#I was calling out and gasping every two seconds
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monzamash · 3 days ago
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★ bargain bin — lewis hamilton
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ville d'amour lewis hamilton x you rating — 18+ (sex, coarse language) —requested by anon; "sex in front of a big window where anyone could glance up and spot them (maybe in vegas??) ps. i love your blog so much!!!"
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the city of love.
it had been a dream weekend — every moment laced in adoration and soft touches. that's how it always was with lewis. he treasured you and made sure everything was perfect when he had you alone. you ached for these fleeting moments of serenity, clutching them in your grip for as long as possible, knowing any minute it could be over. —a phone call from his manager bringing you back to reality so you appreciated every second spent with your favourite person in your favourite city. 
paris was the place you felt the most alive. the twinkling skyline, the delectable dinners, sprawling cafes that had your name written all over them. you adored the history and tradition of it all, and made sure the city of love lived up to its name. and so did lewis. 
“you feel incredible, baby,” he growled into your ear, hips rocking at a languidly gentle pace. 
“feels so good, lew…”
you were floating on cloud nine — breathy and covered in a thin layer of sweat. the two of you had been like this for hours, edging and teasing until you begged for him to be inside you. it was almost always like this, lengthy and passionate. sex with lewis was to be savoured like a sweet delicacy.
lewis knew you loved to indulge him by the way you clenched around his girth, fingernails deliciously dragging down his muscular, tattooed back. he was a glorious lover, knowing all your little pressure points. he had a sixth sense about what you liked and how you liked it before you even knew. so when he tortuously pulled out, leaving you empty and pouting, he couldn’t help but chuckle. 
“up,” he motioned, large hands clutching your tender hips.
it took all of your strength to pull yourself from the cloud-like mattress, doused in pillows and smelling of lewis’ sweet cologne and sex — you wished you could bottle up the scent for those lonely nights. once you found balance, you carefully tiptoed over to where he was waiting, unsteady on your feet but lewis caught you.
“i’ve got you, baby girl. here, hold onto this…” he placed your hand on the shallow sill that lined the large floor to ceiling windows and you gasped at how cold it was to the touch.
outside was a breath-taking view of the eiffel tower, perfectly lit up against the dark, cloudy sky. it stood taller than every other building around it, proudly and stoically. a pillar of culture, a symbol of victory and freedom— the beginning of a new frontier. its symbolism reminded you a lot of the challenges lewis had faced in his career, fighting for what he believed to be important, giving voice to those without one. always staunch in his beliefs, unwavering and kind. 
“this view is beautiful,” you murmured as lewis traced his lips across your exposed shoulders and neck, admiring the beauty right in front of him while you looked beyond the horizon. 
“you’re beautiful,” he whispered in return, “every time you see the eiffel tower, i want you to think about how good i'm about to make you feel right now.” 
a surge of excitement shot down your spine at his promise as he reached around and softly stroked your swollen clit, warming you up again. you could feel his thick cock brushing against your ass, hard and no doubt pulsating at the thought of fucking you against this window, so exposed and on display. lewis loved the idea of people watching, his exhibitionist streak showing its hand early in your relationship. 
“need you inside me again, baby,” you moaned and reached around for him, but before you could make a move, your hands were pinned to the window pane. 
lewis shuffled your body forward until your breasts were pressed firmly against the glass —the chill from the cool night caressed your nipples and sent a wave of pleasure to your core. he kicked your feet apart slightly and spread your cheeks before sending a long string of spit down your backside and slipping into your warmth. 
“fuuuuck,” you groaned, forehead dipping against the window from the fullness. 
“need everyone to see how fucking sexy you look when you come all over my cock —need it so, so bad,” lewis panted almost desperately, eyes narrowed and focused on the way his cock disappeared into your slick hole. 
“fuck me harder…” you softly whimpered, fingertips white from the pressure placed against the glass. 
you could hear the devilish chuckle from the beautiful man serving you insurmountable pleasure on a silver platter, “better hold on then, baby girl.”
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a/n — was going to post this tomorrow morning but fuck itttt! can't believe this is my first time writing for lewis, i enjoyed it so much!
shop the sale event here #end of (f1) season sale!! —see what other customers are buying ✨
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43hughess · 12 hours ago
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Juno - Quinn Hughes
the lights dim in the stadium as you finish playing one of your songs, dumb and poetic. you softly smile as you look out into the crowd. "why hello Vancouver!" you say into the mic with a slight giggle. Quinn, Luke, and Jack all cheer along with the plethora of people in the crowd. Quinn was still confused on how he got dragged to your show but somehow, he was here.
it was now time for the intro to your song, juno. you searched the crowd for the "hottest" person in the crowd. you gasp softly for dramatics as you point into the vip section. "ladies! get over here!" you called for your backup dancers as Luke and Jack try to figure out if your pointing at their section.
"you see that guy over there?" you question as you point directly at Quinn. "which one?" they ask in unison. "that one" you say dreamily as you gesture towards Quinn. Quinn looks up from his phone and his jaw drops slightly as he sees his face on the big screens decorating the sold out arena. Luke and Jack instantly start freaking out but quinn finds himself mesmirized by you.
"what's your name, baby?" you ask with a flirtatious tone. “Q-Quinn!" he shouts. "Quinn baby..i fear your under arrest for being way too hot!" you hold back a slight giggle as the red and blue lights flash around with a siren sound filling the air. "here cutie" you say as you hand the fuzzy pink handcuffs into his hands gently. "t-thanks" he mumbled as he fiddles with the handcuffs. "your welcome." you smile softly at him as you stand back up.
"oh no! Quinn over here is just way too hot m-my clothes are falling off for him!" you yelp jokingly as your dress reveals your sparkly, baby pink outfit. Jack jokingly presses quinns jaw back up since he was staring at you in awe. Luke pisses himself laughing but then looks back up at the stage as you begin to perform.
it was now time for the part that most people were anticipating. the juno pose. you imitated a sex position every show and changed it everytime. "you make me wanna make you fall in love" you sing as you gesture to quinn and he is still in shock. "oh late at night im thinkin' bout' you ohhhh, wanna try out some freaky postions?" you sing as you scurry over to the end of the stage. "hey Quinn, have you ever tried this one?" you say seductively as you smile directly at him. he tries to form one but it comes out as a lopsided grin.
after the show Luke, Jack, and Quinn were all chatting about well...everything. "im still in shock not gonna lie" Quinn admits with a breathy laugh. "me too" Luke agrees with a slight nod. "out of all people though you?-" Jack was cut off as a security guard comes out. they all tense up but before they can question him he beats him to it. "hey...uh-Quinn right?" the strong man asks. Quinn nods, confusion written all over his face. "y/n wants to see you come follow me" he waves him over, all of their jaws drop but quinn recollects right away before following him into your dressing room
they soon enter and you look up from your vanity. "oh, hi Quinn" you smile sweetly at him. "sup" he says nervously as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "here come get comfy" you say as you adjust the pillows on the fuzzy white couch for him. "t-thanks" he smiles. "how are you, you looked pretty miserable out there." you giggle. "nah," he laughs softly,
"i just got dragged along by my brothers we got free tickets but im glad i came." he smiles softly. "i recognized you my dads a big Canucks fan." you make your way over to sit next to him. you giggle slightly as he nearly spits out his water. "I’ve actually been to a few games?" he is way too stunned to even speak so he just nods. you two end up chatting and around 20 minutes later luke and jack come in as well, you two hang out and sadly part ways but hey, quinn got a follow back so he was satisfied. he told jack everything the second he got home.
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rainydayathogwarts · 3 days ago
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Boyfriends and mentors - Tony stark x reader, Peter Parker x reader
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summary: peter brings his gf to meet tony, his mentor. But when he gets dragged away for nightly rounds, he doesn't think as much as he should before leaving you two alone. cw: SMUT, cheating (r! on peter), age gap (20s and 40s) reader is described as shorter than tony and having hair that can be 'tucked behind your ear', slight angst at the end, reader regrets it. 3.5k wc
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An extended hand.
A welcoming smile.
A classic 'girl next door' outfit.
A nervous glance back to your boyfriend.
That was all it took for Tony to be wrapped around your finger. Your smile faltered when your hand stood unshaken a few seconds beyond comfortable. Tony blinked twice, stepping forward to shake your hand, his second hand clasping around your shoulder as he tugged you closer to him, walking you into his lab and welcoming you to his 'sacred space'. Peter's shoulders slumped in relief, following his two favourite people in the world into the room.
Tony jogged ahead of you to clear some things from one of the two stools in the room, gesturing for you to sit down whilst he took his place on the other chair. Tony knew you were a special girl. Peter spoke about you all the time, going on about your skills and kindness, and beauty. Most importantly, you were special enough for Peter to bring you to the Stark Tower, filled to the brim with avengers and spies who only had to look at your face to know every detail about your life. Tony dismissed the questions you asked him, claiming "You probably already know too much" before turning the tables, nodding along as you answered his queries.
You leaned forward as you spoke to Tony, or 'Mr. Stark' as you called him, a curious gleam in your eyes. Laughing where appropriate and mirroring his body language, you were pulling out all the tricks for him to like you. It seemed to be working. You hadn't thought much about meeting the Tony Stark — probably overrated and not as attractive in real life. But boy were you wrong. The older man looked engaged as you spoke, stroking his salt and pepper beard in interest. All you wanted was for him to approve of you, especially as Peter's girlfriend, and not at all because you wanted a man as handsome as him to like you. Peter, who now stood behind you, chest to your back, one hand on your hip whilst the other held yours, squeezing your palm lightly in reassurance. Glancing back at your boyfriend, you grinned at him, feeling your cheeks heat up when he leaned in close to press a quick kiss to your lips. "I'm so glad you guys are getting along well."
Tony grinned, getting up to retrieve a bottle of whiskey from the shelf with two glasses, asking "You old enough to drink yet?" You laughed, nodding your head yes. "I am, Mr. Stark, but I'm not such a fan of whiskey." Tony hummed, eyebrows raising in mock surprise. "Oh right. Well, wine?" You shrugged your shoulders with a smile, muttering a "Sure, why not?" He scavenged for wine glasses in his cupboard — an odd collection you thought for a lab — before pouring a glass for you each. "Spider-Man here has nightly rounds soon, and I can't be sending the kid off to work drunk." Peter huffed behind you, mumbling something about 'not a kid', but you paid him no attention, clinking your glass with the boy's mentor.
"Wait! Rounds!" Peter gasped, "That's like, now!" He realised, rushing around the work space to sling his bag over his shoulder. "I'm sorry baby, we have to go." Peter sighed disappointedly, his eyebrows furrowing worriedly. "The party just started," Tony started, swirling the wine around in his glass "Hey, why don't you go ahead and y/n and I can get to know each other a little better?" Peter's eyes lit up at the suggestion, a smile forming on his face. "I can get her a drive home if she needs one. Unless..." Tony pointed at Peter, a thoughtful look on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I'll come back and get you when I'm done, yeah babe?" You nodded happily, swinging your legs on the high stool.
Peter ran towards you, pecking your lips lightly before swiftly existing the room, metal doors automatically closing behind him. You caught Tony moving in your line of sight, twisting in your chair to revert your attention back to him. "Now that he's gone you can tell me all the dirty stuff." You felt the heat make its way to your face at Tony's comment, unsure if he was joking. His face broke out into a laugh at the taken aback look you sported, exclaiming "I'm joking sweetheart!" You felt your heart beat particularly hard.
Sweetheart.
Peter never called you that, only ever sticking to 'babe, baby', or just your name. Tony was a man of taste — you could tell by the delicious wine. Assuming it was because he was older would be rude, so you stuck with the idea that it was due to his charm. Touchy enough to make you feel welcome, but not too touchy to make you uncomfortable.
"Penny for your thought?"
You broke out of your trance, shaking your head with a nervous chuckle "Sorry. I- I just get worried about Peter whenever he goes." The lie rolled off your tongue before you could stop it, the fact that the man in front of your could probably read your body language not occurring to you. Tony grinned, scanning your body from head to toe, grateful he was sat close enough to you that the work space wasn't covering your entire body. Your legs were swinging slowly where they couldn't reach the ground, your short dress splayed over your thighs. Thighs, ever so slightly squeezing against each other to show your... excitement to meet your boyfriend's mentor. Your hands clutched the sides of the seat underneath you — probably to stop yourself from fidgeting. Your head was often tilted downwards, if not looking around. You avoided looking at him unless he spoke directly to you, in which case you'd intensely return his eye contact.
"Worrying about your boyfriend isn't healthy for a relationship." Tony commented, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You grimaced a little, feeling caught out in your lie, and hopped off the stool. Leaning your elbows on the table in front of you, you observed the space, starting "So what's this stuff you're working on now." Topic averted, Tony noted, getting off his chair. Not a healthy relationship, he thought, at least from your side. Tony approached you until he was stood directly beside you. "Fixing a jet for my suit." You hummed in interest, watching as Tony swiped his hand in thin air, projecting a three dimensional display of the iron man suit.
Clicking on a few things, Tony pointed at the broken jet on his suit, gently placing a hand on your back as he explained it to you. The sudden touch had you taken a sharp breath, eyes going slightly wide in surprise. With Tony's attention on the display, you felt safe in knowing that he hadn't noticed your reaction, though you hadn't noticed the upwards tug of the corner of his lip, telling you otherwise. The display of his suit in front of you disappeared and you abruptly turned to face Tony, chest brushing against his. You took a shaky step backwards, reaching for the abandoned glass of wine on the table. Taking the last sip from the glass, you looked up to see Tony holding the bottle up with a raised eyebrow. Nodding, you held your glass out to him, whispering thanks before averting your attention from him.
"I'm not surprised you and Peter are together." He spoke, voice booming in the now otherwise silent lab. At the confused expression you held, he elaborated "You seem shy. He's definitely shy when he's out of that suit." You shook your head in disagreement "I'm not - I'm not usually shy, Mr. Stark." Bingo, Tony thought. "Oh? How come you are now then?" Tony's brows furrowed in mock confusion, gaze violently trained on you. He kept track of the way you sipped your wine to gain yourself time to think, swallowing thickly before responding "Well, I just want to make a good impression on you." You blinked twice, adding "You know because Peter cares so much about you." Tony caught your pause, wetting his lips with his tongue before stepping closer to you. "It's nice that you care so much. People usually don't nowadays."
