#Some of those quotes are from my own head

[slowlyvaliantmoon]

eegggghhhhhhhhhhhhh

[whump-quotes]

"They didn’t break [...] but there were parts of them that they allowed to die. Maybe they’re just a ghost created by every unwanted advance, every boundary [...] crossed. They’re a ghost in a world that had once felt like home."

- @for-the-love-of-angst, We Don’t Beg

[gangplanksorenji]

Pulchritude

Pairing: ITZY’s Yeji x Male Reader

Word Count: 7,089

A/N: It's been a while Orenjideul! This wasn't planned to be on my draft schedule but planned at the same time LOL (pretty much quickly written). Also, thanks for @mintwithchoco for the beta-reading that made the insights about the fic!!

This was originally part of something I've been working on with and expanded it with such vague plot to probably spice things up. Enjoy reading!! <3

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“You’re crazy for this one, Chaewon.”

“It’s not my doing—” Chaewon retorts, circling her fingers onto the rim of her glass with such a distinctive smell of a concoction that piques you, distracting you a little from her words. “—this is just a part of a test.”

She drinks from her glass and darts her eyes towards you, laced with anticipation and that hint of doubt in you. You smirk with her given stare, feeling that she's getting ahead of herself with it and she’ll soon eat up her words. Extending your arm a little onto the head of the chair, you look at her with vanity and such a playful intent that intimidates her a little. “I’d say you being here is somewhat helpful by all means…”

“And why is that?” 

Her eyes never fail to intimidate you, those orbs glowing in anticipation as she doesn't break her sophisticated demeanor. You fix your posture and lean closer to her, elbows on the table and your hands subtly clasped, answering her. “So I could let you know that you’ll be embarrassed at the end of the day.”

Chaewon’s hubris wouldn’t let your words slide and make her believe you, a chortle audible within your ears as she shifted onto her usual phlegmatic disposition. “We’ll see about that but for now—” Her well-manicured nails click the champagne glass two times, before giving a sly smile of a faulty sincerity. “—you gotta do what you gotta do.”

It wouldn’t end in a usual Chaewon fashion unless her drink is empty, sipping the last few milliliters of that delectable concoction, then getting off on her seat with her last words of the night. “Text me when you’ve done it, then we'll meet tomorrow afternoon.”

Grabbing her designer bag then leaving towards the doors of such a high-class bar, you could just sense the air reeking defeat all over you, but you’ll prove her wrong. You’ll just thank yourself for getting rid of her condescending nature albeit it really fuels your aim for victory, so is the upbeat music the bar brings. 

You’ll make things work and take that triumphant ecstasy up to your name, with someone’s panties on the floor. 

“I guess we need the devil inside me to take over.” Of course you will, and you’ll do that just about right.

---

Maybe the myths are true: sometimes, the devil does unspeakable things and it’s only a matter of time before it unveils its real nature. Not exactly an excerpt, a quote or the sayings of the elderly but mostly your own common conscience that has its own intersections of roads you can’t fathom nor follow—deep inside, you’re on a leash and Chaewon’s words intoxicates you, and you’ll prove her wrong after this. 

“We’re going to have some fun tonight.”

“Oh, do you think we will?” You ask pretty playfully and audaciously, playing with her possible games. You barely know her aside from being that time where you’d constantly steal glances with her during and after Chaewon’s existence at the bar and subconsciously know you’d always come. At that moment, you know something’s disturbed within you and it’s in a good way—this is something that’s completely going to serve gratification, and you can sense how strong your gut feeling is.

“We will.” The girl inches herself closer towards you, your back pressed against the cold concrete as she pins you with her frame, fidgeting her fingers onto the hem of your shirt and then the penultimate, such dexterous fingers circling around your chest.

You feel her minty breath mixed with a hint of tequila brush against your skin as you raise her head, eyes in contact with yours—you know she’s proving something, even just with her words but those wouldn’t be enough.

“Care for an introduction?” Your hands fancy its way onto her waist, as you endearingly looked at those sharp, monolid eyes of hers rivaling that alluring stare. 

Her eyes dart between your face and onto your body, as her voice speaks up in a volume.“Yeji. You can call me Yeji.” 

Her voice invites you, and you’re captivated with her sultry tone and god, that stare of hers would make any man fall upon your own judgment but on your shoes, it would bear such a challenge. Even with such temptation handled pretty well, you can’t help but hint such an invitation under her spell—those eyes, her sultry voice, such a beautiful face and the promised treasure of them all, her impeccable figure.

You’d like to start on something fresh, induce such a new chapter that’s bound to end up in such an incredible fashion but you could only assume those things, yet.

Well, you won’t fight yourself over some idiotic retaliation between your temptations and let yourself be the judge of her capabilities and this doesn’t help when she’s just inches away from laying such a mark that will define one’s lust.

Looking straight to the abyssal void of her eyes, you’re enticed as you lift off her chin with your finger. “There you go, I love a woman with manners.” You hit her up with her own medicine: tempting.

“Who says anything about manners?” Even such chagrins or predicaments wouldn’t stop her, not unless you tell her so as the only thing you could feel are those luscious lips locked against yours. 

The sounds of such muscle creating vacuum of sounds and suctions overpowers the fading noise of the music the bar resonates—all you can hear is her kisses up against yours and you’d love to listen to it all day. 

