically clutched his chest, and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling in pure betrayal.

“What the—EXCUSE ME?!” he whisper-shouted, shaking your shoulder lightly. “Wake up right now and explain yourself!”

You groaned in response, shifting slightly but not fully waking.

Jisung huffed dramatically. “No, no, no, you don’t get to just roast me in your sleep after confessing your love. That’s illegal.”

You cracked one eye open, squinting at him blearily. “Huh?”

Jisung wasted no time, shoving his phone in front of your face. “I have receipts.”

You blinked at the screen, still half-asleep. “What?”

“I caught you red-handed,” he said, waving the phone. “You called me hot, admitted you love me, and then immediately disrespected me.”

You frowned. “I… what?”

“I recorded it.” He tapped the screen. “So don’t even try to deny it.”

Your brain, still booting up, took a solid five seconds to process the situation. Then, realization dawned on your face, and your entire body tensed.

“…Oh my god.”

Jisung cackled. “Oh, now you’re awake.”

You groaned, flopping back onto your pillow and covering your face with your hands. “I hate myself.”

“Well, I love you,” Jisung said cheerfully, flopping down beside you and wrapping his arms around you. “Even if you slander me in your sleep.”

You peeked out at him through your fingers. “…Can I bribe you to delete that recording?”

He gasped dramatically. “Bribe? Do you think my love is for sale?”

“Yes.”

“…Okay, yeah, fair,” he admitted. “But! This is too valuable. I have to keep it.”

You groaned again, rolling onto your side to bury your face in his chest. “I regret everything.”

Jisung just laughed, holding you closer. “Nah, don’t regret it. You just confirmed what I already knew—deep down, you’re absolutely smitten with me.”

You sighed. “You’re still a loser, though.”

Jisung kissed the top of your head, grinning. “Yeah, but I’m your loser.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[heartyluv]

Hellooo Peeps!

Quick little note/intro: I’m not new to Tumblr or writing, but I’ve never posted before. Randomly decided, why the hell not LOLL. I’m open to requests as well. At the moment, I just have ideas for Love and Deepspace, but if you have other characters from different fandoms, just let me know and if I’m a part of the fandom or whatevs, I’ll give it a shot. I hope you like this! ♡

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Smut

Word count: 1,487

Summary: You come home + Caleb gets horny = Pound town

Reader/Caleb

It was 11:37 PM when you finally walked through the door. You had just gotten home from a Saturday night out with a few old friends. It’s been a while since you’ve gone out and while you needed the fun and social interaction, there was no place like your space.

You huffed out a breath as you shrug off your coat, grabbing a hanger off the rack from the closet by the front door and putting it away. You try to be silent to make sure you don’t wake up your boyfriend who you assume is sleeping. Bracing yourself on the wall, you toe off each sneaker and tuck them beneath the bench before padding through your apartment on sock clad feet. As you walk further, your heart falls to your ass when you see Caleb sitting on the couch. Since you hadn’t expected to see him up, it shocked you.

“Babe?” you call to him. He cranes his neck to glance at you, a smirk evident on his face. He locks his phone, leaving it on the couch as he stands to his tall height.

“You said you’d be sleep by the time I got in.”

“I know,” he said. “But I knew I wouldn’t have been able to sleep until you got home.” His eyes scan over you. “Had fun?”

“I did, actually,” you tell him with a smile and he can’t help but to caress the soft skin of your cheek. He can never help but to touch you. “Did you eat?”

“Mhm. Made chicken stir fry and I even left you some in case you were hungry. Aren’t I the best?”

You huff out a laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. “The absolute best.”

He asks you about your friends, the mundane things; How they’re doing, what you guys did while you were out, even if you planned on hanging out again soon.

And he was listening to every word as he followed you to your shared bedroom. Well, he was at first. That was until he watched as you pulled off your jeans. Until he saw you bend over to find some clothes to wear for the night after your shower. Until you came up to him and wrapped your arms around him in a hug and felt your soft breasts press against the hard planes of his chest. He ran his hands down your back, rubbed you gently as you melted into his embrace. He wanted to be good, he really did. He knew you were tired, you’re never out till late like this.

But he couldn’t stop his hands from gliding down lower and lower. Low enough until his large hands grasped your ass and the touch made you tense. You could feel his cock stirring to life, heavy and wanting, and the thought alone made your pussy clench around nothing.

You look up at him and he looks down at you, both of you not saying a word but your eyes saying everything. He knew you could feel him. But he also knew that he should back off and let you rest.

“You can tell me no, pipsqueak,” he says softly and his tone is warm, comforting, even when riddled with lust.

“I could.” You press a kiss to his chest and his pec jumps. You slide your hands up the back of his neck to bring his face closer to yours and the kiss starts slow. It’s loving and gentle, but when your tongue licks at his lips, he doesn’t want gentle anymore.

Caleb deepens it, his tongue dominating yours. He walks the two of you back until the back of your knees hit the bed and you sit down, his cock fully erect and waiting to be freed from the confines of his grey sweatpants. The soft glow of the bedside lamp lets you see just enough of him: how his chest rises and falls and how his muscles flex beneath his white tank top. You lick your lips as you pull down his pants. Your heart races as his cock twitches in his black boxers and you palm him through the fabric. He hisses, biting his own lip to keep himself in check.

“My sensitive baby,” you coo.

“I don’t want you to do something you’re not in the mood for, baby.” Even while hard, needy, and wanting, he will always put you first. Always.

You say nothing as you pull his boxers down and he springs free. The release makes him curse under his breath. He’s sensitive to the touch as you wrap your hand around him, watching as precum leaks from his swollen tip when you pump him a few times. You wrap your mouth just around the head and his body jerks.

“Fuck.. fuck, that’s good.” His hand snakes into your hair, gently tugging as you give his cock just a tinge of relief. You lick him, your warm tongue making the man showing so much restraint nearly fall out.

“I want your cock, Caleb,” you breathe out and he doesn’t hesitate the moment the plea falls from your puffy lips. Fuck head, he needs to be inside you where it really matters. Now.

“In the bed.” It’s all he can mutter. You understand just what he means as you crawl further back into the plush mattress. Your thighs press together as he pulls his tank top off overhead. His sweatpants and boxers that rested mid thigh are fully off now when he climbs in after you. Like temple doors, your legs spread for him. But he needs you open more. Using his gravity Evol, he spreads you wider and keeps you there.

“You look so good,” he praises, running his hands along your inner thighs.

On his haunches, he rips your panties off, the briefly rough tug and snap of fabric making you gasp. With the view of your wet cunt and the smell of your arousal, it makes him want to eat. But he knows he can’t wait another second or else he’ll cum before he gets the chance to be inside you.

Your shirt is next, discarded and thrown to the floor as he runs his fingers over your nipples. Both of you are breathing heavily and the distance couldn’t feel any further. He braces a hand beside your head, using his other to guide his cock closer to you. He rubs the tip up and down, gathering your wetness and teasing your clit.

“Give it to me, Caleb,” you whine. “Please…”

He chuckles, knowing the feeling of being as desperate as you are right now. You and him have this thing where you hold eye contact when he pushes inside and it doesn’t change now. Your mouth falls open and your back arches off the bed as his fat cock nestles inside your velvet walls.

“Oh shit,” his voice trembles. Your hands grab at your breasts, craving as much stimulation as possible. Caleb takes control of that for you though, using his Evol to move your hands and latching his mouth onto the stiff peaks, giving them the attention they seek. Your hand grabs his hair as he bites and licks while his hips snap into yours over and over and over and over. The pressure of his gravity keeping you spread burns deliciously, only adding to the pleasure.

“You feel so good,” you say into his ear. The way you praise him, clench around him, is enough for him to go faster. Deeper. Your mewls, whimpers and moans make him feel unstoppable. He kisses your neck, sucking on the skin to leave his mark.

Caleb is just as vocal, grunting and moaning into your neck. “Let me feel you come, baby. You gonna give it to me, yeah?” His hand travels in between both of your bodies as he rubs your clit slowly. Your body jolts, welcoming his touch.

“Yes.. Yes.. I’m gonna—” Your orgasm peaks, ripping through you before you can even try to finish your sentence. Your walls squeeze him, milking his cock for everything and your body gives in to what he’s giving you.

“You’re so tight. Fuck you feel—” he gasps, his hand bracing on the headboard as he follows right behind you, coming deep inside and painting your walls a creamy white. He grabs the wood so hard you can hear it creak in his grasp. Pumping into you just a few more times, he lets you both come down from the high.

You smile up at him lazily, biting your lip and your hand comes up to gently hold the side of his face. He nestles into your touch, kissing your palm. The pressure of his Evol falls away and your legs relax.

“Missed me that bad, huh?” you joke breathlessly.

“Always,” he responds with a wink. “I love you, pipsqueak. So much.”

“And I love you, Caleb. Forever.”

——————————————————————————

Let me know what you think! Please… LOLL

I tried my best. ♡

[ink-stainedkiss]

Hugs & Kisses

MDNI!

Synopsis: All of the Jjk men love Valentine’s day, but they all like it for a different reason.

Including: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Ryomen Sukuna,Toji Fushiguro,

A/N: sooo ik it’s been 4 days since valentine’s but let’s just close our eyes and pretend im not late. I got sick while on my trip and these past 2 days i’ve been stuck in bed. Sorry for the delay, forgive me 🙏🥲 also am i insane for writing this much on my first ever smut post??? Idk i guess i got way to invested, but i hope you guys like it💕

Word Count: 3.2 k

Contents: Smut!, p in v, oral [m! & f! receiving], doggy, mating press, breeding k!, fingering, cowgirl, Sukunas stomach mouth ;)), light sub & dom, light dom & sub, crying, overstim, teasing, dirty talk, orgasm denying,

Satoru Gojo loves Valentine’s day because he’s able to show you off proudly, drowning you in presents, kisses, and candy. Pda is his specialty, but it really shows when the day winds down and he has you all alone.

He’ll be so sweet, dragging you into every store, buying everything you touch, and not even blinking as he swipes his card. However, the loverboy facade drops the moment you enter your shared apartment. He will slam his lips onto yours, leading you blindly into the bedroom as he continues to explore your mouth. Clothes are discarded on the floor and Satoru is frenzied to get you on top of him.

Mumbling sweet words for only you to hear, he lifts your shirt over your head, noting the lacy blue bra you decided to wear. That only makes him more ravenous and it’s off in an instant. His tongue swirled around your mouth, both of his hands cupping your breast, grunting as your clothed cunt rubbed against his bulge. You had him trapped between your legs, but Satoru wouldn’t want it any other way.

He pulled away from the feverish kiss, staring up at you with a look full of deep affection,”How did I get so lucky to have you?” He whispered, now holding onto your face,”Are you getting sappy while I'm on top of you right now?” You joked, raising a brow. He chuckled, planting small kisses on your cheeks,”Is a man not allowed to express his love?”