"Of course I care. I love Peter." You noticed the pointed tone in Tony's voice, nodding along with him in disguised oblivion. "You take good care of him?" Tony asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Uh-huh." You don't know when Tony became so close to you, but you were now stood chest to chest with him, looking up at him to maintain eye contact whilst you spoke. Tony took one last sip of wine before putting his empty glass on the table. Following his actions, you handed him your glass, which he took with a smile, placing it right next to his. Tony's hands trailed towards your hips, manoeuvring your body so that you were trapped between him and the table. He began closing the distance between you. With his lips barely graze yours, you raised both your hands to cup the older man's face, his beard tickling your palms. Inhaling deeply, you firmly stated "This is wrong."
"We both know that means nothing to you sweetheart." Tony gave you a moment to challenge his words, scoffing in amusement when you didn't, before slamming his lips against yours. Your body had an instant reaction: involuntarily moaning and pushing yourself up against Tony, hands on his jaw pulling him impossibly closer to you. "Fucking knew it." He mumbled when you briefly separated for air before deepening the kiss, pushing his tongue against your lips so you opened your mouth, tongues tangling in a messy kiss. One of your arms slid over his shoulders, tugging him closer to you while you pressed yourself onto your tippy toes, battling for dominance against the older man, who easily carried control over the situation.
Tony pushed you back against the table, hitting your hips back against the cold marble and grinding his pelvis into you. You lightly hit Tony's chest to push him away from you, panting loudly when his lips separated from yours. Tony was immediately cupping your face with one calloused hand while the other was clinging tightly to your waist, making space for his lips on your neck. You shuddered at the scratch of his beard on your soft skin, eyes fluttering closed. Failing to suppress a moan, you tangled a hand in Tony's hair. Shit. You weren't used to the feeling of such skilled lips on your neck, and much less a beard on your skin. Peter had never grown facial hair; you weren't sure if he could.
"Fuck." You whimpered, feeling Tony's teeth scrape against your neck. Pulling Tony's head back by the grip on his hair, you desperately chased his lips for another kiss, hands moving to land on his impressive torso. Tony's arms wrapped around you, lifting you up just enough to place you on the table behind you, breaking the kiss in the process of doing so. The man stares at you silently, hands wandering under your skirt to tug at the string of your panties. "Hips." He whispered, watching with great interest as you lean your weight onto your hands, pushing your hips up to let the man drag your underwear down your thighs. You observed as he pockets the panties, a smile on his face, before both his hands trail down to your left leg. He folded your leg up to rest on the border of the table, pulling a gasp out of you when the cold atmosphere hits your dripping core. Tony repeated the movement with your second leg, stepping back to look at the scene he's created.
Peter Parker, his intern, his protégé, his chosen son. Peter Parker, whose girlfriend was sitting on Tony's lab table, spread out like a meal ready for him to devour. Tony puffed his chest out proudly, wondering if you'd break up with Peter from the guilt of cheating on him, or if you'd keep this as a secret, clinging onto what's left of your relationship. Would you sleep with Tony again? Or would you refuse to see his face ever again? "Mr. Stark?" His head snapped towards your small, unsure voice, waiting to see if you'd made a terrible mistake. "Fuck sweetheart, I'm going to eat you whole." Tony approached you in two big strides, hands gripping the tops of your thighs as he leaned down into your pussy to press a bold kiss on your cunt before immediately starting his attack on you. He sucked and licked at your pussy, tongue switching between dipping into your entrance and putting pressure on your clit.
It seemed the latter got a stronger reaction out of you, with hips bucking uncontrollably, and a hand that returned to his hair as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly before letting his teeth graze your sensitive areas. Gasping, you pushed Tony's head deeper into your cunt, squeezing your thighs around his head with a whine of "Mr. Stark!" The formal use of his name has a groan ripping out of his chest, the sound sending vibrations up into your core. You moaned so loudly you were sure the whole building could hear you, and possibly even Peter, halfway across the city doing rounds.
Grinding your hips against Tony's face to add to your pleasure, you can feel the man bringing you near your orgasm. You threw your head back, eyes shutting tightly. The pressure on your clit was so strong, bringing you closer and closer to the edge until... it was gone. Your head snapped up at the sudden loss of friction, gasping in disappointment, watching as the man in front of you stood up to reach his full height. You dropped your legs over the edge of the table, shutting them tightly. Tony stretched his back, twisting his torso until you heard a crack, muttering "Can't do that too much one you pass the age of forty." You looked at him unabashedly, jaw dropped in confusion and shock. Watching your expression, he added "You didn't think I was going to let you come anywhere other than on my cock, did you?"
Gulping, you let Tony drag you off the table, your feet landing on the floor with a soft 'thud'. Gripping Tony's belt, you tugged him closer to you, unbuckling the thick leather until his jeans dropped down his hips. "Gimme a kiss." The man muttered, leaning forward as he removed his boxers. You pecked his lips softly before glancing down, curious to see what he had to offer. Your sharp inhale had Tony chuckling, mumbling "Don't worry baby." You cringed slightly at the name, hand instinctively reaching for your phone at the reminder of your boyfriend. The screen lit up from its place on the table and you spotted the message 'Won't be late, I love you xx' from Peter. "Still thinking about him?" Tony asked, hands massaging your hips. "I'm sorry. The 'baby' reminded me. Don't wanna get caught." Tony nodded in understanding, kissing you deeply. "No one can come in here without my permission, you don't have to worry about anything sweetheart."
His hands guided you to face the table, and you held your breath, feeling the tip of his dick wander between your thighs, and catching onto your clit. Slowly, he pushed his cock into your entrance, inch by inch, watching your body react. You placed both hands on the flat surface of the table, biting your lip as your chest slowly heaved with deep breaths. "Fuck" You mumbled, dropping your head down so you got a clear view of Tony's legs, pressing against the side of your own with his jeans gathered in a bunch around his ankles, your pink panties sticking out of a pocket. With a final, sharp thrust, Tony filled you up, making you wince slightly. The man didn't wait for a 'go-ahead', instead beginning to thrust his hips into yours at a toe-curling pace. Moaning quietly, you pushed your hips back against his, allowing him to hit you at a deeper angle. You yelped at the new angle, allowing Tony to pull your hips back onto his with every hump of his pelvis into you.
With one hand moving to grip your hair, Tony pushed your head forward, causing your entire body to bend over, chest hitting the cold table, making shivers run down your spine. He held you there for a few thrusts before moving his hand back to your hips, trusting you to stay against the tabletop. Little moans escaped you with every sharp smack of Tony's hips against your ass, eyes tearing up with pleasure. Fuck, you shouldn't be doing this, you thought. A sudden sense of dread and guilt filled you, the image of Peter popping up in your mind. Peter, and everything he did for you. He didn't deserve this. But the only thing your mind could focus on was the feeling of every single little ridge of your boyfriend's mentor's cock running along the inside of your pussy, driving you closer to your orgasm with every passing second.
Despite Tony pulling you back onto his cock, his thrusts were so powerful they drove your hips into the sharp edge of the table, sending a splitting pain into your body. The pain blended into pleasure and the pleasure to pain. One of Tony's hands left your hips, trailing down the front of your dress until he could cup your mound. He bunched the fabric of your dress up past your abdomen so that he could rub at your clit harshly without obstruction. "Oh!" Your back arched with the extra friction, and you pushed you ass out, crying out when Tony's second hand came to smack it, likely leaving a hand print in its wake.
"Shit! I'm, I'm gonna cum!" You cried, letting Tony pull your torso up to his chest, hand wrapped loosely around your neck while he encouraged you to cum, fingers working at overstimulating your clit. The knot in your stomach snapped, and you were suddenly having a mind numbing orgasm, causing you to fall limply against Tony's chest, legs giving out under you. The older man tightly wrapped an arm around your waist whilst he kept on thrusting, pulling out last minute and averting his hips so his cum shot out across the table, painting the workplace with white ropes of cum. You leaned your entire weight against the table when the man let go of you, panting heavily in an attempt to catch your breath.
Tony stood with furrowed eyebrows as the last drops of cum dribbled out of his cock, hand stroking his dick to pump them out. You sighed, walking around him and leaning over to stick your hand in the front pocket of his jeans, gathered around his ankles. The man gasped, eyes stuck on your ass, eyes following you and you stood up straight, pulling your underwear back on. Averting your gaze from the man, you let the shame wash onto you, tears pricking at your eyes. You frowned, turning away from Tony in a moment of instant repentance, sitting down the stool he was previously sat in. Tony immediately sensed the change in atmosphere, giving you your space whilst he put his pants back on and cleaned his desk space.
Cautiously, he approached you, putting a hand on your shoulder with a soft "Are you okay, sweetheart?" You nodded, wiping away at any fallen tears and reaching for the wine bottle across the table. Tony stood silently as you took a swing straight from the bottle, recollecting your emotions. "I'm fine." The room was filled with an awkward tranquility, a mutual agreement to sit quietly until Peter returned.
When the door knob finally jiggled and a robotic voice announced "Mr. Stark, Peter is attempting to enter the room. Do I let him in?" You jumped up, walking towards the door as Tony gave permission, wiping at your face to make sure any sign of your tears disappeared. The door opened and Peter walked in, sweat covering his face but a bright smile covering his features nonetheless. "How'd it go?" He asked breathlessly, looking straight into your face. You smiled at your boyfriend, nodding with a small "Good" before throwing your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his lips. Peter's balance was thrown off, stumbling slightly as his arms caught themselves around your waist. His mouth opened in a gasp, allowing you to slip your tongue in, deepening the kiss with him. When you broke the kiss, his cheeks were impossibly rosier, and you mumbled "I missed you." against his slightly chapped lips.
Well, you're definitely never sleeping together again, Tony figured, popping open the bottle of wine once more.
@callsignwidow
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kindersurprisebacterium · 2 days ago
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Facade (Simon Riley / Reader)
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CW: pegging, ass eating, anal fingering, degradation, power bottom Simon, vaginal fingering, mildly dubious consent, brief mentions of: vaginal sex, blow jobs, choking
Gender Neutral AFAB Reader
WC: 3.4k
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I wouldn’t call it an odd fixation, maybe just a persistent one.
It started a couple of months into knowing each other. Strands of damp hair stuck to my forehead. My lips were parted, panting gasps for air escaped my sweaty chest. My eyes locked onto the hulking beast of a man- my lieutenant- as he rubbed a damp cloth up my cumstained thighs, and over my quivering cunt. 
The sex wasn’t boring, if anything it was the opposite. Every second we had together made my heart flutter. Adrenaline coursed through my veins whenever he gave me that look. The one where he stares down at me with half-lidded eyes before quickly glancing away. 
“What if we tried something out?” I asked, resting my hand atop his. The man simply looked up at me expressionlessly, hands still cleaning up the mess he made. He grumbled, not even giving me the courtesy of full words. 
“What if I pegged you?”
He acted as if I cursed his whole lineage in a single breath. His hands quickly pulled away, brown eyes widening. I’d have expected steam to spout from his ears with how he looked at me. 
“No.” He said through gritted teeth. 
I’d have been kidding myself if I said I expected any other reaction. This visage of brooding masculinity, well, he definitely wouldn’t be an easy one to crack. 
It’d be a shame to give up just then, wouldn’t it? 
-
The mattress squealed with every thrust of his hips. Drool spilled from the corners of my parted lips. Soft grunts escaped his pursed lips, crescendoing with every rut of his hips. I draped my limp wrists over his back, fingers trailing down to brush against his sweaty skin. 
I gripped his plump ass, fingers kneading the flesh. A moan slipped from my lips as my fingertip inched closer to his hole. 
His hips stilled, ripping my attention away from his ass. His brows furrowed, nose scrunching up in disgust. In an instant, he gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands, pinning my arms above my head. My vision grew hazy as he roughly gripped my neck with his other hand. His fingertips dug into my carotid arteries, turning every thought of mine into a muddled mess. 
-
My phone buzzed. Instantly I reached out, grabbing the device. My eyes skimmed across the screen. 
It was rare to receive a message from Ghost when he was on a mission. Every day I spent in the dark brought me closer to my phone, gaze flicking to the screen every couple of minutes. I was antsy, fidgeting so much it was hard to stay still, and yet with the two words he sent, my anxiety quelled. 
“Send something.”
He only ever sent those words when his work lulled. I think the entire task force knew he was one to get…pent up…easily. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I dug through my camera roll. I knew exactly what I wanted to send it. 
My lips curled up into a smirk as my gaze grazed the picture in question. It was a photo taken in the dirty mirror that sat behind his door. The lighting was dim, only showing what needed to be shown. And that was the bit of skin I teased. My thumb pushed down the hem of my jeans just enough to show it. The straps of my leather strap on perfectly framing my hip bones. 
A soft whooshing played over my phone speaker as I sent the message. 
“Read 21:48”
But no response.
-
“Fuck that’s it,” he groaned, threading his thick fingers through my hair. Drool ran down my chin as I swirled my tongue around his head. I looked up at my lieutenant. His plush lips were parted, heaving breaths falling from his tongue. He lay flat against the mattress, arm draped over his face. 
I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, stroking him as my tongue dipped lower. I licked a thick stripe over his balls before bringing one into my mouth. He grunted, thrusting his cock into my hand. 
“Shit- I’m close- “ He mumbled. With a soft pop, I pulled off of his balls. The salty tinge of sweat-stained my tongue as I brought my mouth back to his twitching cock. I ran my hand up his muscular thigh, keeping the other one at the base of his cock. My gaze raked up and down his flushed frame as I slowly traced my fingers higher. 
My fingers ran up his inner thigh, drawing tantalizingly close to his twitching hole. So close, so delectably close.
He gripped my hair tight, shoving my head down onto his cock. I gagged as the tip of his cock nudged my uvula. My drool drenched the curls adorning the base of his cock. 
“That’s what you get,” he grunted, cock twitching as he came down my throat. 
I pulled away as his grip broke. Globs of cum and drool ran down my face. Hot tears streamed down my flushed cheeks, parted lips quivering as I gasped for air. 
“That’s what you fuckin’ get.”
-
I gnawed on the nail of my thumb. A throbbing pain settled into my flesh as I chewed the keratin to a nub. Incoherent yelling echoed down the hallway. I swallowed, knowing Simon was in that room, and he wasn’t the type to yell. 