Nothing too short nor sweet, but god, this was enough to make such a bold verdict.

“A talented kisser, hm?” Yeji hums as she pulls away from your lips’ embrace, feeling captivated with the way you display such talent.

“A girl as pretty as you would make a man like this.” Your hands then freely roam to the limited skin her waist shows but you’re not the guy to complain, but to be grateful. “Now tell me something, Yeji…”

Yeji’s eyes widen; pupils dilate as she anticipates your next words, “Tell what?”

You smirk, as your buttons were pressed enough to make such a bold move. “Why would you want me? From all of the people there, why me?”

Yeji smirks just like you, then bites her lips, using such a modicum of her actions to indulge you even more. “I just know the world destined us to this moment—led us to this moment and god…” Yeji’s hands unbuttons the topmost button of your shirt as her hands permeate such heat onto your chest to push you onto the edge. “I know what you’re gonna give to me tonight.”

Such telepathic abilities enable you to read her thoughts, and you know exactly where she’s going towards, “Let me guess, a show for the world to know?”

“For the world to fucking know.” Yeji’s words end your sentence, and seal the deal.

Licking her lips in delight, you can feel her hands roam on your chest, your abdomen then the final stop, your growing bulge. She cups onto it like it’s something she would ruin and take care of, the best of both worlds as you let out such a nigh-inaudible moan, and Yeji knows exactly you’re liking this.

“You always need to ask.” And there she goes with her wonders.

All you can see is Yeji promptly getting on her knees, and with her absolute dexterity, does her talent to unbuckle and undress your bottom half more than a count to ten.

“God…” She’s mesmerized with the view she’s currently having: you, still in your boxers as her disposition clearly displays awe and amazement. “You’re hard already this fast? Must’ve turned you on too much?”

“Who wouldn’t with a girl like you?” It just shows your evident arousal, and Yeji’s grateful to bear such an entrance. Giving the green light, she then slowly strips off your boxers down to your ankles, mostly gravity doing the work and there she goes, such eyes gleaming with utter hunger and lust.

Her lips mouth such words full of awe as her hands cups the base of your erection, leisurely stroking it as she utters such profanity, “God, your cock is something else I didn’t expect.”

Your hubris just elevated, and let your commanding demeanor take over. “Glad it is. Now, show me what you’re made of.”

She wouldn’t lose against such a hubristic battle, and settles up for a possibly stellar moment. “I won’t disappoint.”

A clear view of her lips sends pecs around your length, letting you know the immediate worshiping and carnal needs fueling her for the time being. From the base up to your already leaking slit, she didn’t waste such precious time letting you know how much she loves this and it's just evident from the start. 

She grows impatient with her repetitive kisses and ups the ante, knowing how this will make your world go wild. “I may just find myself occupied more with this.”

“Less talking and more sucking.” As much as her patience grows thinner by the second, and so are yours. She scoffs off a giggle, knowing that the main event will be such a roller coaster ride.

With the last suction of her lips collecting that colorless liquid, she advances onto something pleasurable. Her tongue then dances around your red cockhead, swirling and permeating her saliva around, upping such sensitivity on your end and with that result, you shiver and inevitably moan in response.

She suckles on your swollen head, then advances past your frenulum to do the wonder she does to your slit and god, this was elevating the experience of such gratification.

“God, s-such a talented mouth, huh?”

“Gifted, I guess.” She continues her oral assault on your throbbing length, thrusting her head up and down as she quickly accelerates the pace up to both your likings. 

The quicker speed sums up the possible experience she has and it shows—such technique is unmatched with the way her tongue dances around your shaft and the little introduction of such a serrated culprit antagonizing the pleasure you’re experiencing, albeit, you wouldn’t bother with such little pain. She takes more than half of your shaft as spits dominate her heart-shaped lips, running down to her cheeks and onto her chin which shows the passion she’s giving in every second.

The occurrence won’t be complete without elevated stimulation: you’d just feel your balls being fondled by her right hand as she encourages more for you to feel. 

And it’s working well, too well for you to utter such compliments. “You’d make myself occupied too, i-if you want—shit, that’s great…”

An audible mhmm can be heard between her bobs as she elevated the speed, then resulting into such a mess that’s just turning you on even more. Saliva continues to drip down onto her chin and onto your clothes that’s probably damned to be given care with, tears flowing down her cheek as she takes more and suddenly, she tests her limits with a single act of boldness and bravery.

She rests her nose onto your abdomen, testing her gag reflex as she’s determined to tame it but in the end, it wasn’t in her favor. Gasps escape her mouth as she catches her breath, saliva connected onto those sinful lips was just the cherry on top yet your grow little concern, afraid she may push herself too much as soon as she coughed. “You good, Yeji?”

“I’m good—I’m good, I’m g-great—your cock is just addicting.” The succulence was evident with her repeated slurps onto your shaft, and you’re just in total bliss with her performance.

Things are not done, and she’d like to end the business with a good note.

She proved herself enough and with her immediate harsh pace, you wouldn’t be a hypocrite nor lie about it. The blurry orange-bobbing head of hers just becomes a repeated image tarnished in your brain, etched until the end of time. She continues what she’s best at, gripping your thighs for further display of talent and as a reply with the surging pleasure coursing through your veins, you opted to fight the leverage with the gripping of your hands onto her audacious head.