Something darker flashes over your eyes and you lean in,”How about you express your love by letting me ride you?” Satoru flashed his pearly teeth and his boxers were off in the blink of an eye. He watched you as you hovered over his cock, smirking to himself, but it quickly dissolves into a thin line as he hisses out.

You must be soaking since you practically slid onto him,”Holy s-shit, you’re, hah-sooo tight.” You guys have fucked multiple times, so it’s not like this was a shocker to Satoru, still he basically felt like a virgin when you swallowed him up. Your walls were squeezing him so good, he could probably bust right here. Though that would ruin his cool-guy persona. Again, that thought died once you started to rock against his hips.

A shaky pant pushed past Satoru’s lips and he threw his head back onto the pillows,”Fuck,ngh-you’re killin’ me.” His words didn’t reach you and you continued to bounce on his cock. With a loud moan, you strained your neck back and put your hands on Satoru’s large thighs. A ring of precum began to surround the base of Satoru’s cock as you lifted up and down, creating lewd noises. You picked up your speed, making the man below you grow louder.

“S-slow, mfg-fuckkk, slow down,” He slurred desperately, though he didn’t mean it. He would probably start crying if you actually did. Satoru became more needy and started to buck up, meeting you halfway to slam his hard cock into your cunt.

Satoru’s cock twitched inside of you and you could hear his stifled whines,”Baby,hngh b-baby m’cumminggg!” He sprayed ropes of his cum into you, pairing your insides, but you weren’t done yet, so even as he squeaked and squirmed under you, you didn’t stop. Satoru’s hands had fallen off your waist, now laying next to his head. You were fully in control, riding him like the night wouldn’t end.

Tears slipped past Satoru’s eyelids, facing you with a pathetic look,”S’too much, mhg-fuckk,” He trembled,”Baby, ngh-ohhh shit. I c-can’t, I can't,” You gave him an evil smile, not pausing your movements whatsoever,”You’re the strongest right?”

Satoru gasped as you slammed down on his cock, but nodded quickly despite his weakened state. You leaned in close, your breath fanning his ear,” Then you are gonna fuckin’ take me like the strongest.”

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Suguru Geto loves Valentine’s day because after a full day of gifts and shopping, he sees you in a breathtaking set of lingerie.

He loved them all, each color complimenting you. Dark purple was his favorite, for an obvious reason. Suguru couldn’t wait a second before tacking you to the bed and tearing the thin fabric off. You’ll complain about the ruined outfit, but it’ll be your last thought as Suguru quietly apologizes into your skin, his soft lips gliding down your thighs.

“I’ll get you a new one,My love.” One he most definitely will deface the same way this one was. Geto chuckles at how squeamish and fidgety you are. You were never one for teasing and he knows it, but the desperate need on your face is all the pleasure Geto needs.

It’s a bit crazy how sweet Geto acts, kissing you, saying small praises, only to deny your orgasm. You were so so close, practically riding his face, but just as you were about to come loose, he lifted his tongue from your cunt. A gasp leaves your mouth and Geto just laughs,”I wanna have a bit of fun with you, so just try and hold it a bit longer.”

He says so calmly, as if he’s not rubbing your clit with excruciatingly tiny circles. That’s the least of your worries as he aligns himself with your achy hole,”Just relax.” His reminder doesn’t help and he slides himself into your pussy agonizingly slow. His cock immediately fills you up, forcing a pained moan from you. Geto placed his large hand against your stomach as he grinds into you, making the feeling ten times more pleasant. It was torture.

Geto bends down, placing soft and teasing kisses to your neck. Your panting as he picks up his pace. You try to focus on your other senses: the slapping of skin, Geto’s faint moans next to your ear, his hands gripping on your waist, the smell of sex in the room. Sight was out of the question since you were forcing your eyes closed. Pornographic moans racked from your chest as Geto reached his hand toward your pussy and rubbed your clit.

Your back arched off the bed. Your scream being stifled by your lip in between teeth,”Fuck! Mm’ close-mghh” Groaning loudly, Geto watched your desperate state. Your body jolted and jerked against his hold and it was obvious you were close. He had admired you too long and you stared up at him with water-filled eyes,”Geto-nngh-pleaseee let me c-cum.” The words came out like a cry, your voice scratchy and weak from moaning so viciously.

Geto carried your cheek gently, a hint of mischief in his eye as he debated on seeing just how long you could deny yourself release, but thankfully, he wasn’t a monster,”Go ahead, my love.”

The fire that pooled in your abdomen finally exploded. Chills ran up your skin and you let out a shattering cry. You screamed out Geto’s name as white light flashed over your closed eyes. By the time you opened your eyes, you were breathless. Chest heaving, you saw Geto staring down at the mess you made. The pool of pleasure below you was evident and you could only wince as Geto slid his cock in and out of your flooded cunt. The sounds were obscene, but it only fueled Geto.

You met his gaze with a tired look, body still shaking from the intense orgasm. Though Geto was far from done, it was clear from the spark of sinfulness in his eyes,”How many times do you think I could make you do that again?”

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Kento Nanami loves Valentine’s day because he plans the most extravagant date and spoils you rotten. He also fucks you like it’s your last night on earth together.

Since he spoils you the entire day, you return the favor by jerking him off properly. Taking his hefty cock in your hands, you watch as his eyes practically roll to the back of his head,”Fuck-just like that.” His hips buck into your warm palms, craving the friction, but if you are feeling brave, you pull away, leaving him with nothing.

Vulnerable whines sneak their way through his lips, but Kento will cover them with small coughs or grunts, opting to plead ask kindly for you to continue,”Honey, god- would you please keep touching me?” The slight worry in his eyes is enough to make you break, going right back to his cock. His grip on the sheets is iron tight, but he reaches for your head when you begin to take him into your mouth.

Kento uses your mouth to get off, though he adores you, he can’t help to submit to the utter pleasure you're giving him. So much to the point he craves to hear more strained moans and gags as he fucks into your mouth. When he cums, he’s not surprised to see you have swallowed every drop of his sperm. Your hair is a mess, salvia glosses over your lips, your cheeks are flushed, but you have never looked prettier.

Valentine’s day is always the day he thinks he’s ready for a kid. He would have you in a mean mating press, your freshly bought set of nails marking his skin. Between his battered breaths and choked out moans, he’ll babble on about how pretty you’d look with a baby bump. You're too lost in his furious pounding to question it, tears streaming down your face, and you don’t hesitate to agree.

“Gunna fuck a baby into you Sweetheart,” He grunts with each snap of his hips. It makes you gasp, but he silences your shock with another thrust. He abuses your g-spot over and over, the knot in your stomach tightening to its limit.

When you finally cum all over Kento’s cock, he doesn’t want to stop. He continues to bully your overstimulated pussy, rough thumb circling your clit and becoming more wild by your orgasm. By the time your high has calmed down, Kento is using his large fingers to gather any of cum that spilled from your fluttering cunt and sliding it back into you. A soft whine escapes your mouth, but Kento shushes you gently,”I hope our baby has your eyes, Honey.”

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Ryomen Sukuna loves Valentine’s day because loves the way your eyes sparkle at the new jewelry set he got you.

The set is priceless. (since he most likely slaughtered a leader back then and stole it from them, but the gesture is still sweet) He isn’t quite sure what the purpose of this holiday is, but he knows that by the end of the night you’ll be under him, so he doesn’t mind.

It was a bit romantic how he forced you to strip but said to keep the beautiful diamonds around your neck. They were covered in jewels, a blood red ruby being the center charm. You couldn’t help but think that was the reason Sukuna gifted it to you. Though, that’s not on your mind as you ride his stomach’s tongue.

Your hands are scrambling to find balance atop his chest,while his hands are firmly placed on your hips. His large tongue delves into your soaked pussy, finding new spots to tease with the hot organ. Sukuna continues to giggle below you, watching closely as your face screws in the utmost pleasure. He barely has to do anything, letting his adorable girlfriend try and take him whole.

You have already came on his tongue twice, but the feeling is far too good to stop. Your moans are like a symphony to Sukunas ears and as you grind yourself onto his stomach, he watches the light glisten over the large ruby hanging from your neck. He can see the saliva gathering in your mouth, but before it can fall out, he lifts your head with one hand, forcing you to look at him. You swallow harshly, still bouncing on his abs, which were wet with your juices and sweat.

“You said you could take it.” Sukuna restates, smirking at your fucked-out look,”Were you lying to me?” The words come out like a purr and Sukuna had to grip your jaw tighter to make you speak,”I-i can. fuckkk,” short hiccups interrupted your babbling as Sukuna’s tongue reached your cervix. A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as you slammed your eyes shut.

His large tongue curled inside of you, forcing a scream from you. Your vision darkened and your mind grew fuzzy. All you could feel was the tightness in your stomach growing so big until it washed over you like electricity. Your orgasm came like a flash, making you quake even as it slipped away. Sukuna swallowed your juices in an instant. Well his stomach did. The anatomy wasn’t important since he reached out a hand, swiping between your folds and admiring the stickers strands on his fingers. He placed his index and middle in his mouth, sucking your cum off his fingers with a satisfied hum,”Just as sweet as ever.”

You were weak and delirious, falling on top of Sukuna’s sticky chest. He mended your flesh, focusing mainly on your ass, but the short massage felt nice. Sadly, the sweet moment faded as his tongue exited your dripping cunt, and you felt him lift you up, rubbing his hard tip against your fluttering lips. Your eyebrows creased in a small plea, but Sukuna only clicked his tongue,”Did I say we were done?”

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Toji Fushiguro loves Valentine’s day because he gets to splurge his checks on his favorite girl, though it’s not as expensive, it still makes your heart flutter. Though he doesn’t mind when the decorations of balloons and rose petals are ultimately destroyed after he pounces on you.

It’s the same every year. Toji wants to be romantic, dropping his usual erotic style of sex just for the holiday, but the switch is almost animalistic the way he turns into a beast after just a few thrusts. You will be laying on the bed, letting out soft and delicate moans as Toji ruts into you, but in the blink of an eye, he will have you face down ass up. Your back is so arched it almost hurts, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t going to end up begging him to fuck you like this.

Toji pounded his cock into you with brutal force, ripping a choked moan from your throat. A beefy arm was wrapped around your hips and you could feel the fact that Toji was bulging in your stomach. He laid against your back, his hot breath fanning on your ear as he spoke,”Happy Valentine’s day, Doll.” He was already so lost in your cunt and Toji was pretty shocked to get out a full sentence.