It was simply a new recruit making a mistake. Not looking where he walked. But as Lieutenant, Simon was in charge of him, accountable for every stupid decision his subordinates made. 
The whirring sound of propellers disappeared into the distance. Who knows if the kid would make it to the hospital alive? 
The screaming ceased, only followed by incoherent mumbles and the sound of the creaking door hinge. He looked dejected, and stiff, as he left the room. His brown eyes quickly found me. The heels of his combat boots clicked against the tile as he swiftly approached. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, dragging me behind as he stormed down the corridor. 
“Wait, what happened?” I asked, struggling to keep up with his long gait. He gave me nothing but a grumble in response. “Simon, please talk to me.”
He pulled me into his dormitory, quickly kicking the door shut. He stood in silence, shoulders heaving with every deep breath he sucked in. His blue eyes stared down at me, hulking frame shrouding me in shadow. I was quiet, my heart pounding in my ears as I looked at the man towering over me. 
“You wanna fuck me?” He spat. I stammered, at a complete loss of words. My brows furrowed, eyes flicking around his face. Maybe, surely, it was just a joke. “Speak,” he spoke sternly.  
“Yes-“ I sputtered. 
“Fine,” he clenched his jaw tightly, “but I’m in fucking charge.” He punctuated his poignant words with a push of his index finger against my sternum. I nodded, watching as he turned toward the bed. He stepped forward until the frame met his shins. His belt buckle clattered as he quickly undid it. With a thud, he dropped the belt to the floor. 
“On your knees,” he spoke over his shoulder. Without another word, I kneeled before him, watching as he pushed his jeans over his hips. The denim pooled at his ankles. He leaned forward, shifting his weight onto his hands, palms flat against the mattress. 
I felt hot, unbearably so, with his ass so close to my face. I glided my palms up the back of his thighs and over his ass. A soft noise left my lips as my fingers kneaded his plush ass. 
“Go on. This was your idea,” he glanced at me over his shoulders. I felt myself quiver under his judging glare. I leaned in, pressing a kiss to his heated skin, only to lean back and watch as I slowly spread him open. His hole clenched, almost as if winking at me. Licking my lips, I leaned in, running my tongue over the muscle. 
My eyelids fluttered closed as I circled my tongue around his hole. His hand finds my head, holding me flush against his ass. Soft licks slowly grew firmer, only for me to pull back. I craved any reaction from him, any little noise slipping from his throat would’ve driven me mad. 
I turned, sinking my teeth into the flesh of his ass before bringing my attention back to his hole. Drool ran down my chin, coating his ass in a thin sheen. I moaned against his ass as I used my palms to spread him wider. 
A faint grunt, just loud enough to hear, fell from his parted lips. I furrowed my brows, leaning in closer. The tip of my tongue circled the tight muscle before pushing forward, just barely nudging past his hole. 
“Fucking slag,” he spat, holding me flush to his ass. I dipped my tongue further inside him. The tip of my nose nudged against his tailbone. 
His hand left my head, resting on the bed frame. I could feel his thighs quiver under my touch. Pulling back, I spread him wide. I gathered a pool of saliva on my tongue before spitting onto his twitching hole. The pads of my fingers circled his hole before sinking in. 
I pushed the digits forward until my knuckles grazed his taint. His shoulders heaved with every shaky breath he took.
“Doin’ so good, Si,” I cooed, pressing kisses to his ass. 
“Don’t fuckin-” his words faltered as I slowly pumped the digits in and out of him. I could feel him slowly loosen up around my fingers. The tips of my digits curled, searching for the spot within that would have him seeing stars. 
“Hurry up,” he grumbled. I sunk another finger into him. The digits disappeared with a lewd squelch. “And use more lube.”
He pushed an unopened bottle of lube in my face. Leaning back, I grasped the bottle in my hand. The cap popped open with a soft click. I pulled my digits out and squirted a generous helping over my skin. He let out a low groan as I slid my slicked fingers back inside of him. 
His hole sucked my fingers in greedily. With a breathy whine, I sped up my pace. My knuckles met his ass with every thrust. I couldn’t help but wonder if he prepped himself, or maybe he was just that eager. 
He stared down at me with brown eyes, drawing my attention from his twitching hole. Silently, he narrowed his eyes at me. My fingers stilled inside of him, heart pounding in my ears. 
“Get the strap.”
Without a word, I withdrew my fingers with a soft pop. I rose to my feet, turning to the nightstand. I threw open the drawers, shoving aside his neatly folded socks. My heart quickened as my fingertips brushed against cold silicone. I freed the strap from its hiding place, slipping the loops over my ankles. 
“No.” He grumbled, piercing gaze shooting through me. “Take ‘em off first.” His brown eyes flicked down to my sweatpants. I stepped out of the harness, dropping it onto the mattress. My fingertips slid underneath the band, pushing the thick cotton fabric over my hips. The cloth pooled at my ankles. He grunted, gaze locked onto my boxers- his boxers. 
Goosebumps covered my bare thighs as I kicked the two items aside. I reached out toward the strap, only for his fingers to wrap tightly around my wrist. He pursed his lips, teeth gritting. 
“Shirt off,” he spat. A breathy noise caught in my throat. His gaze didn’t leave mine as I pulled my shirt over my head. His brown eyes flicked to my bare chest. With a grunt, his tongue darted out, licking across his chapped lips. 
He watched as I slowly approached the bed, reaching for the harness. His half-lidded eyes sparked with some kind of foreign feeling. Hunger. For what, I didn’t know. 
I fastened the buckles in place. The silicone bobbed as I turned toward Simon. I felt- embarrassed, powerless even, face burning as he furrowed his brows. 
“Get on with it,” he grunted. With shaking hands I grabbed the bottle of lube, spreading a thick glob over the silicone. Not bothering to pay it any mind, I tossed the bottle somewhere on the bed. I wrapped my fingers around the dildo, spreading the slick over its length. I ran my palm up Simon's back, sliding down to his ass. The faint taste of iron tinged my tongue as I bit down on my bottom lip. I spread him open with my palm. My other hand guided the head of my cock to his awaiting hole. 
I nudged my hips forward just enough to push the head of my cock inside of him. His head dropped, fingers firmly gripping the duvet. A soft noise, barely audible over my racing heart, rose from his chest. Taking his moan as permission, I slowly inched the silicone inside of him. 
I watched as his hole swallowed every inch of my cock. Watched as his thighs quivered. Watched as his half-lidded eyes stole glances of me from over his shoulder. 
The leather harness met his ass as I bottomed out inside of him. As if my mind hadn’t bothered to process it, I stared down at where our bodies met. The realization donned on me that this was finally happening. I was finally inside of him. 
“Fucking move-” he spat, sparing me just a quick glance. My breath hitched as I pulled out, only to thrust forward. I dug my fingers into his plush ass, guiding his hips back against me with every thrust. My lips parted, a soft moan falling from my tongue. His ass jiggled with every slap against my hips. 
Heat sparked in my core. I pressed my thighs together, directing my focus back to the man in front of me. 
“Quit staring and fuck me harder.” 
“Sorry-” I sputtered. My hands slid up his back, pushing his chest against the covers. The mattress squeaked as I propped my knee up on the edge of the bed. I grunted, pistoning my hips forward into him. 
“Not half bad.” He punctuated his words with a breathless groan. His jaw went slack, eyebrows screwing together as I sped up. 
“Harder-” he spoke softly, biting back pent-up noises that threatened to spill from his chest. The headboard slammed against the wall with every thrust of my hips. Every nudge of my cock head against his prostate drew murmured moans from the hulking man.
“Harder,” he grunted again. Rhythmic slapping and thudding filled the room. His moans, growing more and more unrestrained by the minute, melded into a sort of devious symphony. 
I spread him open, watching him swallow every inch of my cock. A mix of lube and spit ran down his taint. He was practically glistening in the light. 
“Put your-” his words were cut off by a deep, rumbling groan. “-hips into it.” I spat onto his hole, smirking as I watched him clasp a hand over his mouth. Muffled grunts rose from his chest. 
“You really aren’t as tough as you look, Lieutenant,” I laughed, thinking I’d finally gotten the man to succumb. My breath caught in my throat as he pushed me onto my back in an instant. He straddled my waist, wide eyes staring down at me. 
“I told you I’m in charge,” he spoke through gritted teeth. Without breaking eye contact, he reached behind himself, fingers delving between my thighs. I was drenched, slick spreading down my inner thighs. He smirked, running his fingers up and down my folds. 
“Fucking drooling,” his palm landed on my cunt, a soft slap echoing through the silent room. “You’re the one who wanted this, huh?”
I wordlessly nodded, biting back tears that welled in my eyes. A deep chuckle bellowed from his toned chest. I pursed my lips, my bottom lip quivering as I looked up at the man. 
“We’re not stopping until I finish.” He shifted his weight onto his knees, head tilting back as he slowly sunk down onto my cock. I reached out, grasping every bit of skin that I could. My fingers kneaded his thighs, his stomach, his ass. 
“Stroke my cock,” he stated plainly as he tugged my hand toward his leaking length. I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, slowly stroking up and down his length. 
He bounced himself on my length, eyelids fluttering closed. A long, drawn-out moan fell from his lips. Teardrops soaked his lashes. 
I was desperate, rubbing my thighs tightly together. The visage of this man, this brooding Lieutenant shattered like a facade as he used me for his pleasure. 
I spat into my palm before bringing it back to his cock. Precum beaded from the flushed tip. I could feel him twitch in my hand as I matched my pace with his. 
“Simon,” I whined. 
“Shut up, I’m close.” He spoke through a stream of short, erratic moans. His fingers tightly gripped the headboard. The mattress squealed beneath us as he used the leverage to fuck himself harder onto my cock. 
“Fuck- fuck!” He groaned, pace growing more arrhythmic as he reached his orgasm. Thick ropes of hot cum spurted over my chest and face. I squeezed my eyes closed, tongue lolling out in a poor attempt to catch his spend. 
His hips stilled, cock twitching as I gave him one last teasing stroke. His sweaty chest heaved as he caught his breath, brown eyes staring down at me. With a soft squelch, he pulled off of my cock, sitting by my side. He hastily undid the buckles of my harness and yanked the leather from my hips. I whined, brows furrowing as he tossed it to the side. 
“Dirty fucking bitch,” he growled, pulling me into his lap. His palm pushed my face into the covers, while the other landed harshly on my ass. The tears in my eyes that threatened to spill had finally relented. A puddle of drool and tears soaked into the duvet. 
His fingers swiped through my folds, gathering my arousal on his digits. My back arched, hips pushing back against his hand. He chuckled, pushing two fingers inside of me. I moaned at the intrusion.
He was rough, and forceful. My cunt squelched around his fingers. My eyes strained, painfully throbbing as they rolled back. I choked out a sob into the comforter. 
“You wanted this, so you better take it,” he grumbled. 
My body felt weak, pins and needles pricking my extremities. I was close, painfully so. Every thrust of his digits had my stomach clenching, bracing for the inevitable climax. 
“Fuck!” My words came out as more of a scream than a moan as he pushed me into the bounds of overstimulation. 
I clenched around his digits, cunt spasming as I came. Fluid gushed from my slick folds, soiling the already tainted duvet. My thighs quivered, toes curling. 
My body heaved as I sobbed, but he didn’t stop. He pistoned his in and out of me, pace not faltering for a moment. I turned my head, glancing at the man over my shoulder. 
“Please!” I choked out a sob. Snot ran down my cupids bow. 
“Oh, come on, one minute you’re begging and the next you’re crying,” he spat, giving another harsh smack to my ass. My skin turned red with irritation. “You’re gonna give me another,”
I sobbed, spit leaking from my parted lips. My breaths were shallow and ragged, and the lack of oxygen made my head spin. 
In a moment I grew silent, jaw going slack in a silent scream as another wave of pleasure wracked my bones. I kicked my legs, only for the man to hold me still, pummeling my quivering cunt. 
I sobbed, crying out his name. Hot tears ran down my blotchy cheeks. Snot sank into the fibers of the blanket below me. My throat ached, voice growing hoarse as my moans steadily declined until the two of us sat in silence. 
I didn’t know when, or how, but when my eyelids fluttered open, I was in his arms. I grumbled, tucking myself into his warm embrace. His chapped lips pressed soft kisses along my sweaty forehead. 
“You did so good,” he cooed, pulling back to meet my gaze. I felt a flame ignite in my face. My lips curled into a smile. He leaned in, softly kissing the tip of my nose. I chuckled, nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck. 
“It wasn’t too much?” He asked, fingers tracing incoherent patterns into my sticky skin. 
“No. I promise,” I mumbled against his collarbone. His fingers traced along my jawline before moving to tuck my hair behind my ear. 
“I wouldn’t mind doing that again,” he muttered under his breath.
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Masterlist
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purrassicjet · 10 months ago
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2x23 is such a BANGER of an episode. I'm a slut for good character driven stories and Jane's whole arc of feelings in that episode is just executed SO WELL. When he goes into the bathroom while on the date and unmasks? Banger. When he sees Kristina on TV and his heartbeat plays loudly in the back? Banger. When Red John appears for the first time and delivers Jane a riddle? Banger. When he goes home to his single mattress and the bloody smile? Banger. Banger. Banger. Banger. An episode for the rewatching for SURE
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osaemu · 1 year ago
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ YES, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, AND YES, SHE'S REAL! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when your gamer boyfriend brings you on-screen for the first time?
contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns + reader is referred to as gojo's girlfriend. toji slander bcs he deserves it.
author's note: everyone welcome streamer!gojo to the world! he'll be here for a while...