Constant slurps, gags and moans just became the music in the air and it’s just the paramount mood you're indulged into. You’d be damned if someone will see the both of you in such a sinful act but you don’t care anymore, not when Yeji’s mouth does explicit wonders on every inch of your body and clouding your mind with such sinful thoughts.

The head game is literally onto another level of experience, but such things wouldn’t last for so long.

She can feel your persistent throbs in her mouth, and it’s a common courtesy to ask where it will end. “You’re pretty close, I assume.”

“Yeah—” You groan in pleasure as she strokes your saliva-sheathed cock with the utmost pace her hands can muster. “—and I want it all over your face.”

Yeji just smiled mischievously, knowing how things will end up on a pivotal climax and how things will unveil between the both of you. “Then do it—cover me.”

All you can see are those pretty, sharp eyes in awe as she closes it, her visage in full display for you to paint on. This is a canvas worth investing such artwork on  and you’d besmirch it with such strokes worth millions. She moans as she feels each rope touches her face, mostly her cheeks, nose, lips, chin and some even getting onto her hair. Those fifteen seconds felt like a minute as you’re in a total state of bliss and for such a conclusion, she strokes you in hopes of milking you dry, emptying up your reservoir.

“God, that tasted great.” Yeji licks her lips and hums in satisfaction and when your senses are coming back to life, you ask her with such doubt.

“How would you clean up?”

Yeji chuckles as she stands up, facing you, “No one wouldn’t care.”

You smile sincerely as you dress your bottom-half up, satisfied as her voice invites you. “Let’s get out of here.”

She’s partly a monster; partly an angel in disguise, yet she can be the best of both worlds and it’s only a matter of time before depths will be reached.

---

Gone are the boisterous music ringing repeatedly in your ears and the alcohol that will probably dominate your body, because at this time, there’s nothing better than her lips locked against yours for the second time.

She feels ruthless and so were you, feeling her tongue dancing against yours and you gripping her waist harshly as you deepen such entanglement.

Her room was something pivotal about your already impeding arousal: dim lights, vanilla-scented air freshener and such a balcony for the both of you to enjoy, and maybe it’s something else than what’s usually known for people to do there.

“Never knew you could have such a room, Yeji.”

Yeji smirks as her nails dug into your skin gently, pressing it playfully as she mouthed her own pride. “This is nothing compared to anything you’ll see but for now, you’ll be more than my guest.” And then her eyes locked up against yours as those orbs wandered around your beautiful face.

Her eyes really tell you about her adoration, as the earlier test was just the tip of the iceberg, and guess what, you passed with flying colors.

“I’d love to be one, Yeji.”

You then share another torrid kiss with her, feeling attached to her ultimately and falling under her spell. She kisses you genuinely as you reciprocate, but you want more, so you pull out of her lips’ embrace, earning a moan from her as you find your way on peppering her neck with pecs and those sharp collar bones. 

You’d eventually take a glance of her flawless features, even though it’s evident ruined by you earlier but it’s such an important element of such undying beauty. You earned your minuscule rewards—her faint moans and chants calling you—and you’d love to double it, with more skin, your lips parts and marks.

“God, please—fuck…” Yeji’s pleas are audible enough for you to be distracted and it’s worth your while knowing it’s something that could elevate such an experience.

“Please what, Yeji?” You continue pecking her creamy, porcelain skin, suckling on it but not enough to result in hickeys and god, it just resulted in sexier moans escaping her lips. 

She’s struggling to articulate words that can formulate her wants, but she’d put up an end to such a clouding demise. “I want more—god—more, please…”

You grip her waist harsher, gaining such control as you pin her harder onto the wall and what a poor soul whimpering upon your own dominative assertion. You grant her needs as you caress her waist while peppering her with torrid kisses, resulting in such a cacophonous symphony that you would cherish hearing every second. 

You wanted more from her and her answer still made your satisfaction resting onto a low zero. “What do you want from me, baby?”

The word elicits a gasp from her mouth, feeling appalled with such a name she always finds hot and funnily enough, the stars are aligning. 

She whimpers but manages to think clearly and didn’t hesitate to be vocal about it, “Your cock, please—” 

As she’s about to advance her hands onto your clothes crotch, you stop her as you shake your head leisurely, having another plan in mind. “No—have some patience and also…” Yeji’s eyes scintillate beneath the dim light that appears as she’s anticipating what words could leave your mouth. “I gotta return the favor.” 

Your hands roamed its way onto the hem of her tight skirt, and asked such a question she can’t deny. “May I?”

She hitched a broken breath and gulped as she responded intimately, “Yes—yes, you can.”

Your fingers ran towards the edge of her skirt and eventually found the zipper and did such wonders, things that could easily soothe her and make her more comfortable. As much as you wanted to see it down on the floor, revealing her probably wet panties, you have other thoughts about your own, selfish arousal.

“Don’t want it on the floor?”

“This outfit, Yeji—” Your left hand then forced her figure pressed onto yours as she yelped with your immediate action, earning a startled whimper as her eyes looked at you like it’s her favorite candy. She loves your subtle harsh acts, and she won’t be deprived of any since this was just a gentle introduction. “—looks amazing on you.”