Your gummy walls swallowed him whole, practically milking him where he kneeled. He groaned as he pulled out half way, a chorus of wet fluids and cum sounding out together,”God, do you hear her? She’s just begging me to fill her up.” A pathetic whine slipped from your lips and you put your face into the pillows as an escape.

A ‘tsk’ noise sounded from Toji and you felt his large hand card through your hair and yank you back up. He pulled you up hard enough to the point you were both kneeling, his arm now keeping you upright,”Aw, don’t get shy now,” He thrusted up into you, making you cry out,”Doll, we’re just gettin’ started.”

His cock rested inside of you, twitching and completely stuffing you. You opened your mouth, but only small moans and whines fell out. Toji hummed teasingly, gripping your hair and making your head fall onto your shoulder,”Gotta use your words. I don’t know what you want, if you don’t speak Baby,” You were so embarrassed, but so turned on.

“Ngh,plea-shit.” You were tearing up, so distressed to make your boyfriend fuck you,”Please, f-fuck me Toji.” He didn’t need to be told twice.

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Choso Kamo loves Valentine’s day because he gets to spend the whole time cuddling and showering you in affection. The chocolate covered strawberries and candy taste good, but what tastes better is your soaking cunt on his tongue.

Your hand is gripping onto Choso’s dark hair like a life-line, vision going in and out as he devours you. It’s somewhat your fault for making him so needy for you. You both had been out in public, having no time for privacy, and now that you two were home, Choso wasn’t going to let you go. His hands are wrapped around your thighs, dragging you closer and closer to his hot mouth. Choso eats you out all the time, but there was a certain lust that flooded his veins when he was denied of you for too long.

Your first orgasm was like white lighting, cracking down through your core and silencing the world around you. You only gained some grip of reality when Choso slurped your juices quickly, his tongue flicking over your puffy clit occasionally and making you jolt. However, you knew you were in for a ride when his hold on you grew tighter and he rose from his place between your legs,” One more? C’mon, Sweetheart, it is a Holiday.”

His mouth and chin was covered in your slick. There was a small cloud of desire that blocked his vision and before you could give a shaky answer, he was already sucking on your clit. Yelping, you wrapped your thighs around Choso’s head, making him groan. The sound reverberated through your cunt and forced another moan from you.

By the time your second orgasm came, you were already gone. You were shaking, mumbling nonsense, and overstimulated. Each swipe of Choso’s tongue makes you gasp. Choso drank up your fluid like a man lost in the desert, not wasting a single drop. Tears welled in your eyes as he dragged his tongue flat along your lips, making you whine,”c-cho, please-mfg,so good,” Tears slip down your face, your words barely making it too Choso’s ears. (which may or may not because your thighs were covering them)

He looked up again, but slid two of his fingers past your puffy folds,”What was your favorite part about today?” He questioned innocently, as if he wasn’t fingering you. You let out a gasp as his lanky finger grazed over your g-spot, but left just as quick,”mghhh, I-i liked the,” gasping as he kitten licked your clit,”The flowers!” You squeaked

“I liked the f-flowers, ohh fuck, and-hnghh, the dinner!” You yelped the last part as Choso dragged a long stripe on your cunt. He hummed against your heat, making you jolt,”I liked spending time with you today, it was nice seeing you smile so much.” Your teeth grated against each other as you nodded, craving more of Choso. You tried shifting yourself closer to Choso’s tongue as he gave your cunt occasional licks, but either he didn’t get the hint or was ignoring them, he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“I also liked the restaurant we visited, it was super-“

“Choso!” You interrupted him. He perked up, curiosity in his eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut, completely caving to Choso’s will,” Please. Just fuck me.” That time Choso finally understood, clearer than ever.

[fairlyang]

Sleeping Beauty🍷

w/c: 995

tags: 18+ smut!!! somnophilia (!!), dub-con (!!), established relationship, he’s down bad, force usage x2 (if you squint), unprotected sex, you wake up, creampie

a/n: still working on my 6K fic of ep6😵‍💫 (i’m going insane) in the meantime i might write more short smut drabbles like this for fun 🫶🏼

qimir slowly, and gently sliding inside you as your breathing slowed down and your eyes were barely able to stay open. his hand made its way to grab your waist while you let out little gasps, too tired to tell him to stop and because it felt too good.

add along the fact that you’ve both been wanting to dabble in somnophilia and have given him consent to do it when you’re sleeping, he took this opportunity.

you were going in and out of consciousness, sleeping calls to you with every flying second and you let it take over.

meanwhile qimir was now fully inside you. so warm and tight. you hugged him to perfection. he did slow and sensual thrusts, eyes rolling back because it was amazing.

he kept his moans as quiet as he could, biting on his bottom lip so he didn’t wake you. but then he realized if him fucking you wasn’t enough to keep you awake, then surely a few moans won’t wake you.

so he let out a few moans under his breath, grabbing your right leg and carefully moving it up so he could go deeper. you were laid on your side but now with your leg up, it gave him more room to fuck you how he wanted.

you were stirring in your sleep, letting out small whimpers which only drove him more feral. he was so ecstatic to finally indulge in one of your shared fantasies, he couldn’t help but change his pace to be slightly faster.

his thrusts were desperate. something about how you just fell asleep knowing he was inside you did something to him. and the fact that you’re yet to wake up.

a sleeping beauty in all her glory. you looked so peaceful, beautiful. as always. your beauty never fails to impress him and he was eternally grateful you were all his.

your breathing was somewhat steady but your pussy was clenching against him and there was already a white ring of cream around the base of his cock. even though you were unconscious your body still reacted the same way to his like when you’re awake. he groaned and closed his eyes, wanting to rely on the force alone to really feel you.

he always seemed to find himself using desire as the emotion to help him use the force. his desire for you was unlike any other so it just felt beyond perfect, he was speechless. his mind was clear and he could feel your own desire radiating off your body.

you always claimed you didn’t have a connection to the force, and your stubbornness would never let him help you nor venture past something as simple as sensing when he’s near. but when it came to moments like these it was painfully strong, another reason he was happy you were his.

you’d only be this way with him and if that was as far as your patience with the force ran, then he’d be content.

you were now slightly snoring which had him grinning ear to ear like a lovesick fool. he slowed down and went back to sensual thrusts, making sure you had every inch of him inside you.

he opened his eyes and looked down at your body, now noticing that your arousal was now dripping down to your asshole. “fuck-“ he muttered under his breath and felt himself twitch.

you stirred in your sleep and squirmed around only to just heighten the pleasure. he bit his lip and gripped your waist a little more while his right hand went to grab on to the back of your leg. he steadied himself and was trying to not just explode inside you that very second.

you suddenly just felt that ache between your thighs and your consciousness woke you up. dazed and confused, you wipe your eyes only to realize your wet dream was actually real.

you fell asleep and qimir finally made the move to fuck you as you slept. you let out a yawn and turn your head to face him, his pretty eyes already on you as you murmur, “i thought it was a dream.”

he chuckles and shakes his head, “a dream come true maybe..”

you playfully roll your eyes and he grins, “there’s my girl.”

you sheepishly grin, feeling your cheeks grow warm like they always did with any sweet words he’d give you. you stretched your arm out back to your waist to which he instinctively interlocked your hands together. his thumb gently rubbed your skin and he went back to focusing on his deep strokes.

you laid your head back into the pillow and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to just relax and feel everything he’s doing.

he was now freely moaning, absolute music to your ears and unsurprisingly the cause of your orgasm getting closer. you whimpered and tried to squeeze your thighs together but his second hand didn’t let you. he clicked his tongue and you could just picture the look of disapproval on his face while you pout.

that alone was enough for his own orgasm to build up in his body and he started going faster, desperately trying to catch his release. “qimir-“ you whimpered and squeezed his hand.

he groaned and suddenly released his load deep inside you. his pace didn’t calm down until you were shaking and crying in pleasure from your orgasm suddenly hitting you too.

he stopped and slowly pulled out, not wanting to hurt you. he let go of your leg but leaned down to kiss your hand before letting go when his dick just slid out of you with a plop.

he kissed your hand some more before laying down behind you. you turned your body to lay on his chest, with a hand on his heart just feeling it beat for you. already having in mind that you need this to happen again, and qimir knowing without having to ask.

[organic-bloodbath]

Can you write about kang Dae-ho x American reader, that Dae-ho has developed a big crush on the reader but he doesn't know how to respond to it because he's never been ina relationship before and everyone else in the group (except the reader) notices it and tease him about it?

Just admit you like me

Dae-ho x American!Reader

This applies to two different requests i got, the second one being:

"Can write about Dae-ho x American reader that Dae-ho having a crush on reader saves her in the mingle game and once it came down to two players, Dae-ho was able to have an opportunity to admit his feelings to the reader and share their first kiss?"

— Anon

Summary: As above. Dae-ho just being a nervous wreck around you.

A/N: i love this man sm. He's just a bit lost with his feelings here.

☆☆☆

You felt out of place. You were the only non-Asian player here and felt like everyone's eyes were on you whenever you weren't paying attention, though you might have been only imagining things.

You had arrived to Korea to spend your holidays here, you got two weeks off from college and needed to travel somewhere by yourself. Somewhere you couldn't possibly run into anyone you personally knew. Joining a game of life and death for money - a lot of money too - hadn't been on the list of things and places to experience during your stay in this country.

When the first person was shot to death, all you wanted to do was run away like so many other players, but you knew there was nowhere to escape. You felt your body shaking and it was a miracle your movements weren't noticed.

Suddenly, as you started running again, you tripped and lost your balance, falling backwards after some idiot pushed you - intentionally or not. For a second you were sure you were going to die, that was it, your part on the game ended before it had even properly started. Your family would report you as a missing person and would never get you back home or even know what happened to you.

Until you felt someone grab your body behind you. Arms wrapped securely around your waist, keeping you against their chest. The massive doll had turned to face you right at that same second, so you weren't able to stand up and take a better position. This person was fully in charge of holding you up and saving your life in process. The position you were in was extremely uncomfortable.

When you were allowed to move again, this person helped you to stand up again on your own, and you turned around to face him. Now in front of you stood a young man, looking down at you.

"Oh, thank you," you said quietly. "You saved me."

The doll turned around again, freezing you on your place, your head still turned towards the man's face. You had been too slow to react and continue the game.

"You're welcome," the man subtly said between his teeth, trying not to move his lips too much.

Before you started running again, he gave you a sweet smile. In only a few seconds he catched up with you and stayed right in front of you.

"Stay behind me," he said quietly, and you did as you were told.

You ran the rest of the game the same pace as him, not moving anywhere behind him. You were going to be screwed if he was going to be shot and you'd have to jump over his dead body.

But luckily, both of you made it to the end. After reaching the finish line, you walked to the guy who had catched you.

"Hi, um, thank you again," you said nervously. "Without you i'd be dead, i suppose."