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"oh, please," satoru laughs, leaning back and grinning at the screen in front of him. he tosses his hair, but it falls back into his eyes just seconds later. "no way you guys all thought i would lose that one. c'mon, have some faith in me!"
you watch satoru reply to the hundreds of comments lighting up the side of his monitor, smiling endearingly at the way he laughs at some and practically chortles at others.
it was only after the two of you started dating that satoru disclosed his streaming hobby, and to your surprise, he was pretty popular. thousands of people tuned in to watch him play some game or another every night, and well, it paid better than you'd expect.
satoru whistles, hands resting comfortably behind his head as a particular question catches his attention. "ah, do i have a girlfriend?" he muses, grinning as he shoots a quick side-glance at you. "yeah," he continues, snorting when what looks like a flurry of no fucking way's flood the chat.
he clicks his tongue disappointedly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "what, did all eight thousand of you think i couldn't pull? thanks a lot," satoru deadpans, waving his hand and sighing dramatically. "i don't know what any of you mean. i'm a catch!"
you snicker at that, and your laughter only increases when satoru turns and gapes at you. he juts his bottom lip out, face sinking into an adorable pout at he crosses his arms. "even my own girlfriend's laughing at me," he mumbles petulantly. "hmph!"
satoru sticks his tongue out at you childishly, and you blow a kiss back. he pretends to faint before turning back to his monitor, quickly skimming the comments before he gasps. "what do you mean, she probably doesn't exist?!" he sputters, clutching his heart exaggeratedly.
the look on his face is priceless — imagine getting told by thousands of people that one, they think you can't pull, and two, that they don't even believe your significant other exists. naturally, satoru reacts as dramatically as ever. he pretends to ignore everyone in the comments before calling them out individually.
"oh, i see you, toji... fishy-guru," satoru gripes, wagging his finger at his screen. "my girlfriend exists and she's mine! don't even think about it." he pauses, squinting at the chat before correcting himself with an eyeroll. "fushiguro. whatever. either way, she's real and she's all mine."
satoru swivels his chair to face you, making an incredulous face as he gestures to the screen. "can you believe this?" he grumbles, ocean-blue eyes focused on you. "these guys don't think you're real."
you shrug, toying with the corner of his sheets as you smile back at satoru. he's so childish, but that's just one of the many things you adore about him. sure, he's an annoying brat, but at least he's a total sweetheart too.
your boyfriend extends his hand, beckoning you to come over to him. "c'mon, darling," he cooes, scrunching up his nose at you. "wanna help me prove these losers wrong?" satoru mouths please, and the puppy eyes he gives you are cute enough to convince you.
so you hop off his bed, running a hand through your hair as you stroll over to where he sits in front of his monitor. beaming like a kid on his birthday, satoru takes your hand and twines his fingers with yours.
smiling smugly, satoru pulls you on screen and into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. you watch the chat erupt with she's real's and how did he pull a girl like her's and smile, flicking satoru's forehead affectionately.
he ignores the thousands of dumbstruck users in his comments and holds you close to his chest, adjusting his grip on your waist to make his lap as comfortable as possible for you. satoru's adoring eyes are fixed on you, only you, even as his chat explodes.
suguru-geto: haha i already knew
toji-fushiguro: how the fuck did a loser like him pull her?
yuuji-itadori: gojo has a girlfriend??? what did i miss??
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sttoru · 8 months ago
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𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.
wc. 1.5k-ish
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines
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“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.
you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.
everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.
“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.
you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.
you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”
you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.
you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.
the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.
sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”
your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.
“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.
the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.
you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.
there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.
“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.
unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.
you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.
“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.
however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.
you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.
sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.
“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.
the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.
you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.
“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.
sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.
the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.
the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.
which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.
sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”
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CR. STTORU 2024
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kamitv · 30 days ago
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Love the idea of Gojo who’s lowkey a perv but had done a pretty good job at hiding it up until he called you one day and overheard you getting fucked by your husband, who just so happens to be his best friend Suguru.
It’s instant the way his cock jumps to life at the wet squelches heard over the phone. Hell, even when Suguru very clearly told him the way he was fucking you to tears, Gojo couldn’t help but palm himself to soothe that growing ache.
Then the words, “Y'Mind if I stay on the phone and listen?” Came pouring out of his mouth faster than he meant for them to.
Truth be told, it was more of a thought that was never supposed to leave his brain and yet here he is now; tugging at his cock to the erotic sounds of you moaning out his best friend’s name. Gojo’s dick was slicked with a filthy mix of precum and his own spit, making it easy for his hand to glide up and down his long shaft.
His phone was on max volume, sounds of Suguru spewing out such filth to you stirring up Gojo even more. Then there was every delicate moan you let out…
Suguru’s got such a way with words too. Dirty talk flows past his lips effortlessly and it makes Gojo’s cock painfully twitch against his palm.
“Show me how deep I am baby, c’mon, you can point f’me, can’t you?” Fuck. Gojo can only toss his head back and squeeze his eyes shut, fisting his weeping tip faster by the second. “Thaaat’s it, pretty girl. Yeahh, y’feel me riiight here, huhh?”
His imagination is running absolutely wild given the audio porn he’s been allowed to listen to. Everything is so loud—you’re so loud. He can practically picture the way you’re layed out under Suguru, vivid images of your pussy lips bulging around his best friend’s thick cock as he fucks himself to the hilt of your cunt.
Gojo can hear each time Suguru hits the right spot, he can tell based off of that particularly filthy squelch that rings throughout his eardrums. Which is usually followed by a hitched gasp of Suguru’s name, and then a hiss (presumably because you’ve left yet another long scratch on his back).
Gojo doesn’t know what’s louder at this point—you or your cunt. “S-Shiit-,” He gasps, hips bucking up into his fist as he hones in on the drooling slicked sounds of your pussy leaving a messy coat of cum around Suguru’s cock. “So fuckin’ wet,” Gojo whispers to himself, squeezing his eyes shut.
His slim fingers curl around the base of his cock tightly as he hears Suguru use him as a means to tease you. “See? I told you she was loud t’day,” He teases you with this big fucked out smirk on his face while his thrusts grow sloppy.
“Even Satoru can hear how fuckin—“ Suguru pauses to spit down onto your cunt, “—Sloppy she is.”
Gojo lets out a throaty whine at the way his friend is actually including him in this. His wrist is starting to cramp with how fast he’s jerking himself off, cracking open his squeezed eyes just to see the mess he’s steadily making of himself.
All because of you. Gojo knows it’s wrong to think about it, he knows it’s wrong to fantasize about you but he can’t fucking help it. Every time Suguru brings you around you’ve always got the pretty smile on your face and you always smell so mind-numbingly good.
Gojo was a perv long before Suguru and you started dating, and things didn’t change at all when the two of you got married.
Ring on your finger be damned. Gojo can only imagine the way you’d sound moaning his name instead, how it’d flow off of your plump spit slicked lips, the way your eyes would lull back when he fucks into you deep enough.
And hell if Suguru ever lets him actually fuck you. He could only imagine the look on his friend’s face as he watches Gojo fuck you down into the mattress, bringing his hand down on to your stomach and pressing hard onto the bulge his thick cock creates—watching you choke on your own moans and lose your mind in pleasure.
Gojo wants you bad. He wants to fuck Suguru’s darling wife and he knows its wrong. He knows he should be happy with what he’s got right now and the mere opportunity of being able to listen in like this but..
“Oh! F-Fuuck.. right there Sugu,” You’re heard whining out. All Gojo can do is imagine it. He can imagine the look on your face right now, how your body twitches as Suguru’s thumb swats at your soddened clit, making your legs go numb and your face contort into something so utterly lewd.
Suguru’s busy pouting at you, mocking your little whine just now. “Aw, baby… Don’t be ruude. Satoru’s on the phone bein’ all perverted ‘nd listenin’ to ya’, you could thank him too y’know..”
Gojo’s mind blanks at the prospect of simply hearing you moan his name. Why would Suguru suggest that?? Does he… Is he as into this as Gojo is? Does this turn him on too?
You’re barely even lucid at this point, completely fucked to pure bliss. “Toruu’,” You gasp, “Hnngh… t-thank you.”
Right then and there, Gojo’s cumming. His eyes meet the back of his damn skull and he’s groaning freely and carelessly, causing your soaked walls to milk the fuck out of Geto’s cock.
All three of you are feeling pleasure beyond expected from this. Gojo’s huffing and puffing curses and small desperate whines of your name, picturing himself fucking you full of his cum instead of his fist. Geto’s above you drilling you into the couch to the point where your eyes cross and you can’t even moan anymore.
And you…
Well, you’re eventually woken up by your husband, Suguru, who’s a bit confused as to why you’d been making all these noises in your sleep… Especially seeing as Gojo was sitting on the couch right next to you.
“Call me crazy but,” Suguru narrows his eyes at your dazed face, “M’pretty sure I heard you moanin’ both of our names, gorgeous.”
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kentopedia · 10 months ago
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nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.
so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.
still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.
the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.
he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.
because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.
it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.
naturally, no one came back twice.
he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.
though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.
by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.
by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.
on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.
he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.
“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”
“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“
but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.
“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”
a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”
though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.
“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“
“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”
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s0dium · 6 months ago
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THAT'S A RED FLAG BABY
JJK MEN AND RED FLAGS
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A/n: Yessirrrr MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Synopsis: Jujutsu men and their red flag in a relationship or generally and how it shows through when they fuck
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Yuuta Okkatsu, Sukuna Ryomen, Choso
Warnings: Emotional abuse, narcissism, controlling behavior, dub-con, semi-public sex, spitting, fingering, rough sex, male masturbation, degrading, praise, teasing
~
Gojo Satoru- Narcissist  
Since he was a kid, Gojo has been praised and called many things
The honored one, the strongest, gifted and so on
But what people don't see is behind those beautiful sapphire eyes, is a goddamn narcissist through and through
He thinks, no he knows that he is the best, best at everything
This includes what goes on in bed.
And its not only that, the white-haired fox only cares about himself too in the sheets, abusing his unnatural stamina and using you like a cock sleeve for his own taste
At least he can be nice about it sometimes
Gojo is relentless. Its almost like your his personal cock sleeve, his dick shaping your insides and abusing your cervix despite your choked sobs and whines for him to stop, to simply slow down. He holds the back of your head with his hand, allowing you to look down at the way you two are connected; how he retracts his hips until his tip barely pokes out, admiring the slick coating his shaft before slamming back into you again.
"Ahhh~ P-please Satoru please...."
Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs. Why were the people that surrounded him always so weak? Even you. It's a good thing you feel like heaven he could almost forgive you.
Tears stream down your face. Every time the tip of his dick rams against your cervix a powerful feeling mixed with pain and pleasure that surges through your body making you tremble and shake. You're losing your mind. Everything is so good, and, God, you can't ignore how handsome Gojo looks right now. His white hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and the muscles of his toned abdomen are flexing and unflexing. He is gorgeous, and, boy, he knows it. Even the way your pussy squeezes and spasms around his dick sends more bolts of electric pleasure to dance through your skim.
"Shhhh, just take it 'kay? You're doing so good for me baby." Gojo coos.
Geto Suguru -Controlling
It starts off small, a comment here and there on your choice of friends, a small criticism on where you were going to spend the evening because wouldn't you have much more fun spending it with him?
Then he's starting to pick out outfits for you. Modest but pretty ones for outside but short skimpy clothes for when you're only with him. It even gets to the point where he is controlling your finances, making you only use his credit card, and its not about the money, you can use as much as you want for all he cares. It's about the control, you being helplessly reliant on him.
And Geto has such an easy time getting away with his controlling tendencies, showering you in praises and sweet nothings about how he just wants to protect you. And the way his violet eyes gleam at you, you almost always believe him.
Don't for a second think that he's insecure because it's far from it. The raven-haired man just wants to have you all to himself, he just wants to protect you from the cruel cruel world out there.
"Didn't I tell you to ask me first if you are going to wear an outfit like that?" Geto whispers in your ear but you can barely focus on his words. The curl of his fingers inside you is just too numbing; the way it hits, prods, and massages a spot deep inside your walls that you can only dream about reaching on your own. Geto's fingers are so thick too, almost filling you up as deliciously as his dick does. Almost. "Mmm- I- I, I didn't-" You gasp for air and try to bury your face into your hands. He currently has you against a wall of some bathroom stall but that fact seemed all but lost to you right now. The pleasure was building in your core and fast. Your legs were starting to shake and a numbing electric feeling had taken course throughout your body. You didn't have to open your eyes to know that Geto was smirking.
Suddenly, Goto curls his fingers in a way that deeply presses your g-spot and the dam of pleasure that had built inside you breaks. Your jaw goes slack and your whole body trembles with electricity.
"Didn't expect for you to crack so easily" he chuckles against your ear, and you collapse into his chest. Yuta Okkatsu- Too obsessed
You would think this is a good thing right? You could never love someone too much, but it was different with Yuuta
Sure you had a crush on him, sure you touched yourself to him plenty of times (which Yuuta knew of very well) so the feelings weren't all that unreciprocated
But theres a line, there's a line that Yuta always seems to cross
From taking pictures of you to texting you constantly, christ you even found your panties in his drawer, yuta love was overwhelming.
Yuuta knows that he should wake you up, but he cant bring himself too right now. You just look so beautiful, so perfect under the soft glow of the night sky. Also, he just feels so good right now, Yuuta can barely think so much as speak. "Mmmm-mmm" he whimpers against the pillow, slowly grinding his clothed erection against your bare leg. How would you react if you knew your boyfriend was humping you while you sleep? Would you push him away? No no you're too kind for that, you would probably help him, probably pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings until he finished. Yes, if he knew for a fact that you'd help him when you wake up, what's stopping you from helping you now? Careful not to wake you up, he picks up your hand. It's so small compared to his but wraps so well around his throbbing member. He glides your thumb across his red tip to collect the precum before slowly sliding your hand up and down. The pleasure is immediate. It makes him bury his face into your neck to to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses along your skin.
Sukuna Ryomen- Sadist
Where to start with Sukuna. Sukuna is the red flag.
Actually, even that is a complete understatement. Sukuna is straight-up cruel, rather he is a sadist through and through.
Manipulation, degrading, humiliation....although he wouldn't physically abuse you, with emotional abuse he won't hesitate.
You expect compassion, sympathy, and kindness from him? Fat chance. It is hard to see Sukuna being in any relationship at all.
Sukuna certainly doesn't love you, but he sure does love the sex though
Like any good sadist, his sexual pleasure derives from your physical or emotional suffering.
"Aw look at you, fucked you dumb did I?" Sukuna chuckles. A tattooed hand snakes between to your cunt, lightly rubbing your clit before delivering a sharp slap to the nerve.