Yeji smiles as the compliment strokes her ego and how genuine you sounded, “Thanks, for—ooh, gosh!”

She yelped with your touch permeating on her legs as you roamed your hands towards her clothed regions which earned such a sultry, needy moan from Yeji. You can feel the heat that’s rivaling your cold hands and as the cherry on top, her wetness evident from her slit which is probably leaking right from the start.

You loosen up the zip of her skirt and god, she vocalizes how better it felt and maybe it’s mostly because of the fact that your fingers are pleasuring her crotch against that fine silk that’s about to be ruined thanks to your dexterity. It was pursuant to her and wherever she wants it, you’re going to follow it and with her subsequent moans, you’d like to let her know that your skills are up to par. Feeling the hunger running down your body, you can’t help but share another kiss, but this time, it feels chaste since all of the attention and unfeigned emotions are translated down with your fingers. They both felt like deprived lions from the wild, and such an inevitable kiss will bound to feed the pleasure the both of you are needing.

The evident bulge pokes down on your pants and Yeji was quick to notice that, cupping it and caressing to tame the beast. You moaned with her actions and so she is, too, but it's a repeated chant in your ears as she pleads with you for your own comfort. “Your cock, please.”

You didn’t care anymore, and knowing how the both of you wanted this then you wouldn’t deny her for doing the same thing you’re great at. Even with pleasure lingering onto every lobe in her brain, it won’t stop her to claim her promised prize as you help her undress your bottom-half, unbuckling your belt as she does the last step and all you can feel are your defenses going down, one by one as the raging beast that’s inside that clothed prison is about to be unshackled. 

The wait was worth it and the both of you are now in such a vulnerable state that a single touch would make a writhe or shiver as sensitivity is the culprit. Yeji’s fingers are on point and dexterous as expected—the way she danced her hands around your shaft, stroking it in a corkscrew motion is making you feel such bliss that’s unmatched and god, the scene is just hot.

You never thought the sight of the both of you masturbating would be so damn arousing and thought it was just some myth but yet again, hypocrisy is eliminated within the time being.

“God—you really can’t wait, huh?” 

“How can I? We need to mutually feel the same.” Yeji knows her pursuit against your aching beast wasn’t going to bother you, but rather the opposite. Her strokes were going livid as you groan with the lack of lubrication but it was exchanged by the pleasure that she gives you and of course, you wouldn’t lose onto this game and did the same, possibly vibrating your fingers and you maintain such an up and down motion which inevitably elicits such visceral moan from her.

The both of you did your best with your own expertise, doing such sinful things without even the main event is honestly criminal, and you would hold onto that because you want to make use of this and you’d prove to her you’re as good as she is.

“You’re fucking dripping, Yeji—god, did I turn you on so much?” Possibly a rhetorical question or maybe not, but either way, you know she’ll be a little irritated enough to defend her claim and quit such hypocrisy.

“N-No shit—you’re that talented too, huh?” You smile with her inadvertent compliment as you avert your eyes through her clothed crotch and it’s being ruined with her own doing, leaving such a masterpiece of clothing worthless, spoiled with her own juices.

“A natural, more likely—ah!” You yelp with Yeji’s sudden squeeze of your shaft in between her strokes as you glare at her playfully, her face then forming such a seductive smirk then a little scoff with your confidence. 

“You’re cocky too? God, you’re such a rare gem.”

A rare find, you suppose which is truly the truth—you’ll prove to her that there’s no one she can find that will be better than you. Your impatience is growing thinner by the second even with such a hot mess between both your crotches, and you’d let her know about your frustrations and needs.

“Yeji, I need to fuck you now.”

The tone is commanding, your face stern and her eyes widen with those simple words of need. Your eyes meet hers and they never lie—those glowing orbs of yours didn’t cease the exhilaration you’re feeling and she’s the one to blame. 

As much as it hurts for the both of you to stop, it will be rewarding once the climax settles in for such a spectacular show.

“How would you want me?” Yeji’s voice was bubbly but still hinting at that lace of seduction, being the alluring vixen that she is. 

“Strip that skirt, lay onto your stomach, and lastly, feet onto the floor.”

She is as thrilled as you are, and immediately puts up a show but doesn't go further without a question for such clarification, “Don’t you wanna see me naked?”

You would want to, but not now.

“Just the skirt, please. Everything else, on.” Commanding and straight to the point, just how you wanted all along. 

There were no complaints or the fact she’s abstaining from this command of yours, and in fact, it maybe even made it hotter. The way she’s seductively teasing and pulling her zipper until gravity does the job, it’s just a sight to behold and the final product left you in awe: the ruined black silk panties in such alongside the scribbled pattern of her stocking that just made the sight sizzle it complete heat that she emanates (figuratively).

“Like what you see?” She turns around then again, showing you her perfect figure all with your eyes to feast on as you were a step away from your final prize.

“Yes, now please turn around and lay on your stomach like I said.”

Your imperative nature sets herself in a position of reluctance but then shifts onto an immediate opposite. She does what she was told and wiggles her ass leisurely to invite you with a temptation to ruin her and even though if she won’t be vocal about it, you'd make it so that she won't be able to walk until the next day.