"No big deal, glad to help," he smiled.

"I'm Y/N," you said and offered your arm for him to shake.

"Dae-ho," he said with a slight smile, taking your hand in his, which was much bigger than yours.

When he didn't figure out what more to say, you left him to stand there alone and went back inside.

That evening, Dae-ho wanted to approach and talk to you, but he was constantly overthinking what he would say to you. How did you start a conversation with a stranger? With a woman as gorgeous as you?

"Hi, how are you?"

"Good, thanks for asking."

"Okay, great. Bye."

Talking to men, he didn't care what he said to them and if it would mess up the conversation. To you, he would have wanted to make a good impression.

He didn't know what it was about you but when had saved your life during the game and you had turned to look at him and thank him, he was so taken aback by the sight of you for a second he had almost forgotten how to move.

☆☆☆

The next day arrived and you were given 10 minutes to prepare groups of five for the second game. You looked around the room, until your gaze landed on the group which Dae-ho was included.

"Hi, um, could i join your group?" you asked shyly, not knowing who you could rely on. The only person that had spoke to you by far, and helped too, was Dae-ho, and he felt like the safest option to choose. You looked at all three men at the same time, meaning the question to all of them.

"Of course, welcome," Gi-hun said smiling and motioned you to sit down next to him as you waited for the game to start.

You looked towards Dae-ho who only gave you a nod and an awkward smile. One more girl joined the group. She was apparently pregnant, but you all welcomed her with open arms.

When it was your group's turn to play, your feet were linked to each other, your left foot against Dae-ho's.

You rested your hand on Dae-ho's waist, your other hand on Gi-hun's back as well to keep your balance as the five of you started walking forward in total sync between the mini games.

You couldn't see it because you only kept your gaze forward, but every time you pressed your hand on Dae-ho's back, his cheeks turned a little red and his heart started beating faster. And when you let go, he instantly missed your touch.

When you had finished the entire game and could walk on your own again, all of you cheered in excitement for surviving another game. You hugged Gi-hun next to you and then wrapped your arms around Dae-ho, completely startling him.

"We made it," you smiled against his chest and let go.

You didn't think too much of it, you were a people hugger. The hug didn't last longer than couple of seconds, but Dae-ho would think about your touch on his skin until he fell asleep that night.

☆☆☆

"So," Gi-hun started as your group was eating the dinner together after the second game, "what's it like to live in America? Which state are you from?"

"I've been living in California for the past five years, though i was born in Michigan. I moved there for college and really like it there," you explained.

Gi-hun and Young-il asked bunch of questions about your studies, the differences you've noticed between the U.S. and Korea and so on. They told you about places which you must visit before you return to California and you had heard of none of them before, excited to go and see them. Gi-hun especially mentioned one diner you'd have to try.

Dae-ho sat next to you, barely saying anything during the conversation, just looking at you, smile on his face. Your voice was like music to his ears and he could have listened to you talking all day long until you were out of breath.

"Right, Dae-ho?" you asked, turning your face towards him, startling him out of his trance. He hadn't realised he had zoned out and not listened to you for the past couple of minutes.

"Huh?" he breathed out and straightened his back. "Yes, right, exactly."

He had no idea what you had said to him, but in panic he knew he should just agree whatever you were saying.

"See, the Marine guy agrees with me too," you said to Gi-hun and put your hand on Dae-ho's shoulder.

Dae-ho noticed Jun-hee holding her laugh but tried to ignore it. You paid it no attention. When you had turned your face away from Dae-ho, he gave Jun-hee an annoyed look to shut it.

"So, Y/N," Jun-hee started, taking care of the next route in the conversation, giving Dae-ho a subtle, but suggesting grin. "Are you in California by yourself or with someone?"

"Oh, i'm not alone," you said, making Dae-ho's heart drop for a second. "I live with my roommate, Sarah."

"That's nice," Jun-hee said slowly. "There's nobody else, hm, special in your life?"

"Not right now, if you don't count my dog," you chuckled.

Jun-hee winked at Dae-ho when you weren't watching.

Gi-hun and Young-il were talking together about something that didn't interest Dae-ho, and Jun-hee got up to go to the bathroom. That left you and Dae-ho alone, just the two of you for a moment.

"What do you plan to do with the money when we get out?" you asked. "Like, after you've payed off whatever debts you owe, of course."

Dae-ho tried to gather his words together and explained some of his plans to you.

"And you?" he asked.

"Well, i'm not sure yet," you said. "I know i want to travel a lot, maybe spend a year just exploring the world."

"That sounds fun," Dae-ho agreed. "I've always wanted to travel more."

"Maybe you could join me one day," you suggested, smiling.

"Oh, yea, maybe," Dae-ho said and turned his face away from you. He felt his cheeks becoming warmer.

☆☆☆

Next morning, you truly started to feel like Dae-ho was intentionally ignoring you. You had had that feeling ever since the day one. Almost every time you looked at him and your eyes connected for barely a second, he immediately turned his face away and avoided your gaze.

Jun-hee was walking towards the bathroom, but you managed to stop her and pull her to the side.

"Hey, can i ask you something?" you asked quietly, looking around you to see if anyone else would hear you, until turning back to her. "I don't know if i'm just imagining things but is Dae-ho mad at me or something?"

Jun-hee furrowed her eyebrows. "Why do you think that?"

"I don't know, he's seemed to avoid me and i feel like i've made him maybe upset."

"Oh don't worry, he's not mad at you," she chuckled.

You furrowed your brows, confused what might be the problem then. "What is it then? Do you know something?"

Jun-hee was about to say something but shut her mouth before any words were able to leave her lips. "You know, maybe you should just talk to him."

Then, she just hurried away, leaving you by yourself. That was odd.

☆☆☆

"So, Y/L's pretty, isn't she?" a man asked, suddenly appearing next to Dae-ho, startling him. It was player 124 smirking at him, elbows leaning on his knees as he sat down. He had never talked to Dae-ho before, so he was confused for a fair reason.

"What?" Dae-ho mumbled. "I mean, um, sure."

He looked towards you, feeling butterflies in his stomach when he heard your laugh all the way to the spot he was sitting at.

"Do you think i'd have chance with her?" the player 124 asked. "You two are friends, right? Could you ask her what her type is?"

"Her type?" Dae-ho's eyes widened and there was a pitch in his voice. He couldn't watch another man to flirt with you, there was no way.

"Yeah. Like what kind of guy she is into?"

"Well, i don't know. She hasn't talked to me about it," Dae-ho nervously shrugged.

"Okay, so," he started and put his arm around Dae-ho, "you go and ask her and come to speak to me again after the next game, yes?"

"Um, i don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on, brother. Man to man. I'll owe you one," the player 124 winked and smacked Dae-ho's shoulder, then standing up.

When the guy, whose name Dae-ho wasn't sure of, had left, Dae-ho felt his heart burst. He couldn't watch another man make a move on you, it would absolutely kill him. Thankfully, the guy didn't rush immediately towards you, but to his own group which included Thanos, a few other guys and a girl. Dae-ho didn't know the girl's name, but why couldn't he try to hit on her instead, and not his Y/N?

His Y/N. You weren't exactly his either, but he didn't want to see you with anyone else except him. But of course that wouldn't happen if he didn't actually talk to you about it. He had started to feel possessive over you for no reason and he somehow managed to make himself mad without anyone else's effort.

Jun-hee was next to come and keep him company.

"So, she thinks you're mad at her," she said seriously.

"Mad? I'm not mad at her," Dae-ho insisted, confused, and straightened his back.

"Come on, you have to say something and stop avoiding her like that." Jun-hee took in a deep, frustrated breath when Dae-ho didn't know what to answer. "Why is it so hard to just be yourself around her?" Jun-hee asked, clearly frustrated with his attitude and behavior.

"I just," Dae-ho started but didn't find the words. "I don't know."

"Anyone with eyes can see that she's gorgeous and if you don't act soon, she's gonna be off the market."

With that said, Jun-hee got up and left him alone. Dae-ho knew she was right and he hated it. He could already see you running into player 124's arms if he didn't start doing something about this. And that image itself in his mind made him feel ill.

☆☆☆

The Mingle challenge started and Dae-ho knew he had to make sure that you weren't left alone at any point and be lost among the crowd, all freaking out and almost ripping each others' clothes off. When the carousel was slowly spinning and everyone stood still, Dae-ho stood right next to you, gently putting his hand on your wrist.

"Stick close to me, okay?" he said quietly and swallowed.

"I will," you answered with a smile that made Dae-ho automatically smile as well.

"Can i hold your hand?" Dae-ho asked, nervous for your reaction. "Just in case, you know."

You looked at him in the eyes with a warm gaze.

"Sure," you said and took his hand in yours, taking a tight grip with your fingers so he couldn't easily let go of you.

As the rounds went by, Dae-ho didn't let go of you even for a second until you had safely arrived inside one of the rooms and the door had been locked.

When it was time to find a room for two, Dae-ho immediately sprinted towards the rooms as fast as possible, trying to be one of the firsts to reach a free room.

After the door locked, he almost forgot to let go of your hand, finally relieved that the game must now be over.

"Dae-ho?" you said next to him.

"Oh, sorry," he stuttered and let go of you.

"You've been acting oddly, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, everything's fine," he assured you but by the tone of his voice he knew you weren't buying it either. This was it, he had to be direct with you right now or otherwise the player 124 would reach to you first. "Okay, fine. It's just, i get so nervous around you."

"Nervous?" you repeated. "What makes you nervous?"

"You," he whispered with a mere breath. "You, because i... i like you, Y/N."

"I like you too, Dae-ho," she said, confused. "I really struggle to see the problem."

"No, i mean i really like you," Dae-ho corrected himself. "Like more than anyone else here. A lot more. Like just, differently."

You narrowed your eyes, until let out a quick laugh, hiding it with your hand. Dae-ho was scared that he had just completely embarrassed himself.

"Dae-ho," you smirked and looked back into his eyes, speaking slowly. "Are you saying that you have a crush on me?"

His cheeks turned red. "Um, i suppose i am, yes."

"How long, hm?"

"Since the time you crashed on me on the first day probably," he admitted and looked away for a moment, but you put your hand on his cheek and made him look at you.

"Have you never liked a girl before, Dae-ho? What are you so afraid about?"

"Well, um-"

"That i wouldn't like you back?" you questioned.

"Probably, yeah," he stuttered.

"Well, i think you're really sweet," you started and took his hands in yours, now both of them. "And brave. Funny. Strong..."

"But?" Dae-ho asked, sure there was gonna be a turn in her words which made him feel hopeful.

"There's no 'but', silly," you said and playfully hit his shoulder. "I haven't known you long enough to get to the 'but' part."

Dae-ho looked at your hands tangled together, but you lifted his face up, finger on his chin.