Your eyes widen and your hips instantly buck up, unintentionally sending his dick deeper into you. The position he has you in is brutal. Both of your legs are thrown over Sukuna's shoulders and pressed against your chest, effectively folding you in half. "Open ya mouth" He orders, but you are too lost in the pleasure that is blooming in your stomach, the pleasure that is making your cunt flutter and squeeze desperately around his fat cock. "I said open." Sukuna delivers a particularly harsh thrust before stilling inside you; keeping the tip of his dick smushed against your cervix. The sudden movement snaps you out of your haze and you obediently widen your mouth letting your tongue hang out. Sukuna lets a glob of spit fall from his lips onto your awaiting tongue. You don't need to be told to swallow, you do so on habit, giving him a soft smile as you do so.
"Fuck, ya so perfect, such a good girl."
Choso- Jealous 
Choso is the type of man who keeps to himself. The type of man to blend in a group or fade into the background.
But that doesn't mean he notices things. In fact, he notices things a bit too well.
Was that your coworker who touched your shoulder? You say that he is just a friend but who should a friend be able to touch you so easily?
He won't hesitate to bring up what he notices either, he says he's not accusing you of anything, that he trusts you, but he totally is.
He hates it when people get to close to his brothers so it posits that he loathes it when it comes to his lover.
How did you get here? How did an argument turn into this?
You want to scream, you want to thrash and tell Choso that he's got it all wrong, that you didn't mean to see your guy friend when you went out to have lunch. It was just a harmless bump-in that turned into a long conversation. Thats it. But the feeling of Choso's dick filling you up, his harsh thrusts and the fucking delicious friction of the drag, Jesus, it's just- it's just so good your mind that your mind is a white sheet.
You are on all fours but you don't know how much longer you can keep the position up. Not with the way he's ramming your pussy from behind.
“You are mine," he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal is brutal. "Mine," he swears, and he pulls you up so your back is pressed against him and you are upright. Choso doesn’t slow his movement though, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing up and down from the harshness of it all.
“You wanna cum? Good, cum."
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sunarc · 1 year ago
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Dilf Toji fucks you nice and slow when you’re done putting Megumi down for bed. He wants to thank you for being so good to him and his son. As a single dad it gets hard so when you came into the picture offering your services it was hard to deny such a genuine offer. You’re so good to Megumi, gentle, kind and patient. Toji can’t help the growing bulge in his pants when he sees you being such a strong mother figure. He has to show you his gratitude. The best way he can do that is by having you in a mating press so he can fuck you nice and deep. 
“You like that?” his voice is a soft hum. 
You feel dizzy. His cock feels so deep. He’s stretching you out more than ever before. You call out his name in a soft whimper.
“Yeah? I’m right here doll don't worry I’m not going anywhere” he groans.
Toji’s obsessed with the way you look taking his cock. Your hole looks so perfect clenching, barely able to fit all of him. You look so full, Toji can’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum drooling out of you. He has to see it. He’s determined to fuck you full of his cum. His cock plunges in and out of you creating a pattern. Your moans fall past your lips making a tune Toji never wants to forget. 
“That’s it, good girl, say my name” you sound so pretty to him. “Tell me who fucks you this good, say it , tell me no one can make you shake like this, no one can fill this pussy up the way i can”
He’s never felt himself lose control like this before. There’s something about you, something that leaves him desperate for more. He craves you, desires you every waking second. The way your lips part letting pleads and moans drip off your tongue has him losing his mind. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he should be quiet but the way your cunt feels squeezing him so tight he thinks he just might lose his mind. “That feel good baby? Yeah I know” he coos “I’m gonna fuck you so full” his pace is picking up speed. 
His mind is practically blank thinking of how he wants to fill you to the brim with his cum. No that’s not enough he needs to give you every last drop he has. 
“You need my cum don’t you” he’s desperate to hear you say it. He’s practically begging to hear you asking for his cum. Tell him how much you want his babies. He can make you a mommy. Don’t you want him to make you a mommy?
“Our baby is gonna be so beautiful” he whispers. He isn’t sure if you can hear him but he doesn’t mind as long as you’re still losing your mind calling out his name. 
“That’s right” he growls “Say my name while I fuck a baby into you”
His hand push your thighs further down so he can reach deeper. The way he drags his cock past you slick walls has you shaking. Your words come out slurred. 
“It’s too big” you whine as he goes deeper
“No no you can take it.” he bites he lips continuing his long deep strokes. He knows you can take it. Your eyes roll back when he begins grinding his hips into you. He knows he’s hit the spot he’s been searching for. 
“There she is” he chuckles. 
You can barely contain the moans now. Your body is shaking uncontrollably. 
“Please” you gasp “S-slow down, I’m gonna make a mess” you cry.
Toji loves the sound of that. He thrust pick up speed, fucking into you even harder. 
“That’s it, just like that, make a mess on my cock.”
He’s desperately chasing after his own orgasm. He wants to cum with you. His thrust are sloppy. He’s moaning your name pleading for you to cum for him. 
“Cum-fuck Now” he demands. 
You can’t help the juices the splatter against his abs as he fucks his load into you. The two of you are a moaning mess. You ramble incoherent words paired with his name. His eyes are glued on the sticky mess between the two of you. The squelching sounds of his cock fucking his cum back in fill the room. 
“What a pretty sight this is. I hope it’s a girl” he moans “She’ll have your eyes” 
You can barely give him a reply to focused on the way his cock is still plunging in and out. 
“It’s too much” you slur.
“No baby it’s not enough” he groans “I gotta make sure this tummy is full of my cum. One more just one more okay”
Toji has plans on fucking way more than just one more load into you. He has to fuck you full until he’s sure of it you’ll be the one carrying Megumi’s little sister.
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sooniebby · 6 months ago
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ఌ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘
W.C › 6.4k
Warning › bottom male reader. Reader has a cock and is mentioned to have slept with girls and boys. No set character, this is an OC, but you can imagine anyone
Plot › basically just this idea I had but expanded
Kinks › manhandling, accidental creampie, cross dressing, lite feminization, mirror sex, hint of dom/sub relation
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
To say you were a playboy was an understatement. New girl every week was you being nice. Now, as a senior, you didn’t care as much anymore.
Which led you to your current predicament.
You’d practically ran through the entire school by now and you were… bored.
The first years didn’t interest you. And you’d already gone through the pretty people in third and second year. It was looking like you’d have to start branching out to schools nearby.
A sigh left you as you plopped down at your seat, flicking at a lint of dust on your desk. It was lunch time and you weren’t feeling hungry. Well you were hungry for sex but not for food.
“Man, (L.Name), view this as a good thing! It’s lucky you haven’t gotten an STD by now.” Your friend, Ryun, said as he ate from his bento box. You only gave him a huff.
“I use condoms. They work, 99.9%!”
“Sure. I’m surprised none of the girls have gotten pregnant yet.”
Ryun let out a howl as you kicked his knee underneath the desk. “I fuck guys too! You should be wondering if I’m pregnant.”
“Wha—(L.Name), you can’t get pregnant.”
You shrugged. “You never know.”
“Are you insane?”
“Should you really be asking the resident slut that?” A voice cut in. Your eyebrows rose as you turned to see who was so bold to call you that only to see it was another one of your friends.
“Sana…! That’s so mean! I’m not a slut.” You whined as she plopped down at the desk beside you. She only gave you a knowing look before digging into her own bento.
“Ryun!” You looked straight at him. “Am I a slut?”
“Do you really want me to answer that…?”
“GAH!! Ryun~~~!” You whined, pouting heavily as you rubbed at your face in annoyance. The two ignored your childish behavior as you finally began to start eating your bento. It was a comfortable silence for a moment before a ding popped in your head.
“Oh no…” Ryun muttered, knowing that look in your eyes.
You leaned in close, grinning. “Guys.. This senior year, I should go for someone special!”
Sana sighed. “Who? Who haven’t you fucked by now?”
A teasing grin pulled on your lips as you motioned for them to come closer. As they pulled in, you looked around to make sure no one was ease dropping and giggled in excitement.
“Ito Yuki.”
A pin could be heard as Ryun and Sana stared at you for a moment. Their faces slowly contorting into something of pure disgust and disappointment.
“Him?! Student Council president, Ito Yuki?!” Sana whispered yelled.
“Mhm. I’ve never even noticed him before until now! You should’ve seen him. He still has those ugly glasses but he’s buffed up! What’s he training for?” You joked, laughing loudly in the quiet classroom.
Ryun groaned. “No way. Ito doesn’t date. Ever since he got ‘buff’ he has had girls tripping for him. But he’s turned them down! Every last one of them.”
Sana nodded in agreement. “Yeah. No way he’d get with you—especially with your reputation of dumping people after a week!”
“But that’s a good thing!” You cried. “If he’s never dated before, that means he’s a virgin!! Inexperienced!! Those are the best, especially in boys!”
“Gross, (L.Name).” The two said in unison.
You pouted. “Aah! You guys don’t understand!”
“I’d rather not,” Ryun countered.
“You’re just really perverted, (L.Name). And so weird. You won’t even let us call you by your first name.” Sana said, rolling her eyes.
“But he has no problem letting someone see his flat ass.” Ryun chuckled.
“My ass is not flat!” You gasped. “I’ll prove it—”
“—NO!!!”
You sat back down with a huff. Yeah, you were weird. Sana and Ryun, your friends since diapers didn’t use your first name. Only your mother and father did but you didn’t even like them saying it either. For some reason, it just sounds.. off hearing it from people.
There didn’t seem to be a real reason. You just didn’t like it. Though you’ve been hoping that one day someone would say your first name and you wouldn’t immediately grimace.
Oh well. You had more pressing matters.
And that was Student Council President Ito Yuki.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“How are you going to ask him out?” Ryun asked, pulling out his bento. It’s been a week since your declaration to take Ito Yuki’s virginity but you haven’t really done anything. Mainly because he’s always doing student council president shit. Always so busy.
“Like how I ask everyone out.” You said, popping a grape into your mouth.
“Serious?” Sana gasped. “That unromantic shit you do? Gosh, people here have such low standards. I hope he rejects you.”
You gave her a tight glare and threw a grape at her, grinning when it hit her right on her nose. You weren’t unromantic so to say. But… your proposals left much to desire. You had a a short and sweet line.
“Hey, you’re hot. Wanna make out?”
You thought it was romantic but Sana believed the students here just didn’t have enough self respect. Both were probably true.
“Why would anyone reject this?” You sensually pull down your blazer to show off your collarbone and give Sana a flirty lip bite. She gagged immediately.
Ryun hummed. “I can think of many reasons why someone would reject you.”
“Ack! You two suck! Where’s the motivation?! ‘Ah, (L.Name), you’re so hot!! Who would ever say no to you?!’ Like huh??”
“You don’t need anymore compliments. Your head is about damn near jelly from your narcissism.” Ryun said.
You rolled your eyes. Tough crowd. The three of you continued on with lunch when there was a sudden shrill voice. You looked at Sana and Ryun before moving to the sliding door of the classroom, sliding it open and looking out the hallway.
And there he was.
Student Council President Ito Yuki.
A soft mop of jet black hair with over grown bangs. Mono lid eyes that resembled a fox eye. A beauty mark right underneath his right eye. Plump lips. Cheekbones. He still had those stupid circular glasses. His body, though. His body was insane. He wasn’t crazy buff but he certainly put on weight compared to his stick thin body from first year. He practically had boobs (pecs) now!
He was taller too. Maybe 182 cm…?
A group of girls followed behind him, all holding letters that they waved to try and give to him. Huh, was today? Fuck, it was Valentine’s Day!!
You cursed as you watched Ito Yuki continue to walk and ignore the girls, passively pushing away any one that got too close. You didn’t have shit to give him.
Also it wasn’t White Day so it would’ve been weird if you did… but boys can do Valentine’s Day too..? Right?
Ah, fuck it.
“(L.Name)?!” Ryun whispered as you stepped out into the hallway, right as Ito Yuki come close to passing your classroom.
“What are you doing??” Sana yelled, covering her mouth when a few students looked at her in surprise.
You squared your shoulders and stood up tall, only now noticing you only came up to his chest. Ah, you were a perfect height to suck on his—
Not now, (L.Name)!
Even in your thoughts you didn’t even use your first name. You let out a sigh and gave Ito Yuki your signature flirty smirk. Your eyes peering up at him, giving yourself a cute look. You had multiple ways of flirting, especially when it came to boys or girls.
A true bisexual playboy!
“Ito-San.” You said, blinking slightly to flutter your eyelashes. Ito seemed to be focusing on something else in his mind despite his eyes on you. Well you can’t have that.
You leaned in closer, resting your hand on his arm. You felt him visibly twitch at your touch, earning a slight grin on your lips. Too easy. There was whispering happening around you but you didn’t care. You’ve asked out people in public spaces loads of times.
This… was a piece of a cake.
“Ito-San… you’re—”
“—hot?”
You blinked, staring up at him in shock. Did he just? Your lips parted as you short circuited—should you continue or just come up with something on the fly? A slight gasp left you as his hand reached up and grabbed the back of your head, bringing you closer.
The crowd erupted into gasps, even Ryun and Sana looked absolutely shocked. You couldn’t even think. Someone.. was taking control? You—you—??!?
His breath tickled your ears as your eyes clinched shut, your hands digging into his blazer as you let out a stuttered breath. You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle.
“Sure. Let’s make out.” He said, loud enough for only you to hear. With that, he pulled away, his hand gently rubbing the back of your head before dropping. His face was stoic, his lips straight but you could almost see a slight smirk on them as he walked past you.
It was hushed whispers as everyone dispersed as soon as the school bell rang, signaling lunch was over. Ryun and Sana ran over to you, Sana gripping your shoulders as she shook you.
“Hey, what the hell was that?!” She cried.
You only let out a whimper, looking at the both of them in pure shock. “I…I don’t know…”
“Wow. Ito Yuki changed. He put (L.Name) in his place!” Ryun laughed, patting you on the back. “So? He rejected you?”
Right. They didn’t hear him. You paused, almost wondering if you should tell them. Would they believe you? Sana and Ryun looked at you expectedly.
“Yea…” You muttered, laughing slightly. “He rejected me.” You looked down as Sana rubbed your shoulders in a comforting manner. Ryun just patted your head as they steered you back to the classroom.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“I..Ito Yuki?!”
You glanced up as you heard your classmates exclaim in shock. Ito… Yuki? It had only been a week since that incident happened and you hadn’t seen Ito a lot. But that was to be expected. He was in 3-A, smartest of the third years and c student council president.