Yeji looks back onto her shoulder and lets out such profanity words, “Make a mess out of me—I don’t break easily.”

You won’t be convinced until you try it yourself but looking at her robustness and skills earlier, you might have to be biased with your judgment. “We’ll see about that.”

Completely kicking your garments to god knows where, you’re now in a better state of control as you tease her wet folds, earning a whimper that becomes uncontrollable as soon as you sink your finger against her raging heat. 

You can’t wait no more, you absolutely can’t because you’re dying to know what she feels like and with her last bit of defense out of your way, it’s time to do the unthinkable.

Now parting her supple legs with your hands, your eyes feast on her impeccable figure then onto that delicious cunt that’s making you drool. Unable to contain your enjoyment and your fantasies against her, you caught her by surprise with an unexpected twist—probably the twist that you’re involved in would be your tongue lathering her folds and tasting the escaping nectar that she produces.

It was succulent and you dived in it easily as the musky, floral scent of her tight cunt invites you, and you didn’t waste time as this was a golden opportunity. You wanted to tease her just for the sake of stimulation, playing a game with her ramping orgasm building up but you’d reckon the opposite and such pace ensued impatiently.

“Fuck! Such a t-talented mouth—fuck!” Yeji’s whines were coherent enough for you to increase the pace and double your efforts—you wish to let her reach her denied climax earlier with your fingers and your mouth. It wasn’t far off as you can feel her juices forming a rivulet onto her labia and spreading onto your chin and mouth, knowing how incredibly close she can be. She calls you repeatedly, gripping the sheets tight enough to rip it but it can’t and you eat her out with an effort that no one can rival.

A single wail is what it took before she screams, and there goes your long-chased win within a second away—

“I’m going to cum—” Surprisingly short and articulate, you let her give everything she has and there she goes—

Yeji’s orgasm comes in quickly as soon as she mutters those desperate words, and she immediately lays waste as she constantly spews liquid after liquid onto her sheets which instantly gets ruined. The both of you didn’t care about it but rather mind your own business while you still extended her climax, achieving such heights of her vocals.

“God—just fuck m-me now, please…”

Your cock is aching and throbbing in need, and with the penultimate action making her see such stars, it’s time for the last and the main event to take place.

You ask her if she’s in good condition and she didn’t bother to assure you, so with her green light, you stepped onto the throttle and gave in to your deepest, carnal desires.

Standing up, you then give her backside a last look before you plunge your length inside her wet hole and immediately groan with its tightness, feeling like her walls are gripping your shaft with a Herculean effort that probably was the blessing in disguise. 

“You’re fucking tight, Yeji—this feels just right.” And it is too right to be true, and you love it.

“Stretch me out—fuck, you’re crazy.”

Lust ignites you and it serves such an everlasting fuel for what’s bound to happen, and you give in just like that. You started off slow, letting her get accustomed to your length as you bury the entirety of your shaft then withdraw with just the tip inside, showing such penetration that could make any girl’s mind go haywire.

It’s starting to get to her slowly in every thrust you do—the utter pleasure your cock brings was phenomenal and with her small whines could determine how she’s really feeling deep inside. She grips onto the bedsheets like her life depends on it and it’s only going to get better once you manage such a pace that will make her think of you and you only.

Her cunt tightens once you spanked that pristine skin of hers and then called out to let her know something, “I’ll own this cunt until you see the stars above, do you understand?”

Between her wails of pleasure is her ephemeral nod with your question, unable to speak up due to the stimulation that’s coursing through her. Every stroke you do causes such slaps that adds to the orchestra of her moans that can be possibly heard outside as her room is too puny to shackle such sinful sounds of sex. You grip her hips harshly and increase your pace, making you moan on how she clenches her velvety walls once your length hits it balls-deep inside her.

“Want me to be rough, Yeji?” You hammer your hips in a velocity that’s making her brain in shambles, unable to mutter a response after a second in which you didn’t like.

A small punishment would do the job, but this is rewarding for her and a statement by yours. “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

Her breaths are ragged between your thrusts as she cries with your immediate barrage of spanks, causing her to finally answer you even with her mind unable to achieve such clear articulacy. “Yes, p-please—I want it, ow!”

Another spank onto those pristine skin of hers never fails to make you throb with how it jiggled with such harshness, and the marks that’s finally imprinted on the soft skin tells such roughness. As she grows accustomed with your length due to her repeated chants of pleasure, you quickly opted for what could raise such an experience.

If her mind is ultimately clouded with you and can’t think straight, then you’re the opposite, clearly adapting to the situation.

“Yeji…”

“Wha—ooh! Mffh—mmh!” Ragged breaths leave her mouth as she struggles to breath with what you’ve done—you opted for a leverage that asserts your domination over her making the long, black lace at the back of her neck deemed as a leash rather than an aesthetic of her outfit. She probably liked the fact of such risking playing between life and death thanks to the asphyxiation and it didn’t stop you, but rather prove a point. 

“You like being choked and used, slut?” Your words just made Yeji elicit more moans as she’s being tamed, controlled by you and god, the way she’s creaming against your rapidly ramming length tells you about her satisfaction. The sheets will probably rip off no matter how durable they are and lastly, it will be soaked with her own juices and that’s thanks to your own doing. Her feet then raise up in the air as you give a better angle of penetration, switching between the black lace and onto her legs for leverage.