"I like you too, Dae-ho," you said. "And i would like to get to know you better if you'd stop avoiding eye contact with me."

Dae-ho let out a relieved laugh.

"That's, well, good to hear," he said and swallowed, eyes moving between yours and your lips. Even though it was only a second, you noticed it and took his face in your hands.

You planted a soft kiss on his lips, not longer than couple of seconds. Almost right after that, the door unlocked itself.

"Nothing more romantic than bunch of people being slaughtered behind the door while we share our first kiss," you pointed out, both of you laughing.

"I hope there will be many more," Dae-ho whispered.

"There might, if you take me on a date."

"If we get out of here alive," he said.

"We will get out, have some hope," you insisted. "I'll take you to America too some day, if you want to."

"Really?"

"Of course."

You pressed another kiss on his cheek, until took his hand in yours and led him back to the rest of your group, relieved that all of them had survived.

Dae-ho couldn't stop smiling and could still feel the ghost of your lips on his cheek.

☆☆☆

A/N: If you've sent me a request, know that i'm working on them when i'm in the mood to write about that specific character, i'll try to update the existing fics too which have more parts coming up but it'll take a while 🫶🏻💙

[shosweet]

“hey, honey, could you help me with my tie?” kuroo tetsuro called out. he was probably the most content man in the world, finally going to a restaurant with his old friends instead of some boring “company bonding” at the same old bar. not only that, but he’s finally able to bring you along with him! (mostly, he’s excited to show you off to everyone)

you, on the other hand, were not the most content woman in the world. your hair and makeup was more complicated and time-consuming than it usually is — how could your arms be that tired just from dolling up? to make matters worse, the mini tube dress you picked out was far from compliant. patience thin and exhaustion high, you groaned at his question.

“didn’t i just tie it for you, tetsu?” you called back, too tired to hold back your attitude. he walked into your bedroom from the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe at your helplessness.

“geez, can’t a guy ask for help?” he sassed back. you just shot him a dirty look, rolled your eyes, and sighed.

“fine, get over here,” you grumbled. he sauntered over, taking painfully long strides with that smug smile stuck on his face.

as you took hold of his tie, he was able to get a closer look at you. the dress you picked looked almost uncomfortably tight, he’ll admit, but damn did it hug your curves perfectly, almost sinfully. as you finished up, he kissed between your brows, careful to not ruin your makeup.

“fix your face, you’ll get wrinkles,” he smiled. you still glared at him, just a little softer now. turning around, you moved your hair out of the way to reveal your problem.

“can you help me with the zipper? it’s been driving me crazy,” you sighed. kuroo tetsuro never had an innocent nor pure thought — right now was no exception. with your back exposed, he walked closer, pushing his figure against yours. he takes the small metal into his fingers and starts placing kisses along your bare shoulder.

“you’re gorgeous, y’know that,” he whispered, almost as if worshipping an ancient artifact. his fingers tug downward, ever so slowly. his free hand snuck around and held your thigh, teasingly rubbing it up and down.

“t-tetsu…” you gasped. “come on, you’ve been waiting for this dinner forever,” you continued. you knew how much this dinner meant to him (and you already put way too much time into getting ready), so you couldn’t help but interject.

“so? they’re grown, they can wait,” he groaned against yours skin, fingers creeping dangerously close to your undies. with the zipper fully undone, his lips make their way down their back, slow, painful, deliberate. his now free hand presses your chest towards him, pulling you closer.

“f-fuck..” you sighed. your body and your mind were at war with each other — you knew what your husband would be like if he didn’t have this dinner, but fuck, your body craved his touch and you knew damn well what you would be like without this. taking a step forward, you freed yourself from his grip and face him.

“we’ll be late, tetsu…” you started, chest rising, heart pounding, your dress slipping. he has an unreadable expression, but his eyes were dark, clouded by lust. he walks towards you, you stepping back with each one he took, until eventually, your calves hit the bed behind you.

he gently pushes you back by your shoulders, but it was enough to knock you off balance and land on your back. now kneeling in front of you, he rests his cheek on your thigh.

“we’ll make it quick then, yeah?” he offers. adrenaline and arousal spiking through your body, your thighs twitched at his words.

“i..” you were speechless, all of your own words jumbling into nonsense in your head and getting caught in your throat.

“come on…” he rasps, making his way up to face you. his lips press against your ear, breath warm and voice intoxicating.

“you know you want to.”

all it took was that small push to send you spiraling. under his submission, you whimper as he makes his way back down. he bundles the ends of your dress to your stomach, undies on display for him. he coos upon such a sweet sight.

“see? your little pussy wants it, too,” he smirks. “aww, she’s practically crying already,” he teases as he sees the damp spot on your undies and traces your wetness.

“s-shut up and do it already,” you whined, too much going on in your head to stay focused. he only laughs and takes his sweet time, kissing his way up your inner thigh while he lightly grazes your clothed, sensitive clit.

seeing you squirm with impatience, he gives in and pulls your panties to the side. entranced by your wetness, he only admires as your core trembled in wait.

“such a pretty pussy…” he says, drunk on your scent. he fixes his posture, propping your legs onto his shoulders, and gripping your thighs like they’ll stop him from levitating away.

you brace for what’s about to happen — tongue, fingers, cock, fuck you’d take anything after he’s teased you like this. eyes pried shut and poor cunt aching, you wait for his touch.

and wait.

and wait.

he moves your legs off his shoulders, getting up with a small groan. you open your eyes at his leave, shocked and disappointed to see him just leave you there. he notices your wide eyes and simply shrugs.

“what? you said we’re gonna be late,” he deadpans, fixing his cuffs and collar before walking out again, leaving you bare and dumbfounded on the bed.

been writing so much lately 😵‍💫

[crimsonbubble]

i DESPERATELY need a jinu x reader x mingi. like im feral. i love these two. at the same damn time. in every way 😝

Encore From Hell

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, threesome, f2l, studio sex, mutual pining, worship kink (?), sensory overload, light power play, dry humping, oral, fingering, praise kink, light restraint, hair pulling, overstimulation, slight possessiveness, nipple play, oral fixations, spit kink, she/her pronouns used *not proofread, just pure horny*

[i dont know what happened, i just started typing and this came out 🤷🤷🤷]

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk41 @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou @everyonewooeverywhere @hongjoongtime117 @oddracha @kingbloopter @jay-0n3s @ane1o2 @jelly1117 @aftertherain-atr @k-zuzulibrary @lxnnrobin @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @lezleegerguson-120 @moonlitarcade @koyagifs @les4heeseung

masterlist <3

The low hum of bass rattled through the walls of the studio, but none of it compared to the way your body buzzed with anticipation.

You weren’t even sure how you ended up here — wedged between Jinu and Mingi on the leather couch, late at night, with the lights low and sweat still clinging to your skin from the impromptu dance session the three of you had somehow turned into a flirting competition.

“I swear you did it on purpose,” Jinu murmured beside you, voice silky and low as his fingers brushed against the exposed skin of your thigh, just barely, like an accident that kept happening. “Wearing that and expecting us not to look?” You tilted your head toward him, smirking. “Who says I don’t want you to look?” Mingi laughed — low, deep, and dangerous — from your other side. His arm rested behind you on the couch, fingers casually playing with the ends of your hair. “She’s bold tonight,” he said to Jinu, though his eyes never left your lips. “I like it.”

“I bet you do,” you whispered, leaning into him just enough to feel the heat of his chest.

The air crackled. Mingi’s hand moved from your hair to the back of your neck, drawing slow circles with his thumb. You shivered, involuntarily arching just a little closer to him — and that’s when Jinu’s hand fully landed on your thigh, gripping it, his fingers spreading just a little too high to be innocent.

“You’re playing with fire,” Jinu said, voice velvet-smooth, all teeth behind the smile. “Do you even know what you’re doing to us?”

“I’m not sure,” you said sweetly, “Why don’t you show me?”

That was all it took.

Mingi leaned in first, mouth brushing your neck — not kissing, just ghosting over the skin, making you whimper at the anticipation. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, just resting on the warm skin of your waist.

At the same time, Jinu’s lips found your shoulder, soft and warm, his breath teasing your skin as his hand moved slowly up your inner thigh until you gasped — hips shifting, body caught between both of them.

“You like being the center of attention,” Mingi whispered, his voice rough now, eyes darker than before. “We could give you everything, you know that?”

“You already are,” you breathed, heart pounding. Jinu chuckled against your skin. “Then let’s see how much you can take.”

Jinu's hand slipped higher, finally pushing up the fabric of your shorts, his fingers brushing against the damp heat between your legs — over your underwear first, just enough pressure to make your hips twitch.

“God, you’re already soaked,” he groaned, voice rough now, jaw tense as he looked at you like he wanted to ruin you right there. “Is that from us, baby?”

You nodded, breathless, barely able to speak with Mingi now fully behind you, both of his big hands sliding up under your top, palming your breasts through your bra. He was slower, more deliberate — mouth hot against your neck, dragging teeth down your shoulder. “She’s shaking,” he murmured, pressing himself against your back. “So responsive. I bet she’ll come just from us touching her.”

You let out a choked sound as Jinu finally slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, sliding through your folds — slow and easy, teasing, barely dipping in before pulling back and circling your clit with featherlight strokes.

“You want more?” he asked, leaning in, lips brushing yours. “Say it.”

“I want more,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut as Mingi’s thumbs brushed over your nipples, the sudden pressure making you arch into Jinu’s hand. “Please.”

That word did something to them.

Jinu’s mouth crashed into yours, all tongue and heat and frustration. His fingers sped up, slick sounds filling the room as he circled tighter, deeper, hitting just the right rhythm. Mingi groaned behind you, sliding his hands down your stomach, then tugging your shorts and underwear down enough to expose everything.

“I need to taste her,” Mingi muttered, voice hoarse, dropping to his knees behind the couch. “Hold her open, hyung.” Jinu smirked against your lips and pulled away, gently spreading your thighs while Mingi settled between them. Your legs were shaking, the couch leather creaking under the movement, your head falling back with a moan as Mingi dragged his tongue up your slit — slow, hot, filthy. He didn’t rush. He savoured. He worshipped.

“Oh my—Mingi,” you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair as he flattened his tongue against your clit, sucking gently before flicking in tight circles. “That’s it,” Jinu murmured, guiding your chin to look at him. “Eyes on me while he eats you out. Can you do that?” You nodded, barely able to breathe. Jinu kissed you again, softer this time — a slow burn that only made the tension coil tighter and tighter. Your thighs trembled, stomach tightening. Mingi’s pace quickened, fingers joining his mouth now, pumping in and out of you as you gripped the couch, teetering on the edge. “Let go,” Jinu whispered into your ear. “Come for us.”

You shattered.