Sana and Ryun were geeking out beside you as Ito walked into the classroom, heading straight towards you. You felt weird. Not uncomfortable but odd. Like your body was… scared of him? But it wasn’t a bad scared. It reminded you of going on a rollercoaster.
The fear during but the ecstasy afterwards.
“(L.Name).”
Oh. That’s a first. You didn’t like hearing him say that. Huh.
“H..Hello, Ito-San.” You muttered, your grip tightening on your bag as he looked at you. His gaze was intense, even with his overgrown bangs. You wished those bangs covered his eyes more.
“Let’s go on a date.”
The classroom erupted into screams at his words. Date?! Date with you of all people?! No one even cared that Ito was surprisingly into men. No, it was surprising he would go for someone like you. The school campus’s proud playboy that was barely passing through school!
You didn’t even get to answer as his hand grabbed your wrist and began tugging you along. Your eyes met Sana and Ryun who looked at you with pure shock. You couldn’t blame them.
You’ve never really gone on dates before. Sure, at the beginning in first year when you were starting out your slut activities. But by second year, anyone who dated you knew that you mostly wanted them for sex. So to have Ito Yuki, of all people, coming to date you was… shocking.
Also fake. It had to be fake.
Yeouch!
Not fake. Not fake at all.
This was how you’d soon find yourself in a movie theater. Ito had something about liking movie dates and there was a movie he wanted to watch. A horror movie maybe? You couldn’t pay attention. You sat down beside him, staring off into space as the movie began playing.
It was an American movie, judging by the fact you couldn’t understand them. You glanced up at the screen, seeing the subtitles on the right. Ah, a slasher. You’ve seen multiple slashers so you knew the format like you knew blowjobs.
But you didn’t expect Ito to be interested in this type of stuff. You glanced over at him, watching as he stared straight at the screen, occasionally taking a sip from his soda. Huh, he’s zoned in.
You sighed and decided to get comfortable. Lucky for you, most slashers knew not to over stay their welcome. So you began watching, occasionally glancing at the other moviegoers who decided to watch a slasher at 5:00 pm on a Friday.
Mainly older couples. A few high schools students. And what you could assume some college students.
A hand grazed your thigh which caused you to let out a loud gasp. Luckily a jumpscare drowned you out. You looked down to see the arm rest pulled up that blocked you from Ito and his hand resting just an inch from your thigh.
Huh. What did he..?
You didn’t get to think any further when another loud jumpscare filled the theater. Your attention turned right as a poor woman was sawed in half. Oh, what a way to die. There continued to be gorey deaths that you forgot all about Ito’s strange decision to pull up the armrest.
Not until the movie cut to a random couple having sex in the car. Ah, you knew kills like this. Directors seemed to love having naked women run for their life after their boyfriend is killed.
There’s probably something wrong about that.
Before you could delve deeper into this question you felt a hand rest on your thighs. Just as you were about to even look down, the hand moved to your crotch and squeezed. A gasped left you that was coincidentally timed with the actress’s.
Has Ito’s hands always been this big? You let out a sharp shudder as you watched him grope your crotch. Really, you should’ve pushed him away. But you were just shocked that someone like Ito would be doing this.
And in a weird way, you did… like it? But it didn’t last long, just as the actress was killed by the killer, Ito pulled away. You couldn’t help your slight whimper as you glanced over at him. He didn’t even spare you a look.
Jerk.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“You went on a date?!”
You sighed as you rubbed your eyes, staring at the two clowns in your room. Ryun and Sana had a spare key to your home—thanks mom!—so they didn’t even need to wait for you to open it. It was the next day after your date with Ito. It ended a bit unsatisfactory.
He just walked you home and waved goodbye. He didn’t even give you his number.
“Yea… he literally said that yesterday after class.” You whined, wanting to just plop back down and sleep. You masturbated all night last night, wishing he had touched you more. Which was a fucking first. You usually never have a wet dream about your partners.
“Wow… maybe, Ito-San likes you?” Ryun muttered, biting his lip as he sat down on your bed.
“Ito-San and (L.Name)?! That’s crazy.” Sana exclaimed. “But Ito-San isn’t someone to prank around.”
You couldn’t help but smirk. “Mhm~ maybe this sexy body has him curious.” You teased, sending a flirty wink to Ryun. He looked at you with pure disgust.
“Yeah, right.” Ryun grabbed a pillow and threw it at your face. “If he does, I owe you dinner for a week.”
“Deal!”
“Oh,” Sana suddenly muttered. “Wouldn’t yesterday be the start of the week? So you’ll break up with him next week Friday?”
You pursed your lips. Yeah, she was right. But why did you suddenly hate the idea of leaving him? You only gave a noncommittal nod and get out of bed, wanting to just take a shower and wash off the masturbation from last night.
Ito had to have know about you. He knew your usual phrase when asking someone out.
Well, you had the rest of the week to find out what he wanted from you.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
Technically you didn’t. Because it was already next Friday and he didn’t come for you at all. It wasn’t like you could call him either—you didn’t have his phone number. Sana and Ryun could tell it was affecting you but you didn’t even know why.
You’ve dealt with this. Sometimes the weekly partner ended up being just one night. And sure, you got a bit upset the next day but you’d bounce right back right after. You didn’t understand at all.
“(L.Name).”
You glanced over to see Ito Yuki staring down at you. Your classmates seemed able to not scream like last time. But their phones were out and were whispering to each other.
“I..Ito-San..?” You slowly stood up, looking up at him in shock. You should’ve been mad but you felt your heart flutter. Wow, you must’ve really wanted his dick.
“Let’s go to my house.” He said, which earned a round of gasps. Sana and Ryun looked like deers in headlights. You could only nod as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the classroom.
Damn, Ito Yuki. He’s probably the only partner that ever had you this bad over dick. And you haven’t even had it yet! Shame it was the last day.
Once you reached his house, you were shocked at how big it was. “Wow… Ito-San, are your parents rich?” You asked, slipping off your shoes as you walked behind him.
“Yuki.”
“Hm?” You replied, grunting when you bumped into him.
“We’re dating, no? So call me by my given name. That’s what couples do.” It—Yuki said nonchalantly, moving to go to the kitchen. You followed right behind him, unable to hide the growing heat on your face. This.. this was a first.
Would he do the same…? You hoped he would.
Much to your surprise, Yuki began making dinner for you. It wasn’t anything difficult, just chicken Katsu curry. You tried to help but he quite literally manhandled you to sit down at the dining table. If there was a growing bulge in your pants you quickly decided to ignore it.
After he finished, he placed a bowl in front of you and sat down beside you. You ate in complete silent. It was a bit uncomfortable because you weren’t used to dinners like this but it gave you perfect view of Yuki.
He looked so pretty? You weren’t sure. He had pulled his bangs back with a cute hello kitty pin and you couldn’t help but wonder who gave him that. He didn’t seem like the boy to like cute stuff. You were able to see his eyes better now—fox like eyes staring right at you.
You coughed slightly and looked down at your curry. “Hm, this is good curry, Yuki. Who, uh, taught you how to make it?”
“My mom.”
“Oh. Where’s your parents?”
“They’re out for the weekend.” He said, his eyes trailing down your face, right to your lips. “They won’t be back until Monday.”
Oh? A slight shudder left your body as your back straightened. The whole weekend? Did he not want this to last the week?
“But today is a full week?”
Yuki hummed. “Since we started dating? Yeah, do you like those type of things?”
“Eh?”
“Keeping track of how long we’ve been together? Do you like doing that? I can do it for you.” He said, finishing his plate off.
“Uh—”
“Sorry I couldn’t meet you during the week, I had to help plan the festival coming up.” He reached over and grabbed your plate. The plates clinked together as he carried them to the sink, gently dropping them in.
Before you could stand up, you felt Yuki rest his chin on your shoulder. You flinched at the touch but calmed down as his nose nuzzled your neck. A giggle left your lips at the ticklish touch. He pressed a kiss on your collarbone before pulling away, motioning for you to get up.
“Do you,” he muttered, reaching over and grabbing the back of your head. “want to make out?” You didn’t even think before eagerly nodding, looking up at him expectantly. He pressed his lips against yours with ease. His glasses pushed against your face but you didn’t find it in yourself to care.
Your hand slowly reached up his body before resting themselves on his shoulders, fingers curling at his button up. Your lips locked with his, easily moving in tandem without pulling apart. Breathing didn’t seem important at the moment.
You hadn’t even noticed you were standing on your toes until the pressure on them began to hurt. A struggled gasp left you as you pulled away, needing to catch a breath while also resting back on the balls of your feet. But Yuki immediately chased your lips, sacrificing his back as he bent down.
His hands gripped your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin. When did he even pull open your shirt? You didn’t get to think with how eager he was kissing you. It felt like you were the inexperienced one with how easily he was taking control.
“Y-Yuki.” You managed to moan into his lips, pulling away to breathe. A giggle left you when he subconsciously chased after your lips again but you pressed a finger against his. “Wait a minute.”
It was different—but in a good way. You were always the one in control during make outs. People were the one to pull away after you made them breathless. It was exciting for it to be the opposite.
“Are you…?” You whispered, wanting to make sure.
Sure, you were a degenerate who liked having sex with virgins, but you always toned yourself down when you did. Treat them like glass unless stated otherwise was your motto!
Yuki hummed. “Virgin? Yeah.”
“Do you know how—?”
“—I’m a virgin, not an idiot.”
You pouted. “I was just checking. Your first time needs to be good.”
“It’s already good.” He whispered, a slight smirk on his lips when you looked away in embarrassment. “But it could be better.”
“Hm? Better how?”
For the first time ever, you saw Yuki’s lips pull into a full smirk. Oh no.
Oh no indeed…
In front of you on the bed was a dress. A cute dress. But a dress nonetheless. It was white with a black bow on the chest. Frilly ends on the sleeves. Paired with white stockings.
The outfit reminded you of something but you didn’t know what.
You dated a lot of people. You’ve done strange shit because of people’s kinks. This, was tame. You shuddered at the time you dressed like a dog. Not even just dog ears and a tail… a full on dog.
Honestly this was a breath of fresh air. So you huffed and slipped out of your clothes, putting on the outfit with ease. Hm, it fit perfectly. You briefly wondered if Yuki somehow had your measurements.
“I’m dressed, Yuki.” You called, slipping on the last stockings. There was a mirror on the closet door. You moved over and couldn’t help but twirl. The dress really was cute. You took in the detailing of the dress and noticed a slight stain on one of the sleeves. But how could it have gotten a stain? Did Yuki make other people wear this?
That left a bitter taste in your mouth. Just because he was a virgin didn’t mean he hadn’t fooled around before. Which you couldn’t judge. That was your reputation!
A pair of arms wrapped around your waist causing you to flinch. Yuki hummed as he looked at you from the mirror. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his face still stoic. But the way his hands gripped your waist and body as it trailed around you.
“It still fits.” He suddenly muttered. “I was worried you would’ve grown too much since then.”
“Huh? Grown?”
“You don’t remember it?” His hands gripped your waist as he easily spun you around to face him. “First year. School festival.”
Festival? You stared at him confused for a moment before gasping in disbelief. “No way! You kept this?! I thought I threw it out?!” You said, pulling at the fabric in pure shock.
In your first year, your class did a maid cafe, but instead of girls, it was boys as the maids. You played as the head maid because you looked more girlish compared to everyone when you wore the wig. It was fun but you didn’t see the use in keeping the dress after so you threw it up.
Apparently Yuki found it.
“You did. I just grabbed it before they took out the trash. I would’ve saved the wig too..” he muttered, a slight pout on his lips.
You couldn’t help the slight scoff leaving you. “Wig? Do you want me to be a girl?”
“No. You just looked… cute. I like cute things.” He said, shrugging. “You just look cuter feminine.”
“But I don’t even remember you at the festival.”
Yuki hummed. “How could you? I was shorter than you back then. But I remember you. The cute head maid flaunting his cute little dress in front of everyone.”
You blushed. “I wouldn’t say I flaunted it…”
“Really? I think you were a lot of guys awakening that day. So many eyes on you.” His hands tugged at the bottom of the skirt. “Hm, you grew in height. It’s much shorter now.”
You reached down and noticed that it was resting just at the end of your ass. Certainly shorter than in first year when it was closer to your knees. Well at least you can say you did have a growth spurt… just nothing compared to Yuki’s.
“So, you want to have sex with me in it?”
“Mhm. I’ve masturbated to you wearing it for years now.”
You sputtered in shock, watching as Yuki moved away to possibly grab a condom and lube. This Ito Yuki was nothing to the one you thought you knew back at school. The way he could say it so casually made you feel some type of way. But you couldn’t explain it.
Gosh, you’d assume you’re the virgin.
With a slight pep talk in your mind, you squared your shoulders and stormed over to Yuki. He looked over at you and tilted his head, opening his lips to ask something but you pushed him down on the bed. Though you had to use a lot of strength for that—jeez, how tough was he?
You straddled his hips and grinned, looking down at him. “Don’t worry, Yuki~! I’ll make your first time special.” You whispered, gently rubbing your ass against his growing bulge.
Yuki seemed to want to say something but you kissed him, helping him pull off his pants. You knew what to do. You’ve done this so many times it was practically second nature. When you slipped off his boxers, you almost whimpered at the sight.
It was bigger than any you’ve seen before. That stereotype of slender men having bigger dicks didn’t seem like an internet lie anymore. You wondered if it looked bigger when he was thinner and didn’t have the lean muscle he had now.
Shit.
“Are you ready for your first blowjob?” You asked, smirking slightly. You expected him to finally start acting like a blushing virgin but he looked more so bored? Huh?
“Another time. I wanna be in you.”
You felt your cheeks flush. He wanted you quickly, huh? That’s a first. There were even times guys just wanted a blowjob from you and nothing else. This was, interesting to say the least. You gave him a hum and pulled down your own boxers, pulling up the dress.
You felt his eyes zero in on your body as you grabbed the lube and squirt some on your fingers. This was the best. Having someone watch you as you got yourself ready for them. You didn’t waste anytime, easily slipping in two fingers inside your hole. A grunt left you but you kept going, easily stretching yourself out.
If Yuki wanted to be inside, he’d get it. Besides, who doesn’t like a little bit of pain?