Even though she's barely stripped from her clothing, her clothes really compliments her figure and you’d like to take this mental picture and etch it on the deepest parts of your brain—something worth remembering until the end of time. The way that she's a disheveled, ruined mess right now just fuels you to break her in half and you’re not going to stop until you’ve fulfilled such destiny.

You wanted your hands to be occupied onto something and not being idle most of the time and with such a completely ruined mess of a girl she is now, you’d love to add more of it. You then grab her wrists and command her to arch her back, in which she complies and immediately, your hands reach onto those perky breasts of hers with the clothing still in the way. You caress them and Yeji can vouch she could feel such intensity even with such stellar clothing being a nuisance but there’s nothing to worry about, not when you’re giving her absolutely everything to feel.

You didn’t stop there as you leaned your frame closer to her while hammering her tight cunt repeatedly and utter the words, “This cunt is mine now, Yeji.”

She nodded and exclaimed a faint yes as you gave her pecs onto her shoulders, letting her know how much you love every single inch of hers and how you’re marking your own territory. Between your kisses is a feeling that something’s building up and you can feel it with the way her walls pulsate around your shaft—you know she's close and it’s up for you to let her wants prevail.

There wasn’t any choice and you love to see Yeji writhe as you give her such thrusts before her cardinal end. 

“I know you’re dying to cum—” You invite her to give in as she moans with your words, urging such a release that could let her see the things you wanted her to have a sight of. “—so cum on this cock. Cum for me.”

Your words act like a lever that opens up her reservoir and it feels like a tsunami surging around your length. With multiple cries to spare, you wanted to make her feel something exquisite while achieving her own orgasm, letting you finger avert her chin facing you, against her shoulder as you kissed her lips intimately. Time felt slow as the both of you locked lips and to ride off her high, you slowed down because you still wanted her to feel such intense gratification through her awaited climax.

“I n-never felt that good in my entire life.” Yeji’s breaths were jagged, as she recovers from her orgasm even with your lengthy still penetrating and possibly destroying her insides. Even with a possibly mind-fucked Yeji, she knew what you wanted all along and didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Aren’t you close?”

“Well, if you didn’t cum, I would’ve come first.”

An audible gasp resonated in your ears as it piqued her willingness to help you, and it was evident in her tone. “I could feel it too—just fuck me silly again and just cum.”

She recovered fast because of the evident change of her tone, and you, still a bit puzzled and hesitant knowing she may want a load deep inside her. “Don’t want it inside—”

“Then do it in my mouth—you fucking which hole is now your choice.”

Her invitation is just persuasive and alluring and it never fails you to fall a victim for. Knowing how she wanted it, as much as you wanna bother such another session being between her legs, you’d want to fulfill her wants and it’s safer with the help of a great oral ending.

“On your knees then, and open your mouth. I’m going to fuck your face.” You let her position and prepare herself for what's about to come as surprisingly, her legs are still working fine after all of the havoc you’ve brought into her.

Yeji closes her eyes, her mouth agape, ready for the taking as you stroke your length in its absolute vigor and there she goes, taking you again for the second time. This time, you take control by grabbing her ponytail that’s shockingly intact even with the ruckus you made her be in earlier. She’s taking you like a good girl as you ram into her face with abandon, skin slapping signaling the constant harshness you bring and it is perfect. She gagged and you didn’t care, yet she managed to tame it but wasn’t successful as always—you praised her attempts and wasn’t close to being futile. Her nails dug into the skin of your thighs as she let it be the leverage onto your constant rummage in her throat, and she welcomed every thrust with a gleeful demeanor, locking her gaze towards you.

She cries, tears running down her cheek as she was a disheveled mess and you’re proud of what you’ve done. You could feel the familiar sensation tingling near your stomach and a better way to end such a monumental note is giving everything you can. 

The unstoppable force meets the immovable object, as such velocity is unparalleled, hammering her tight throat like it’s her cunt and within seconds from her last gag you could feel everything coming down to this moment. Here it goes: Yeji chokes yet manages to keep your length all the way in, you groaning and calling her name like a chant and of course, the awaited climax that filled her throat up to the brim. You stayed for five more seconds, burying your length as her arms writhe with her repeated gags and then, pulls out immediately, strings of saliva adding to the mess she is and of course, the image of Yeji almost choking out your load but manages to compose herself to swallow it all, humming gleefully as she not get to taste the entirety of your delicious load.

“Like I said—it’s fucking delicious—hah.” The both of you caught your own breaths yet Yeji shows the struggle evidently. Still on her knees, she managed to show what you’ve done as your reward and the last thing you just saw her go is gulp down all of it in one go, into her stomach. She initiated the last dance with her hands grabbing your shaft, then directing it onto her mouth in order to clean the mess she made onto it. You groan with the sensitive surge she brings you, thankfully her tongue doing the work but you don't complain as within seconds, she ends her oral assault and it makes you feel spectacular for a long while.

You cup her cheeks, admiring the glamorous mess you made in which she unhesitantly neaten with her utmost capabilities. “You’re so damn pretty, Yeji.”

“You too.”

It was mutual at this moment and you never knew it would end like this but her voice wants to tell you that something isn’t over, yet.