Your moans filled the studio, loud and raw and real, body twitching as waves of pleasure rolled through you — Mingi holding you through it, tongue still lapping lazily, greedily, while Jinu kissed every inch of your face like you were something divine.

And they weren’t done.

Your body was still humming — muscles soft, brain foggy with bliss — when Mingi finally pulled back, lips shiny, face flushed like he’d just had a religious experience.

Jinu was still beside you, his hand stroking slow patterns on your thigh like he was trying to keep you grounded. But then you shifted. Sat up. Turned to face them with a glint in your eyes. 

“My turn.” Mingi blinked. “Wha—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. You climbed right into his lap, straddling him, grinding against the hard length pressing into his sweatpants. His hands flew to your hips immediately, grip tightening like he was trying to ground himself now.

“You think I was just gonna let you wreck me and be done?” you purred, leaning in, lips brushing his jaw. “Not even close.” Behind you, Jinu chuckled. “Told you she was trouble.”

“And you like trouble,” you shot back, looking over your shoulder with a wink. Without breaking eye contact, you slipped your hand down between you and Mingi, palming him through his pants — slow, firm, teasing strokes that made him groan and drop his head to your shoulder. “Fuck, baby—”

“You like that?” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his throat as your hand slipped beneath the waistband. “Let me take care of you.” You didn’t wait. You slid off his lap, sinking to your knees on the studio floor, tugging his pants down just enough to free him. He was already hard, already leaking for you. You glanced up through your lashes, smirking as both men watched you with dazed, hungry eyes.

Mingi looked like he was about to fall apart just from the sight of you. You wrapped one hand around him and leaned in — slow lick from base to tip, tasting him, teasing, your lips just barely closing around the head. “Holy shit,” Mingi hissed, hands tangling in your hair.

You took your time. You owned your time. Mouth wet and warm, tongue swirling, hand stroking everything you couldn’t fit. You felt him throb, twitch, fall apart under every flick and suck.

Jinu knelt beside you suddenly, voice rough against your ear. “Look at you, baby. So good with your mouth.” You pulled off with a pop, just long enough to say, “You’re next.” Jinu smirked, and your mouth was back on Mingi — faster now, deeper, spit running down your chin as his thighs tensed under your hands. “I’m not gonna last,” he growled, head falling back. “Fuck—fuck—you’re gonna make me—”

You sucked harder, hands gripping his thighs, moaning around him just to send him over the edge. His hips jerked once, twice, and he came hard, thick, warm, body shaking as you swallowed every drop like it was nothing.

You pulled back, licking your lips, eyes dark with heat.

You’re still kneeling. Mingi’s blissed out and breathless. But Jinu? Oh, Jinu is smiling like the devil just handed him your name. “You ready, pretty boy?”

You didn’t know what you’d just unlocked.

Jinu dropped to his knees in front of you, one hand tilting your chin up so your spit-slick mouth was aimed at him like a weapon. He looked almost…fond. Amused. But dangerous.

“Oh, I’ve been ready,” he murmured, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “But now? I think you need to be reminded who’s really in charge here.”

Before you could even quip back, he kissed you. Deep, filthy, tasting Mingi on your tongue — like he liked it. You whimpered, and his hand cupped your cheek while the other slipped between your thighs again. “You’re still dripping,” he whispered against your mouth. “You like getting off for us that much, baby?”

You nodded. “Want more. Need you.”

“Then lie back,” he said, standing, already pulling off his shirt. “Mingi, help me out.”

And just like that, Mingi — who’d been in a blissed-out haze seconds ago — grinned and moved behind you again. He lifted you like nothing, laying you across the studio couch and crawling up beside you.

“Let’s take care of her properly,” he murmured, hand ghosting over your stomach, sliding back down between your thighs. “Already one ahead of me,” Jinu said with a smirk, pants halfway off. “Let’s even the score.” You were completely bare now, spread open, heat pooling in your stomach all over again as Jinu knelt between your legs. His fingers joined Mingi’s — two sets of hands, slow and skilled, one circling your clit while the other slipped inside. You arched with a strangled moan, hips rolling instinctively toward the overwhelming stimulation. “F-fuck—too much—”

“No, baby,” Mingi cooed, kissing your neck. “You can take it. You’re so wet for us, you’re sucking us in.” Jinu curled his fingers just right, and your whole body snapped. The pressure building inside you unravelled with another wave — a second orgasm flooding through you, thighs trembling, nails digging into the couch.

But they didn’t stop.

Jinu leaned forward, tongue replacing his fingers, licking into you like he had something to prove. Mingi’s lips found your breast, sucking, teeth dragging across your nipple while his hand returned to your clit.

It was too much. It was perfect.

Your cries bounced off the studio walls, incoherent now — just heat, praise, and pleasure crashing into you again and again.

You were drenched. Fucked out. Eyes glazed and mouth open. And Jinu wiped his mouth, stood over you, and stroked himself slowly. “Think you can take one more?”

You nodded weakly, wrecked and desperate.

Mingi chuckled, voice low. “Good girl.”

You don’t know how long you laid there, caught between overstimulated bliss and the warmth of their bodies. Jinu was still pressed between your thighs, his head now resting gently on your stomach, his hair tickling your skin. Mingi’s chest rose and fell beside you, his fingers lazily stroking your arm as his other hand rested on your hip like he wasn’t ready to stop touching you.

“Hey,” Mingi murmured, voice rough with sleep and sex, “You still alive in there?”

You cracked a lazy smile. “Barely.”

Jinu chuckled, lifting his head to look at you. “We didn’t break you, did we?”

“Oh, you definitely did,” you mumbled, eyes fluttering closed. “And I loved every second.”

Mingi grinned and leaned over to kiss your temple. “You were perfect.” Jinu sat up, gently tugging your top back over your chest and grabbing a hoodie off the nearby chair to drape over you. “That’s enough for now. She needs a recharge.”

“Maybe a snack,” Mingi offered. “And water.”

“And a nap,” you added with a soft laugh. “With both of you.” The boys exchanged a look — one of those secret, unspoken things that only people who knew each other too well could pull off — then they both slid in beside you on the couch, sandwiching you between them.

Mingi pulled your legs over his lap while Jinu wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling your head to rest on his chest. The studio had gone quiet, the dim light casting soft shadows on the walls, your shared body heat turning the room into a perfect cocoon.

For a while, none of you spoke. Just soft breathing, the rhythmic beat of Jinu’s heart under your cheek, Mingi’s fingers still tracing mindless shapes on your thigh.

Then Mingi spoke up.

“So... we doing this again?”

You laughed, eyes still closed. “God, yes.”

Jinu pressed a kiss to your hair. “But next time, I want her all to myself for a few minutes.”

“No promises,” Mingi smirked. “She kinda likes sharing.”

“I really do,” you whispered, letting out a content sigh.

And that’s how you fell asleep — tangled between them, hearts still pounding, bodies still tingling, and three dumb smiles worn like promises.

[bangtan-junkie]

Dissonance (Part 1) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 5744 words

Synopsis:

Your coworker, Jungkook, got on your nerves. While everyone saw him as sweet and charming, you saw his true (annoying) colours that lay beneath. It was no secret that you hated him. No one knew that more than him. But a night out, drinks in your system, and a girl flirting with Jungkook in front of you might bring up some uglier feelings and be Jungkook's last straw.

Note:

lol sorry I'm not great with synopses. but yeah this is rly just angst and filth enjoyyy. part 2 soon hopefully. also would love requests or feedback so lmk

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as Jungkook spoke. Jungkook was a newer employee and the whole office knew you didn't like him one bit. He was a kiss-ass and there was nothing you hated more than a kiss-ass. Not only was he a kiss-ass, he was also annoyingly good looking which only made people like him more. While you were busy busting your ass for work and cleaning up after other peoples' mess, he was able to get anyone to do whatever he wanted with a flash of his smile. To top it all off, nearly every woman in your office threw themselves at him - even the senior ladies. You couldn't stand it. Watching them twirling their hair, putting a hand on his chest as they laughed at his every word, it made you sick. What was worse was watching him flirt back - seeing him check them out, grab them by the waist, or whisper in their ears. Everything about him made your blood boil and you refused to give him an easy time like everyone else.

Jungkook was fully aware of your disdain for him. He didn’t miss how your eyes rolled when he walked into the room, or how you avoided him like he was the plague. He paid no attention to it at first, trying his best to charm you as he did with your peers. But every smile, joke, or conversation was shut down. He thought it wouldn’t bother him, but with each passing day, every scowl, every eye roll, and every glare, he felt his irritation growing. But he refused to give you the satisfaction of knowing that he cared about your opinion. Instead, he tried his best to show you that you had no affect on him at all. With every insult you threw at him, he turned it around and threw a cheeky, flirty comment back at you. He only did it because he knew it would piss you off even more. As amusing as it was, his frustration was building up as you pushed his buttons.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you shared a social circle at work because you were in the same department. As if you didn't get enough of each other at work, you were occasionally forced into seeing each other outside of work when your coworkers decided to go out. Tonight was one of those cursed nights as your group agreed to go out for drinks after work. So you sat at the end of the booth, downing your drinks faster than you probably should, watching one of the girls attempt to seduce Jungkook in the booth. You tried to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of you but found your mind wandering back to the two of them. She was practically in his lap by this point and had unbuttoned a few buttons of her top. Jungkook's arm was snaked around her waist while his other hand lingered along the hem of her skirt. You downed your next drink, trying to drown the burning sensation you felt in your chest. It was certainly drowning your common sense in the process, your head already beginning to feel fuzzy. The girl was asking stupid questions and resorting to plain flattery in an attempt to flirt. Your already bad mood from work combined with the drinks you were powering through was quickly worsening your mood and making you more bold.

"You're so sweet," she giggled, "No wonder everyone likes you over in your department."

"Not everyone," you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook rolled his own eyes and ignored you but the girl looked over at you confused.

"Sorry?" She asked.

"Don't be. I was just agreeing with you. Jungkook is soooooooo sweet," you mocked, looking directly at him. She gave you a strange look and turned back to him.

"Looks like you're famous with all the ladies," she smiled, playing with his tie.

"Oh you have no idea," you laughed to yourself. Jungkook closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down and avoid reacting. "His reputation exceeds him," you giggle. This time she gave you a dirty look and ignored you.

"Too bad you're not in our department. You'd be a sight for sore eyes," she raked her eyes over him and winked.

"That's about all he's useful for, you should take him really," you grumbled. That was Jungkook's last straw. He finally turned to you, acknowledging your existence.

"Are you serious right now?" He glared. Your stomach flipped as you finally got a good look at him - tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, and fury swimming in his eyes. Yeah, the alcohol is definitely getting to me - you thought to yourself. You just shrugged in response.