The dress was sticking to your skin already and you hadn’t even got his cock inside you yet. It was thin and a bit cheap in material but it certainly knew how to make you warm.
You reached over and grabbed the condom on the nightstand, easily tearing it open with your teeth. The slight eyebrow raise from Yuki made you smirk. It was a habit that you gained from sleeping around so much. Also past partners said it was sexy so you kept doing it.
What works, works!
After finally slipping the condom onto his cock, which surprisingly fit, you moved up to level your ass with his cock. You gave him a slight smile and rest your hand on his chest.
“You can always tell me to stop, okay?” You whispered, making sure he heard you. Yuki only gave you a nod, a look of impatience in his eyes.
Not wanting to make him anymore restless, you wordlessly began to sink down onto his cock. A short gasp filled the room as your fingers gripped his shirt. He was huge but feeling it inside was a whole different experience. You haven’t slept with a guy in a minute so you certainly felt a bit nervous than normal.
But it was fine.
The sight of Yuki was pretty to say the least. He still had on his stupid glasses, the hello kitty pin that held back his bangs. His face was already sweaty while his lips pulled into a slight grimace.
Ah, you knew the face well.
You leaned in close to him—your noses touching.
“Good? It’ll get better from here.” You grinned, leaning back as you slowly rolled your hips.
Except it didn’t really..?
It had to have been maybe ten minutes and Yuki hadn’t cummed at all. You came once which was embarrassing since you weren’t used to cumming before your partners. But you thought maybe he was just nervous so you kept bouncing on his cock.
But by the ten minute mark, he looked bored.
You thought you were imagining it but no, you could tell he was zoning out. His eyes were focused on you but he wasn’t reacting. Even when you picked up the pace, he didn’t even grunt.
A wave of embarrassment mixed in with anger flared within you. You stilled your hips to a stop, finally earning Yuki’s attention as he blinked and actually paid attention to you.
“Seriously…” You grunted, rolling your eyes. “If I’m that boring, you take over!” You were so used to being in control that you actually didn’t want him to take over. Really you wanted to go home, fully embarrassed that in the first time in forever, your partner wasn’t satisfied.
The hands that once laid on your thighs without any grip slowly moved upwards, digging its’ nails into the free upper thigh that wasn’t covered by your knee socks. You let out a surprised grunt at the pain but you didn’t even get to say anything about it before they trail up and grip your waist.
A gasp leaves you when you feel his hips slam up into you.
“Wh—?”
Colors blur as you feel yourself be pushed down onto the bed, your head bouncing slightly from the fast movement. Your legs are grabbed and pushed up, almost knocking yourself in the face.
“Yuki..!” You managed to cry out at his manhandling but he doesn’t seem to care at the moment. You can only watch as he takes off the hair clip and carelessly tosses it away. His bangs fall over his eyes and to your dismay, you can’t see them this time.
Doesn’t help the bedroom is only lit by a small lamp on the nightstand. The shadows practically cover his upper face beside his lips. You can see a slight glint in his glasses but he soon removed them as well, gently resting them on the nightstand.
It’s weird. Your stomach starts to feel weird again. That same feeling when he pulled you close on Valentine’s Day. What was this?
A quick slap of skin bleeds into the room as your thoughts are jumbled before you could even think. You could’ve sworn you heard a cry—like a high pitched voice. Was that?
Yeah, it was you.
Your back arched as Yuki slammed his cock inside you in a constant rhythm. There was cries and whimpers coming straight from you in tandem with his thrusts. You’ve never sounded like this before—you didn’t even think you could make a sound like this.
Your eyes began to water as you pressed your hand against your lips, wanting to muffle the new strange sounds coming.
“Hey…” Yuki’s thrusting slowed down as he reached over and grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away. “Did I say you can do that?” His fingers tightened around your wrist, earning a slight squeak from you in pain.
A laugh filled the room. A boyish smile appearing on Yuki’s lips. He looked so scary like this. No eyes for you to look in. Just the sight of his lips being your only way of knowing how he’s feeling.
“You’re so cute. Like a little hamster.”
“H..Hamster..?”
“Mhm.” His thrusting began again, filling the room with the sounds of squelching and skin slapping. “Cute little hamster. Squishy.”
“Squish—!”
A whimper left you as your toes curled. Shit, you were cumming already?! You let out a grunt and turned your head to the side, wanting to just bury it in the soft bedsheets beneath you.
“Two already.” Yuki said absentmindedly, his hands releasing your thighs as he slowed down his thrusting. You glanced over at him, seeing his hands trail up your body. They were veiny. Larger than yours. He could hold both of your wrists with one hand. You shuddered at the thought.
“Don’t make fun of me.” You whispered, hoping he would just cum already.
Yuki hummed. “I’m making fun of you?” He asked, genuinely confused. You wish you could see his eyes—just to see a glimpse into what he’s thinking. But all you get a little smile.
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m keeping count.” His hands reached the top of your collar, slowly tightening around it. You hummed, wondering what he was about to do. “So I can give you more next time.”
“Give me more?”
“Mhm.”
The sound of fabric tearing caught your attention as you glanced down and saw your dress being torn apart by Yuki’s hands. It started off slow, as if he was fighting the seams before easily pulling it apart once he reached the middle.
A strangled moan left you at the show of strength. Oh man. How could you survive any longer with this guy?
“Yuki!”
“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He said, leaning down as he pressed kisses on your bare skin. Your toes curled as you gripped at the bed sheets beneath you. “I’ll buy you prettier dresses.”
A breathy whimper left your lips. “There’ll be a next time?”
“Why wouldn’t there be? You’re my boyfriend.” He pulled out his cock and easily flipped you to rest on the side of your stomach. He plopped down behind you and raised one of your legs, slotting himself easily back into your tight heat.
“Y… You actually like me..?” You muttered, gasping as he begins a slow and steady pace, resting his chin on your shoulder.
Yuki simply hummed. “I wanna fuck you. We can talk later.” He said bluntly. You shrieked as he captured your lips into a kiss and began fucking you in a harsh pace.
The sounds of skin slapping and your muffled moans filled the room. Your fingers digging into the bed while his dug into your skin. There was a slight burn on your thighs and you weren’t sure if he possibly broke your skin from just how hard he gripped you.
You pulled away from the kiss, needing to catch your breath when you noticed why Yuki had put you in this position. The fucking mirror.
Damn pervert.
You couldn’t really hide yourself, not with his arm holding you up. All you could do was kiss him again, not having to see your fucked out expression. It didn’t take long for you to reach another orgasm with ease, the cum coating your stomach in a sight of white liquid.
A whimper left your sore throat as Yuki maneuvered you to rest on your knees as he continued fucking into you. Finally, you buried your face into the sheets, biting them to muffle your moans.
“I’m close. Just a little more, (Name)-Chan.”
Yuki let out a surprised grunt when he felt you tighten around his cock. You whimpered in embarrassment, squeezing your eyes shut. No way. No way that your body just did that.
A slight chuckle left Yuki as he draped his chest against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder. “So cute, (Name)-Chan.” With that, he pulled away and gripped your hips as he chased his own release. It didn’t take too long, his grunts mixing in with your cries.
His hips slammed against your ass as he groaned, finally reaching his orgasm. You hummed before feeling something wet coat your insides. Yuki pulled away and hummed.
“It broke.”
You turned around, seeing him hold a broken condom. “It broke?!” You cried, moving to sit up only to wince in pain. “Yuki… why are you so calm?!”
“It’s fine. It looks pretty.” He said, pointing at the cum slowly leaking from your ass.
“Pervert!”
“Mhm.” He pushed up his sweaty bangs and sighed, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Shower?”
“Yeah. Uhm, are we… a couple?”
“Yeah.” He got off the bed and leaned over to you, a slight smirk on his lips. “I’m the only man you can be a slut for from now on.”
“I’m not a slut!”
Yuki only gave you a shrug before walking away to start the bath. Well, it looked like you weren’t a playboy anymore.
But it felt good.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
First fic back!! Way longer than it needed to be… hope yall like Yuki. I kinda want to make him into a full OC, but I’ll see.
Tag list: @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @ofclyde @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @tomoeroi @tehyunnie @the-ultimate-librarian @smellwell @love-kha1 @star-3214 @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world
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lokis-army-77 · 1 year ago
Text
Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
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Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.” 
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 
And then the live is over. 
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 
He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’ 
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 
"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer. 
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
… 
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised. 
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 
“Hi, Sweetheart.” 
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise. 
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg. 
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 
“Yeah?” You whisper. 
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 
12K notes · View notes
teamred · 5 months ago
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focus on me
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✩‌ qimir x acolyte!reader | smut | fluff | 2.5k
SUMMARY | in which the tension finally breaks between you and your master when you train together one afternoon.
WARNINGS | smut, s*xual force choking, knee foreplay, finger sucking, f*ngering, dirty talk, piv s*x, unprotected s*x, violence (fighting and choking)
RATING | explicit
NOTES | i'm simply a girl who's fallen to the dark side for qimir!!! qimir's lowkey a softie in this, which might not be canon, but idc!!!
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You stumble back with your palm soiled wet. 
Thankfully, you grounded the rest of your weight with your makeshift wooden staff. Panting, you drag yourself upward, readying yourself for what’s to come next. 
Sweat drips down your forehead as the sun begins to dip into the horizon beyond the abundance of trees and overgrowth, the heat felt by your exposed arms and through your thin sleeveless wrap top.
It's been more than two hours of training, but your master knows your limit. Pushes you until you break–and he knows you’re far from your breaking point. 
Perspiration also stains his forehead. Master Qimir wipes it away with the back of his hand, moving his hair aside too. 
Moments like these, you pride yourself in knowing his identity after years of him preserving his anonymity behind that intimidating, powerful mask. He’s gained followers over time since you've known him, but you’re his one and only acolyte. 
Your mind wanders further. Why does he choose to wear his mask in public when he can make nations fall to their knees just with a flash of his smirk? 
Said smirk is plastered on his face as he twirls his two batons between his fingers with ease. Beyond his smirk, there was also the ordeal of seeing his glistening, gorgeous arms every day and– 
Your master calls out your name playfully, “I hope you’re focusing on me.”
“You know I am, Master.” You’re not exactly lying. You inch closer, holding your staff firmly with both hands and pointing one end of it in his direction. 
He tsks and lets out of a deep chuckle. It always bothers you how his chuckles make your heart skip a beat, among the other things it does to the rest of your body.  
“You're focusing on things about me, Acolyte. Not on me directly, nor on my presence,”—he paces in a circle around you, with you tracking his every step—“If this was a real fight, you’d be dead.”
“Well, I can’t help it that my master can be so distracting!” you grit out, taking the opportunity to lunge towards him. 
Weapons clash. Loud echoes continually reverberate throughout the forest, along with your occasional grunts. 
Master Qimir’s style is aggressive and swift, always on the offense, so you’ve become accustomed to defend his moves well. He comes in with one baton towards your side, and the other towards your head. You deflect both smoothly, and without much thought, you decide to attack him. 
However, your confidence blinds you.
Too close. 
He elbows your arm and slams into your side, causing your staff to drop.  
Then, Qimir shoves you far with the Force, distancing you from your weapon, and gets close again to hook his foot around yours. Your back stings as you fall down. 
In the blink of an eye, he pins you down with both batons tightly pressed against your throat, cutting off your air supply. You struggle under him, trying your best to smack him away with your diminishing strength. 
“Breathe, think, and focus,” he calmly orders, despite the agonizing scene in front of him. 
You take a second to compose yourself, inhaling as much as you can for a second.
Suddenly, you feel his knee move up between your legs, spreading them.
And you feel him moving upwards again, but this time brushing against your core. 
Your sparring composure absolutely shatters–a gasp and small moan release, and you’re back to struggling once more. 
You assume it was a mistake, but you’re relishing in the pleasure nevertheless, even in your current state of distress. 
“Focus, my acolyte,” Master Qimir barks, and he presses the batons harder into you. “Focus!” 
Your vision begins to blur alongside the increasing pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Gathering all your might and wanting to avoid disappointing Qimir, you breathe as much as you can and drown out everything to focus on how to get out of the situation. 
With a sliver of consciousness left, you will yourself to use the Force and seize your staff. Your fingers clutch around it and you thwack Qimir hard on the head, disorienting him for a moment. Without hesitation, throughout your excessive gasping, you skillfully maneuver yourself to switch positions. 
Now, your staff is pressed against his throat. 
“Is this better, Master?” you pant and cough with a grin, basking in your success. “Am I focused now?” 
He grants a brief nod, but you notice an unusual look in his eyes. 
It reads as a rare time he’s overly impressed, but there’s something else. 
Qimir raises his hand and gently curls it around yours, wordlessly asking you to lower your weapon. You ruffle your eyebrows, unsure why he’s letting down his guard against you during training.
“Master Qimir,” you whisper, still holding your staff to the side with a relaxed but guarded grip, “is this another test of yours?”  
He shakes his head, his touch now carefully grazing your forehead and cheeks. Your staff rolls away as your eyes flutter, savoring this foreign feeling from him–tenderness, affection, warmth. A hand softly cups your face. 
“Training’s over for today.” 
The warmth fades into familiar roughness with a sharp pull by the back of your neck downwards. 
His mouth drives into yours, each kiss igniting fire within you, sparking every inch of your body. Desire is bursting at the seams. He kneads your neck and body intently, mirroring you as you clutch onto his face and sturdy frame. 
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you had never fantasized kissing Qimir before, but this is everything you dreamed of and better.  
“Master���” you gasp sharply at the sensation of him pressing his knee up against you again. Reflexively, you writhe as your body screams for more. 
“You like this a lot…” His tone drips of arrogance. Further pressure is added and he happily inhales your moans between his teasing chuckles.   
You manage to muster the following amidst the rising pleasure, “So it was intentional before.”
“Of course.” His words are muffled as he leaves open-mouthed kisses upon the side of your neck. Your fingers dig further into his shoulder and scalp as he cups your breast. “You need to learn to push aside your desires when training.” 
“Should we stop then?” The neck kissing sears you, especially when he tugs skin between his teeth to bite and suck. “To teach me a lesson?” 
He shakes his head and removes himself from your neck, coming back up to drag your lower lip between his teeth. 
“It doesn’t mean I want to push aside my desires.” 