“Help me clean up?”

And it was a hint, just out of curiosity, you’ll probably pull the trigger because how can you not refuse her invitation?

---

After countless sleepless nights and tumultuous days, you find yourself at the top of the world, and what better way to end this is just to go home, lay down and reminisce what a day this has been.

“The lights are pretty, huh?” Yeji interrupts your moment with her voice, and she locks her eyes towards yours, staring deeply into your soul as you fall onto it yet manage to snap back to reality.

“Yeah, it is—also, I just can’t comprehend how we ended up this way.” Yeji’s on the same boat as you and you could feel it in your nerves. This felt like a fever dream and you loved every second of it.

“Maybe that’s how destiny works, huh?”

You scoff, as your lips curled up a faint smile and muttered, “Maybe it is and yeah, I should leav—”

“Leave?” Yeji pouts as she inches herself closer onto yours, holding your wrist as her tone hints at her disappointment. “Don’t you wanna bother and stay just for this night?”

You can’t resist her, you absolutely can’t as you don’t want to be the bearer of bad news that will make her feel awkward.

You have a choice and you’ll stick with that… in her favor.

You smile sincerely, and Yeji’s holistic demeanor appears, “Okay, how can I resist you?”

“Up for you to find out.”

Maybe she was good, but honestly, she’s great. She is partly a monster and partly an angel, and you’ll live in those worlds together as you find your soulless heart beating rapidly for the first time in a long while.

You’re completely invigorated, and you’ll embrace this new chapter that opened.

“She’s good, she’s good—she’s great.”

---

You continue ruminating about the day you’ve had, and every moment was worth remembering. You smiled in your victorious attempts, which is having her number on your phone and sleeping with her through the night. As Yeji does her hygiene in the bathroom, a buzz on your phone piques your attention, and it was no other than the devil that made yourself look like an angel despite what you descended yourself into.

kim_chaewon on 23:15 - “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you huh? Well done with the second phase, meet me tomorrow afternoon for further details. Enjoy your night for now—we’re still not done.”

She received it damn well minutes ago and made her eat up her words, but you’re still clearly within the base of the iceberg, and you’re still starting your remarkable journey.

“Hah… Of course we aren’t…” There was no surprise with that as you muttered in response to her text.

Yet there are multiple questions lingering in your mind: How did she know about this? How would she know if you’re lying or not? What may happen tomorrow? How long will this take? 

You could never answer those unless you figure things out, and let Chaewon introduce you to more of what’s possible between both worlds: you and everyone else’s, including hers.

[itgetzweird08]

“You’re nervous..”

You said so matter of factly, your head resting on Bakugou’s chest. He grunted, opening one eye to look down at your face. “I can tell,” you continued “Because you didn’t clean your room before we laid down… and you didn’t do your reps. You only miss those when you’re sick or when you’re so nervous you can’t focus. And I know you aren’t sick so…” he scoffed, closing his eye again. “You should be a goddamn detective if this hero shit don’t work out.” You chuckled, but his joke didn’t distract you. “Talk to me Kats…you’re nervous about tomorrow, aren’t you?”

He stayed silent, and for a moment you thought prying was a bad idea. You had only been dating for four months, since Christmas, and you didn’t want to over step any still fresh boundaries. But Katsuki sighed, shrugging softly. He figured, if there was anyone he could be real with, it was you. Plus, he was trying to learn to communicate a little better anyways.

“Yeah. ‘M nervous. Not cuz I don’t think we’ll win, but because of…you.”

You sat up, looking at him confused. “Because of me?” He huffed, sitting up and facing you. “Yeah- I know we’ll kick ass. We got the top heroes, Mr. Aizawa, and both of our classes. Even though they ain’t as strong as me, everyone can put up a fucking fight. But..I’m worried something’s going to happen to you. What if they put you on the front lines, or the villains manage to get free and end up hurting you? Taking you? What then? What if…I can’t protect you?”

You frowned hearing his worries, and at some point during the confession, took his hand. But your frown slowly turned into a soft smile, and you ran your thumb across his knuckles in an attempt too soothe him. “Kats… do you remember what you said when you confessed to me?”

He snorted, “Of course I fucking remember. I said ‘go out with me you damn nerd, it’s getting cold out here.’” You shook your head, nudging him with your shoulder. “Before that, dummy. You said-“ He cut you off “ I said ‘I’ve fucking liked you since the fitness test. I thought you were beautiful, capable, smart, and stronger than the rest of the extras in this goddamn school and if there’s anyone who can give me a run for my money to be the top hero, it’s you. And I think it’s still true’” He quoted himself, and you kissed his cheek, taking his face into your hands. “Exactly— you know I’m capable of protecting myself and putting up a fight. Trust me, I’m concerned as hell for you too, but I need you to focus on the mission and not me. I’ll be okay. We’re both gonna kick some villain ass and I promise once it’s all over I’ll be right back here laying next to you and watching that cheesy fucking all might movie you love so much.”

He growled, grabbing a pillow from behind him and gently whacking you with it. “It ain’t fucking cheesy! It’s classic fucking cinema”

You grabbed your own pillow and hit him back, giggling all the while. “Mmhm! Of course it is.”

“I’m serious Y/N!”