“Get up. Now,” Jungkook demanded, voice low. You rolled your eyes but complied and slid off your chair as Jungkook slid out of the booth. As soon as you were up, you were being dragged away with a tight grip on your wrist, . He took you to the far corner of the bar, out of sight from the booth everyone was at. You rubbed your wrist in pain when let go of you.

“What are you doing?” He asked. You noticed the tick in his jaw as he clenched it. It made his jawline look even sharper. Dragging your gaze away from his jaw back to his eyes, you gave him a questioning look. “Don’t play fucking dumb right now,” he belittled. Your stomach dropped at the insult.

“I know you’re celibate, but I’m trying to take this girl home and fuck her brains out,” he sneered.

You gulped. Something about this Jungkook was doing something to you. He never got angry with you. He always had a witty remark for every insult you threw his way. Seeing him like this was different; it was more real than his cocky facade. His brows were furrowed and he was glaring at you like he wanted to grab you by the neck. Fuck he looks so hot. Normally you would never let yourself think that, but the alcohol swirling in you was clouding your judgment. Fortunately, you were still sober enough to hide your lustful gaze.

“I’m trying to save the girl from a night of disappointment and misery,” you snickered. Your answer only seemed to anger him more. He stepped forward and you took a step back. His annoyance was written all over his face. A few more steps and he’d backed you against a wall and caged you in with a hand placed next to your face. You had never been so close to Jungkook before. Was he always this handsome? You could only stare up at him and hope he didn’t notice how turned on you were.

“We both know you don’t believe that,” he said, leaning down, his face way too close to yours. “You think I’m such a man whore right? Surely you don’t think I have these women coming back just for my pretty face?” He mocked you. You felt your face flush. “Then what is it? Why are you cockblocking me?”

You weren’t completely sure why you were acting the way you were. Watching that girl press up so close to him, whisper in his ear, laugh at his every work - it made you sick. Yet you couldn’t look away, you watched as he flirted so shamelessly and your stomach swirled with disgust.

“She’s fucking stupid. She fell for you. Really I’m doing her a favour.”

“Why do you care Y/n? Just because you don’t want me, doesn’t mean other people don’t.”

“Because they look so dumb fawning over you,” your gaze was hazy, “all they see is how ha-,” your eyes trailed down to his pretty lips, having the little sense to cut yourself off before saying what you were going to say. “They’re always the same; flipping their hair, laughing at your dumb jokes, climbing into your lap. And you eat it up every time.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed for a moment before he scoffed.

“What, are you jealous sweetheart?” He joked dryly. “Wish it was you instead?” He asked, trying to annoy you and fully expecting you to get angry. Turns out, it worked. Something fiery and ugly crawled through your veins as the words left his mouth, making you feel hot. You couldn’t face what the feeling was - just knowing Jungkook was making you feel something so dark was enough to stop your train of thought. You refused to become one of those girls...you couldn't.

“You know what? Never mind, you guys are perfect for each other,” you mumbled while quickly slipping under his arms. The possibility of you being jealous was sobering. It cleared your mind enough to know you should get back to the table. Enough to see how dangerously close to disaster you were. But just as you made it a foot past him, he pulled you back, pressing your back against the wall. His gaze was different now - dark and piercing. It held you captive, like a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t look away and neither could you pull out of the tight grip he had on your arm.

“What, that’s it? Not even gonna give me shit for that?” He questioned. The words were meant to be teasing but instead they sounded angry, nearly spiteful. His mind was racing as he put the whole picture together but refused to believe it. Embarrassment replaced the ugly feeling clawing up your throat, making your body burn up. His gaze became too intense and you had to look away. But he was not going to make this easy for you. He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him as he patiently waited for you to say something, to deny what he was thinking. This was a whole new side of him that you were seeing for the first time. What was worse was that some part of you liked it. Your embarrassment reached a new height as the tension grew thicker between you. You wanted to scream, to run, to get as far away from Jungkook as you could - anything but admit this new found truth. Tears threatened to wallow in your eyes as the unease began eating you alive. But you forced them back, refusing to embarrass yourself any further. After several moments of silence from you, Jungkook let go of your jaw and scoffed in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he uttered, bewildered, before hanging his head. The short moment gave you reprieve, a second to breathe again now that he wasn’t looking into your soul. Your mouth opened to say something, anything to redeem yourself, but shut when you couldn’t think of anything. Then Jungkook was chuckling, which turned into a laugh that made his shoulders shake. It wasn’t a joyous laughter. No, it was mocking, cruel.

“This whole time,” he started, his laughter dying down as he looked at you again, “I thought there was an actual reason you hated me.” He straightened his back, now towering above you, and moved closer. He was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive. You quickly avoided his gaze, choosing to stare straight ahead at his chest instead. One of his hands came up to tangle in your hair before he yanked it, forcing you to look at him again. You couldn’t help the moan that left your lips as he pulled your hair. It only fueled that hunger in his eyes.

“All this time, you just needed to be stuffed full of cock huh? Needed me to fuck the attitude out of you?”

The words immediately sent a rush of arousal to your core, leaving you breathless. If it wasn't for the little bit of pride left in you, you would've jumped him. Jungkook watched as your eyes filled with lust and anger as you steeled your resolve. He quickly glanced around to see if any of your coworkers were nearby before grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the washroom. All you heard was the door locking before you were pinned to the wall.

“Come on Y/n, I wanna hear you say it. Tell me you're jealous. Tell me you want to be in my bed instead of her,” he growled, getting more bold by the second. You gulped, struggling to contain your reactions.

"Shut up," you spat out, finally finding your voice. "Go fuck her for all I care." You gave him the best glare you could muster up. Jungkook's eyes lit up with the challenge you presented, but the dark glint in them made you nervous. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand.

"If you're gonna lie, at least do it well," he taunted, his breath hitting your lips.

"I don't care what you do Jungkook. Just let me go" you whined, straining your wrists in his grip. He only tightened his hold on you, hiking your wrists further up the wall and forcing you on your tippy toes. His sheer strength was slightly jarring as you were left helpless in his grip.

"Yeah?," he scoffed, "then maybe I should go back out there and pick up where I left off." You felt your stomach drop at his suggestion. Some part of you deep down wanted more. But an even bigger part of you couldn't stand the thought of enduring more of him flirting with that girl.

"She's a bold one, you know? She kept pushing my hand up her thigh, closer to where she really wanted it," he teased, voice low.

His hand trailed along your waist, over your hips, then down your thigh. Your breath hitched at the gentle touch. His fingers brushed along the hem of your skirt, which suddenly felt too short. You couldn't seem to peel your eyes away from his tattooed fingers that threatened to slip under your skirt. Your heart pounded in your chest as thoughts of what else his hands could do flashed through your mind. Taking advantage of your silence, he continued.

"She's filthy, she would've let me touch her pussy right there at the table," he groaned. "Could've had her riding my fingers in front of everyone, trying her best to stay quiet." You shot him a glare, finding the thought repulsive - unless it was you he was touching of course. "Would you rather I leave you here and go do that?"

"Fuck you," you answered with a little too much anger and disgust. It was obvious that you cared, and you hated that. Jungkook raised a brow, a satisfied smirk dawning his lips.

"I'll take that as a no," he mused, fingertips dipping under your skirt, ghosting over the inside of your thigh. You let out a shaky breath.

"I didn't...I mean...," you stumbled over your words, trying to find an excuse. You didn't want him to have the upper hand. It hurt your ego.

"Come on, use your words Y/n. Tell me why you don't want me to go," he patronized, waiting to hear your answer. His fingers continued to trail upwards, making you fluster more. You ignored his request, hyperaware of his touch. If he moved his fingers any further up, he'd be able to feel your arousal and the thought was mortifying. He'd never let you live it down.

"Jungkook," you gasped, getting higher on your tippy toes in an attempt to get his fingers a little further away.

"Yes?" He answered, intrigued by the sudden flustered expression on your face.

"Don't...your fingers," you managed to say, squirming under him.

"What about them?" He asked, stilling their movement but dug them into the flesh of your inner thigh. You closed your eyes and muttered a prayer under your breath.

"This isn't appropriate.." you said shakily, staring at the his hand disappeared under your skirt. He scoffed at your words.

"Not appropriate?" he chuckled. "You know what else is inappropriate? The constant belittling and insults you throw my way." The amusement dissipated from his voice. "The way you humiliate me in front of everyone is inappropriate Y/n," his words pierced you. The internal battle between guilt and arousal you were feeling left your head fuzzy.

"Listen, I'm sorr-" you started, genuinely wanting to apologize, seeing how upset he was. But he cut you off, not wanting to hear your apology.

"And what's especially inappropriate is the way you're looking at me right now," he growled. A rush of arousal flowed through you as he called you out. "It's inappropriate how your eyes are begging me to touch you."

The breath was knocked out of you as he pointed out everything that you thought he hadn't noticed. "I bet if I touched you right now, you'd be fucking soaked," he said, voice low.

"Jungkook please," you said breathlessly, begging him to stop speaking as your legs threatened to give out under you.

"Please what?" he asked, forcing you to spell it out for him.

"Please...I can't.." you whimpered. The sound made him groan.

"You can't?" he questioned, "Can't take it anymore?" Your eyes threatened to tear up again. "Want me to stop? Or do you want me to touch you?"

You took a second to think about it, calming your overwhelmed nerves. Were you actually going to give in to your desires? Was it worth the never ending humiliation and mockery you'd face after? You took one look at his hungry eyes and decided - fuck it.

"Touch me," you finally said, heart racing. His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in obliging. He quickly hiked your skirt up to your hips, his fingers slipping between your clothed folds. All thoughts escaped your mind as Jungkook finally touched you where you wanted.

"Fuck, you really are soaked - for me," he growled. You had half the mind to remind him that he was also clearly enjoying himself. But your eyes fluttered shut and the words transformed into a moan as his fingers rubbed over your clit again. Pleasure coursed through your body, the tension between you two only adding to the fire between your legs. "I turn you on that much?"

You could only huff in response, too focused on the pleasure. His fingers slid down, rubbing through your wetness. Then he stopped. You groaned at the loss, opening your eyes to shoot him a glare. You were met with Jungkook's dark, lustful gaze. His eyes scanned your features hungrily, catching on your lips before stopping at your eyes. The look on your face was one he was used to. The look of anger, frustration, borderline hate. Usually he despised it, but in that moment he savoured it. This time, it was mixed with desperation - desire. It made him proud that he was able to push you to this point.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked, clearly annoyed.

"So cute how you think you'll get your way every time," he mumbled, a devilish smirk resting on his lips. "You know what one of the first things I noticed about you was? How you weren't afraid to speak your mind." It felt strange to hear Jungkook complimenting you like this, but you still felt like this was a trap. "Obviously, back then I didn't know that I'd grow to hate it," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes.