You catch a fleeting glimpse of his signature smirk before his lips are on yours again. Kisses become more electric as he dips his tongue into your mouth.
Hands fly erratically and grasp everywhere. His arms. Your ass. Fingers running beneath his top, feeling up his abs. His harsh grips of your thighs. 
Unexpectedly, he holds you close and flips you over; you’re back on top of him again and you can surely feel his prominent desire against yours. 
In a rush, you bunch up his thin shirt and attempt to pull it off him. He sits up with you in his lap and, with a fluid flick of his wrist, he rids you of your clothes and they are tossed to one side; his follow suit. Qimir promptly draws his nearby robes closer to be placed underneath you both, covering yourselves from the soiled forest. 
The look in his eyes is unmistakably lust-filled, completely insatiable. He wastes no time in taking your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking and lips puckering, while one hand holds you by your back and the other dips two fingers into your desire, wet and ready for him. 
You arch into him, leaning your head back and letting yourself go. Wanting to reciprocate, you reach out to stroke his cock. Relishing in the pleasure, he draws back his head, eyes closed, and leans his forehead against your chest.
The forest may be filled with the rustling of the wind against the trees and the odd bird cawing, but all you can focus on is Qimir’s throaty groans and every obscene squelch when he slides his fingers in and out of you. 
He glances up and attempts to open his eyes as much as he can to give you his full attention, despite the heavenly strokes you’re giving him. 
Eyes shine back at you with the utmost vulnerability–a sight you never see. A sight that you want to etch into your memory forever, knowing you, his Acolyte, could make your Master weak and let his guard down with just your touch. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve held myself back…”
The vulnerability dissipates as he darts his tongue against your untouched nipple. 
“...wanting to see you like this for me.” 
You two become one for a while as he plays with you like a toy he just received as a gift. He tries you out, sees what you like and what you can handle. How sensitive you are with your breasts. How many fingers you can take. How much noise you make when he thumbs your clit. 
At one point, he eventually removes his fingers from you, evidently drenched from your bliss. He holds out his fingers in front of you, and you realize what he’s suggesting.   
Obediently, like you always are with him, you open your mouth and let his fingers lay on your tongue. You wrap your mouth around them, and finally let yourself suck on them a bit, tasting yourself and treating his fingers as if it were his cock. 
When you finish, to your surprise, he sticks his fingers into his own mouth, sucking off the remnants of you. He then kisses you deeply. Tasting yourself in his mouth excites you, riles you up again and back to wanting the next step with Qimir. 
As if reading your mind, he adjusts himself to lay back down vertically, and takes you by your wrist to lead you to sit onto him. 
You hold his possession against you between your legs, teasing his tip by not quite sitting onto him fully, indulging in your control over him. However, at this point, Qimir lacks patience, so he grasps you by your waist and forces you to ease onto his length.  
The guttural moan you release could easily be heard at all ends of the forest. 
He fills you deliciously, stretches you in the sweetest way possible. Using the strength of your thighs and your hands to keep you steady, you bounce at a comfortable pace, not wanting this to end just yet.
When you find a good position to balance your weight, you allow yourself to stroke his perfect body. His chiseled abs. The solid planes of his chest. His strong forearms. The sharp jawline that you dream of kissing almost every night.
“You take my cock so well.” 
A more familiar look flashes through his eyes, one that you normally see him flash prior to slaying Jedi or when he's in a bad mood. It’s drenched with darkness and dominance, almost bordering on fury.   
You freeze, and then you feel it.
The constriction around your throat, created by the Force. He can easily kill you within seconds. He's done this only once to you, and that was when he was testing your loyalty to him years ago.
But this is different. Different than that time, and most definitely different than before with his batons. This is more controlled; the hold is mostly against the sides of your windpipe and it isn't overtly harsh. 
On top of that, your entire body is on fire, becoming wound up by this act.  
“Do you enjoy this?” he asks, tone teetering between curiosity and being threatening.
“Yes,” you mentally scream.
“I want to hear you say it.” 
“Yes,” you manage to croak. 
He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, Master.” 
“Nu-uh,” he says. “Say my name, my beautiful acolyte.”
You're too distracted to be caught up in the fact that he called you beautiful. Instinctively, you want to ride this new sensation to lead you to another high. But you know that if you don’t reply, he might not let you get there. 
“Yes, Qimir.”
His signature smirk takes up his whole face and your pussy clenches tighter at the sight of it. He may have the upper hand with his strength around your neck, but so do you when you notice the flickering of his eyes.
“And how does my cock feel?” He tightens a little more around your throat, and you're affected further. Qimir's collectedness can only take much longer too.
“Feels good, feels so fucking good…” 
Intoxication rises from your abdomen and to all ends of your body. Your eyes begin to roll, and you're so close— 
And it's gone. The tightness on your throat stops, and so is your near-high.
You're about to complain, but Qimir quickly hauls you in close to his body. Face to face, forehead to forehead, your breaths fan one another.
“Before I let either of us finish, I want to hear you say my name as you come on my cock.”
That smirk will be the absolute death of you, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
“Can you do that for me?” 
You nod breathlessly.
Your master holds you by your waist and immediately thrusts over and over, deep and fast into you. Desperate to reach his climax, and to ensure you get to yours too.
“QimirQimirQimir–” 
And so you unravel, voice rising with every iteration. Saying his name like you’re praying for forgiveness from all ends of the universe. 
Qimir then brings his mouth to yours once more, swallowing all your pretty whimpers and allowing himself to chase his own release moments later. 
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Laying on his bare chest, you glance up at him and wonder how the relationship between you will be from now on.
You couldn’t just go back to what you were before; you would now be a master and acolyte intertwined sexually at least, romantically at most. Would it not be complicated? 
But of course, Master Qimir can hear what’s going on in your mind, and he doesn’t even need the Force to do so. Being his enigmatic self, he merely answers your thoughts by speaking the Sith Code: 
“‘Peace is a lie. There is only passion…’” 
He meets your eyes, strokes your face with a small smile. Affection blooms in your chest.
“‘Through passion, I gain strength.’” 
Holds your hand against his beating chest. 
“‘Through strength, I gain power.’” 
His grip tightens. 
“‘Through power, I gain victory. And through victory, my chains are broken.’” 
Qimir leans in and kisses you deeply as the darkness of the night sky engulfs you, the sun saying its goodbye for the night.
And with that, you realize that no matter what will happen from here on out, he’ll always care for you. 
That despite all the blood, sweat, and tears shed through training, stealing, and all the killing, he’s just as loyal and devoted to you as you are to him.
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onlyswan · 7 months ago
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summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.
idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k
warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3
> in which masterlist!
note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")
“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”
jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.
he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.
he gasps.
“baby, you’re alive!”
your swollen eyes flicker up to him.
you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.
“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”
you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.
he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.
the bathroom door opens and closes.
he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”
still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.
he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.
“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”
he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.
“baby? may i go in?”
he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.
huh? why is it locked?
you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.
“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”
with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.
he doesn’t go far, however.
only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.
“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”
he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.
“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”
he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.
“____!”
he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.
“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”
he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.
“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.
he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.
only after the first try, that much is clear.
and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.
the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.
when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.
the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.
there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.
his voice cracks, breathless.
“baby, no… no, no, no.”
he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.
keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.
he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.
“____, can you hear me?!”
his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.
he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.
“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.
he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.
“baby…”
he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.
almost.
at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.
“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.
for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”
he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.
he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.
once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.
any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.
if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.
but you’re not.
jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.
your body feels like it’s floating.
are you dreaming…?
you must be dreaming.
you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.
the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.
your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.
you want to sleep a little more.
you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.
you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?
just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.
jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.
it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.
“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”
“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”
you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.
“ah, i should call the doctor.”
but his face remains buried in your hair.
“they told me to do so.”
“you should-”
“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”
“chill. you said that they told you to.”
“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”
he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.
you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”
fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.
“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”
“i love you more.”
you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.
his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
“bam!”
oh, right. your child.
“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.
you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”
you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?
“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”
the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.
is there any other building sadder than this?
if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?
if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.
you see love in every place that you step foot into.
his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.
not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.
he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.
how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.
“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”
his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.
in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.
he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.
how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.
“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”
“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”
“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”
“not at all. don’t worry.”
you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”
“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”
he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”
you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.
if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.
“how was the doctor?”
“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”
you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”
he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”
“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”
“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.
he heaves a sigh.
“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”
the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.
“you’re right. i’m sorry.”
“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”
you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”
your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.
“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”
“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”
your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?
“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.
his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.
“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”
you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.
“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”
and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.
“what do they need that for?!”
he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.
“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”
“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.
“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”
you grimace. “am i scary?”
“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”
as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.
“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.
your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.
“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”
“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”
“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”
“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.
you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.
jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.
“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.
he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.
“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”
he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.
“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”
with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”
“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.
silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.
you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”
“few? you mean a loooot?”
“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”
“you told me you wanted the service bell!”
you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.
did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?
perhaps.
“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”
“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”
his lover?
jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.
“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”
a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.
“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”
“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”
you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.
“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”
you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.
“eeeee!”
he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.
“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.
left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.
“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.
he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.
this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.
with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.
“okay, spit.”
you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.
“ahhhh-”
“this is embarrassing!”
“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”
and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.
“see? was that so bad?”
as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.
“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.
you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.
“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”
“it’s your fault.”
you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.
“you’re so sweet.”
the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.
“am i making you sad?”
you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.
“no?”
“no!”
“okay, come here then.”
he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.
“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”
“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”
“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.
“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.
“what…?”
“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”
you pout. “are you really?”
“oh, come onnnn.”
he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.
“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”
to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.
you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.
“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”
his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”
“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”
“did you not hurt yourself?”
“me?”
“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”
you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.
“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”
that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.
“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”
“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”
“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”
he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.
“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”
“i guess that’s fine.”
it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.
from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”
as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.
“baby, someone can enter any minute.”
“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.
you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.
“i’m curious about another thing.”
“what’s that?”
“did you cry?”
he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.
“almost…”
“why almost?”
“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.
you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”
“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”
“ow-”
your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.
“red panda!”
a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.
“i want one so fucking bad.”
the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”
jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.
“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”
“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.
his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.
“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”
“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”
she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.
“you look adorable sleeping.”
“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”
he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.
your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”
“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”
“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”
she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?
“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”
you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.
“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”
she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.
“you know where this goes.”
she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.
“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”
“it’s fine. thank you.”
not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.
“i’ll draw your blood now.”
the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.
another one, jungkook laments inside.
“____, i’m right here.”
you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”
“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”
you take a sharp inhale.
if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.
“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”
really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.
“hey, baby. look at the tv.”
the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.
“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”
“of course!”
that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.
“all done. you can go back to resting.”
“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.
“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”
“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”
“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.
the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”
“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”
“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”
“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”
“i won’t!”
“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”
“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”
“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”
the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.
uh-oh.
“did she seriously wink while saying that?”
“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”
“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.
“right?!”
he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.
“that was weird.”
“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”
“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”
you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”
“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”
“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”
“and so what?”
he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.
“i’m obviously yours.”
but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.
“it’s so annoying.”
the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.
“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”
it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.
“i love you.”
almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.
“no, there’s no need for that.”
but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.
“are you sure?”
“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”
of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.
“and how will you do that?”
“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”
“come up with what?”
to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.
“mom…?”
you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.
“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.
“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”
“but you don’t have to because you have us.”
jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.
her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.
“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”
“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”
jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.
“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”
“it’s not only because i’m worried!”
she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.
“then what else?”
“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”
did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.
“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”
you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.
“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”
“does my son feed you well?”
“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”
you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.
“is that so?”
you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.
“mhmm!”
perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.
“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”
“what could that be?”
“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”
because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.
she utters your name sadly.
“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”
she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.
“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”
“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”
“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”
because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.
“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”
you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.
“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”
you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.
“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”
“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”
if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.
you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”
what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.
“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”
“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”
she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.
“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”
the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.
“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”
“thank you…”
“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”
she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.
“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.
“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”
you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.
the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.
you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.
you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.
at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.
your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.
“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.
you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.
you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?
“baby!”
you look behind to search for the source of the sound.
you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.
you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.
you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.
oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.
you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.
god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.
a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.
“i committed another crime for you today.”
“huh?”
your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.
hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?
“what did you do?”
his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.
…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.
you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.
“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”
“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”
“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”
he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.
as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.
“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”
“are you crazy?!”
the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”
“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”
“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.
you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.
seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.
passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.
how fucking great.
“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.
“a-ah, yes.”
you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.
“i will check your temperature too.”
“go on.”
you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.
“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”
jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.
“i wanted to smell the rain.”
“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”
you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”
you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.
“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”
“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”
“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”
“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.
so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.
“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”
his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.
“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”
“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”
“i feel fine though?”
“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”
seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.
but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.
“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.
“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”
your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”
“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”
you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.
“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”
“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”
“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”
you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”
damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?
were you serious about the no kiss rule?
“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”
he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”
“you want to see me that furious again?”
“never in my wildest dreams.”
he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.
“here, have some more cake.”
he offers you a spoonful of cake.
no, it’s bigger.
as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.
you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.
oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.
your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.
also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.
“your nails look pretty.”
he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.
“your mom did them for me.”
“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”
the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.
“did you choose white?”
“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”
oh, that makes total sense.
“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”
“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.
his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.
“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”
“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”
your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.
“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”
the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.
“i’m so happy with what we have.”
you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.
could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?
“is there anything else i could assist you with?”
and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.
“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.
he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.
“please come to our wedding.”
the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.
he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”
the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.
before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.
your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.
damn it, you wish she was also here for that.
“you haven’t stopped smiling.”
“you love me and you never let me forget that.”
you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.
you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.
jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.
“i’m so lucky. i love you.”
you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.
“i love you too.”
he cries infront of you.
almost.
he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.
you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?
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sttoru · 11 months ago
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your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.
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you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.
“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.
satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.
the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.
“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”
satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.
you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.
he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.
satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.
“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.
it was perfect. all of you was perfect.
your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.
the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.
“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.
neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.
the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.
however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.
his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.
“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”
you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.
“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.
satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.
over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.
“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.
until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.
“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”
satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.
he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.
“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.
the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”
you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.
“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.
you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.
you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.
“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.
the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.
as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.
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