"But I want you to speak your mind now. You've always said every terrible thing you thought about me. So tell me what you're thinking about me now Y/n," he said, eyes staring into your soul like he knew every filthy thought that was running through your mind. He moved closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "Still thinking of how much you hate me?"

"No," you answered, wanting him to get on with it.

"What are you thinking then?" Every inch of you screamed at you not to answer. But you knew there was only one way out of this. Jungkook wanted the truth, he wanted to hear you say it.

"I'm thinking about your hands, your fingers," you said softly, grateful that he had his face buried in your neck so that you didn't have to look him in the eye.

"What about 'em?" His breathing was ragged against your skin, like he couldn't wait to finally hear the words.

"Thinking about how good they look on my legs," you admitted, heart racing. Jungkook didn't answer, only taking a sharp breath in. A few more seconds of silence and you gulped, deciding to take the leap.

"Thinking about how big your hands are. And how good your fingers would feel inside of me," you said, gasping as his fingers resumed their ministrations. Jungkook pulled his head back, finally looking at you again, a dark lust painted across his features.

"Thinking about cumming on your fingers and your cock," you said, your eyes fluttering shut as pleasure worked its way through your body again. "Thinking about how much I hate that you're making me feel this way."

Jungkook cursed under his breath, making you open your eyes.

"Why?" The question was simple, but it felt heavy. His eyes bore into your; anger, lust, and focus swirling around in them.

"I don't wanna be one of those girls," you answered, voice barely above a whisper. A cold look washed over his face for a brief moment.

"How does it feel then? You're here, soaked and begging me to touch you. About to cum on my fingers. I'm the one making you feel this good," he growled, fingers picking up their pace. "Are you angry? Disgusted?"

His fingers had you hurtling towards the edge, leaving your mind hazy. You barely processed his question as the pressure built up in your core again. All you could do was moan his name as you quickly reached your climax. But then his fingers were gone, leaving you crashing. There was a moment of silence as disbelief and anger coursed through you. When you looked back at him, his expression seemed colder.

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” you nearly shouted when you finally came back to your senses. “I was so close!” you grit through your teeth.

“Oh were you?” Jungkook mocked, observing your angered reaction.

“I should’ve known. Of course you’re a selfish douchebag in bed too,” you spat. A smirk formed on his lips as he raised a brow at your words.

“It’s bewildering that those girls come back when you can’t even get them off once. I guess it is just for your pretty face,” you sneered, wanting him to him to be equally as pissed of as you. He let go of your wrists and buried a hand in your hair before yanking it back. You yelped at the harsh tug that forced your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“God you really just keep running your mouth, don’t ya?” He growled. “A few more seconds and we both know you would’ve creamed your panties.” You gulped at his words, unable to deny them.

“But only good girls get to cum,” he whispered, his hot breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine. He let go of your hair, putting a little space between you two. “You think you deserve to cum?” He asked.

“After months of being an asshole to me, never listening to anything I said, treating me like an idiot? All because you wanted my cock stuffed in your tight pussy.” The anger swirling in his eyes only turned you on more.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily Y/n?” he mocked. “After all that, did you think I’d let you have your way? Maybe finally fuck you how you’ve wanted? Have you screaming my name, squirting all over my cock, over and over again?” While his words added to the arousal between your legs, his tone left you humiliated. You could feel your face getting hotter.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to mutter while staring at the floor. Jungkook chuckled darkly before grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

“Oh baby, no. Sorry won’t cut it. If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to earn it,” he growled, staring right into your eyes.

Then he let go of your jaw. He was angry with you, so angry. But watching you beg, cry his name, submit to him made his cock impossibly hard. As he fumbled with his belt and pants, you understood what he wanted. Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees before him. Jungkook cursed under his breath at the way you looked up at him. You reached forward to help him as he shakily unzipped his pants, but he merely brushed your hands away. You waited patiently, your heart racing in anticipation of finally seeing his cock. Relief spread across his face when he finally pulled his aching cock out of its confines. You licked your lips at the sight. Jungkook’s hand squeezed at the base as he slapped your cheek with his cock.

“Open,” he demanded. You obeyed, opening your mouth and letting your tongue out. Jungkook slapped his heavy cock on your tongue, groaning as you looked up at him. His cock twitched against your tongue as he admired the lewd image in front of him. You swirled your tongue around the tip before closing your lips around it. Jungkook grunted, still looking at you with dark eyes. But he refused to move, leaving you to do all the work for now. So, you slowly sunk your mouth down on his cock, brushing his hands away from the base. When you’d finally sunk all the way down, your nose brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook’s head rolled back and he let out a heavy sigh that sounded suspiciously like a whimper. Seeing him crumble under your touch boosted your pride and ego. Feeling like you finally had some power in this situation, you decided to go further, just to pull more of those cute whimpers out of him. You pulled back before sinking down on him again, letting his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck, he moaned, his hands flying to the back of your head to grab your hair. You repeated the action two more times, pulling a string of curses and moans from his lips that hit your ears like music. Just as you were pulling your head back for another time, Jungkook’s hands pushed your head forward, thrusting his own hips so his cock was buried deep in your throat. The action caught you off guard, your hands coming up to hold his thighs, attempting to stabilize yourself. Your throat burned at the abrupt intrusion and you felt tears beginning to well in your eyes as he held you there. But the look of pleasure etched on his face and the pretty moans leaving his lips were incentive enough for you to stay there. You tried your best to focus on breathing through your nose as he buried his cock as deep as he could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “Who knew your mouth felt this fucking good?” He asked rhetorically, his voice low and hoarse, finally opening his eyes. Seeing you looking up at him with his cock stuffed down your throat, tears streaming down your face, and trying your best to nod to his question proved to be overwhelming for Jungkook. He felt like he could cum right there and then. With a growl, he yanked you off his cock, finally giving you a chance to breathe. You coughed as you tried to catch your breath, trying to wipe away your tears and the saliva dripping down your chin. He had to look away from you for a moment or he thought he’d go crazy. So he slowly stroked his cock, letting his head roll back, as you caught your breath.

You breathed heavily, unable to do anything but look up at him in a haze. As soon as you caught your breath, you wrapped your lips around his cock again. Jungkook looked at you through hooded eyes as you eagerly sank down on his cock again. He didn’t even give you a second to readjust, a hand fisting your hair as his hips snapped forward. He set a rough pace, leaving your throat feeling raw already. You could feel his anger and frustration with every thrust.

“Fuck, I should’ve just done this,” he growled. “Every time you ran your mouth, should’ve just stuffed it with cock. Bet you would’ve loved that,” he grunted, quickly getting close to the edge. You whimpered softly around him, unsure if you were agreeing or not. “Such a fucking slut,” he groaned, punctuating the words with harsh thrusts. His movements were getting rougher and sloppier as he hurtled closer to the edge. You held onto his thighs for support, letting him use your mouth.

“Fuck I’m getting close,” he groaned. He cursed under his breath seeing the anticipation in your eyes. He quickly yanked your head back and stroked his cock quickly. “Fucking hell, you know how bad I wanna cum all over your face? Let everyone at the table see what a fucking cockslut you are for me?” He groaned, his hand moving quickly. You stared up at him, burning the sight into your mind.

“Don’t care, just want your cum,” you gasped, still catching your breath. That was all Jungkook needed to hear to completely lose himself.

He quickly buried his cock in your mouth again as he came. Curses and moans spilled from his lips, his hot cum shooting down your throat. You could see his adam’s apple move with every groan and it was driving you crazy. There was no doubt that you were soaking wet and you ached to be filled up. Your tongue soothed his cock, coaxing him to give you more. Even after he finished, he kept himself buried in your mouth, savouring the feeling. After a few moments, he finally pulled away. His gaze was piercing as he tucked himself back into his pants, straightening himself up. You finally stood up again, brushing at your aching knees. Your heart was pounding in your ears at the anticipation of what was going to come. After all, you’d definitely been good to him. Jungkook looked at your sloppy appearance and smiled sadistically.

“Who knew you were such a filthy slut?” He taunted, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Sucking dick in a public bathroom so desperately,” he mocked. His tone made your stomach drop. Your heart continued racing with excitement and unease. He leaned in closer. “Should be enough dick to get you through the next week without being a bitch to me, right?”

You couldn’t hide the wince at his words. The spite in his voice stung. Sure he was degrading you before, but this time he sounded like he meant it. He stepped back from you, looking over you without a hint of warmth. “Might wanna clean up before you come back out,” he said nonchalantly, unlocking the bathroom door. “Wouldn’t want everyone to know that you had my cock down your throat,” he said coldly. Then he was out the door, leaving you a mess, alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t move for a few moments, still trying to process what had just happened. You’d never seen him that angry and bitter before. You couldn’t believe that he’d just left you to clean yourself up after all that. The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the thought of someone walking in on you like this. You finally moved to lock the door again.

“What the fuck,” you sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You shot yourself a dirty look, seeing the state you were in. You felt humiliated. As you fixed yourself up, you mentally cursed yourself for letting your guard down around Jungkook. You should’ve known that he would act like a dick. Underneath that charming exterior, he was downright awful. Of course he would insult and humiliate you after getting what he wanted. You could feel the anger bubble up in your chest, threatening to make you march back to the table and yell at him in front of everyone. But you knew you couldn’t. You’d be exposing yourself in that process and the last thing you wanted people to know was that you gave in to Jungkook. You couldn’t be seen as one of those stupid girls that were chasing him all the time. You weren’t one of them. Taking a deep breath to calm down, you took one last look in the mirror. After making sure you looked decent again, you finally stepped out of the bathroom.

As you walked back to the table, an obnoxious, high pitched laugh made your stomach churn with dread. Jungkook sat there, his arm draped over the booth behind the same girl from before, smirking as he spoke to her. She was leaning in so close that any movement would have their lips touching. You felt sick when he whispered in her ear, chuckling at whatever she responded with. You could’ve thrown up right there and then, your blood running cold. There was no way in hell you were gonna sit there and watch him act like this after everything that happened. As soon as you got to the table, you grabbed your bag and jacket, refusing to look at the two of them.

“Hey, Y/n are you leaving?” someone asked. You couldn’t even tell who was talking, too busy trying to escape this hell. “Yeah, feeling kinda sick,” you mumbled, already turning on your heels. You heard some ‘goodbye’s and ‘feel better’s from behind you but you just hastily waved without turning around. When you finally got into the cold night, the air felt like a slap to your face. It smacked some sense back into you. Your mind reeled with the events of the night and you wondered what you could’ve possibly been thinking. You just started speed walking, nearly sprinting, towards the subway, desperate to get home and wash the filth and disgust that caked your skin and clawed at your insides.