It was moments like this that kept Bakugo brave as the battle began. And it was moments like this that you both thought about as he took his dying breaths. He was so worried about protecting you, but you couldn’t protect him.

Pity.

——— —-

I have no remorse :) Anyways im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3

[prael]

Spectacle

Kinktember Day 11: Cuckquean

IVE Wonyoung and Liz x male reader smut

words: 6,118 Kinktember Masterlist

"I love you."

You love her too. That's a long-accepted fact, and you've told each other this a hundred times over. Sometimes it's casually told at the end of a phone call, sometimes it's in some romantic setting like when you're walking out on the promenade under the night sky, but in a way, these ones are the most honest.

It's a little bit special when those are the only words that come to her mind while she is cumming.

She's lying with her head against your neck, still shaking in pleasure. You would reply but you're so focused on grinding into her and you're so fucking close...

By this point, it's all become a little routine. Predictable, maybe. She gets home, you cook together, eat together, watch a film or TV show together, then one of you makes a move and... You get the picture. It's any old weekday.

So maybe this isn't what people would consider to be earth-shattering sex(fuck the critics) but she likes the feeling of your hips bucking and you spilling inside her. And you love the way she struggles for breath in between her moans before she does that same little squeal right before she cums.

These nights have all blurred a little into one. Tonight will become a little section on a page of many; a few lines that are not much more than a footnote.

Silence sets in once you untangle your limbs and lay beside her. Her head is pressed against your shoulder and the post-sex smell hangs in the air.

You look out your window over at the walled gardens on the other side of the river. It's as dull a sight to look at as always and there's hardly anyone out at this time but somehow you're content with looking at this view.

"So, do you think we should visit my dad sometime?" Liz asks out of the blue.

"I know I said I would think about it, but I was a little busy just now." You roll your head over to the side, sacrificing the river view for Liz's flush face. "What's this about?"

"Like I said, he's been asking." Her words trail off and she doesn't quite meet your eyes. She gives an awkward shrug of her bare shoulders, and then scoots over, snuggling up even closer. You give her back an appreciative squeeze.

"I can't do this weekend, busy remember? But we can go next week?"

Her hand stops circling your abdomen and she lifts her head from your shoulder to look at you. "Busy?" Her eyes dart around, searching your face for clues, but she just has to ask: "With?"

"My friend's birthday, I told you last week, and you said, and I quote, 'Okay babe, I'm meeting Wony this weekend anyway, have fun!'" You do your best-worst impression of her which earns you a jab of her fist in your side and a laugh.

"Oh... I'm always forgetting things."

"You work too hard." You cup her cheek and stretch your neck muscles to plant a kiss on her forehead. She coos and moves forward again, returning to her rightful spot snug on your shoulder. You slip your arm behind her back, and both of you lie there together in comfortable silence.

Liz moves her hand up from your stomach to your chest and starts circling her fingers over your skin. The touch is light and soft and very very deliberate.

"I have another question..." Liz eventually says, trailing off her sentence as though she's half lost in her own thought.

You bring your hand up to hers, hooking under her wandering finger and raising her hand, and then you lock your fingers between hers. "What is it? Something on your mind?"

"Am I good?"

"Good? Good person? Good cook? Good girlfriend? Good what?"

Liz laughs gently nuzzling into your body to hide her face and breathing hot breath over your skin. "Good... in bed."

"Oh thank god, I thought you were going to ask about your cooking and I'm not so great at the whole white lie thing."

She tries to punch you with the hand you're holding but you tighten your grip to stop her. "Not funny," she groans with a smile on her face.

She tries to turn her head into the pillow but you refuse to move or say anything until she looks at you. When she eventually peers up and matches your gaze you tell her, "You are the perfect girlfriend in every way," you tell her.

She exhales a short chuckle and raises an eyebrow. "Nice dodge," she tells you, unable to contain her laugh, and you laugh with her. "It's okay, I have a plan."

You pause, her words suddenly throwing you. "A plan for what?"

"You'll see."

She refuses to say anything more for the rest of the night, but she smiles at your puzzlement and laughs whenever you try to playfully nudge the subject. And you do notice that a slight smile seems to stick to her face all night, right up until she falls asleep.

***

Sunday evening transport is so hellishly unpredictable, so you're walking in the apartment door about an hour later than you planned, and about twice as stressed as you should be.

All of that washes away when you look at the girl who's been waiting for you to get home.

The scented (mostly melted) candles have been burning for a while and the smell of them fills the apartment. Not only has Liz picked out one of your favourite bottles of wine, but she's poured out a pair of glasses of it already, though they're both half-empty. And as you near it, the bottle is too.

"Hey, Liz."

"Finally! Welcome home," she says with a smile as broad as your confusion. "I've been waiting so long. So, so long." She's wearing a gown you don't recognise that's soft to touch when you hug her as she throws herself against you.

"Is this new?" you ask, touching at the silk hem.

"Of course it is," she answers quickly. "I was saving it, saving it until a special night. You know... Something special to break it out for."

She moves back in your arms, so she can have a better look at you, and she stares for just a few seconds before she leans back in, this time kissing you full on the lips. There's nothing soft about it. There's no hesitancy, and certainly no tenderness. This kiss is so firmly decided, so purposeful.

She purrs her words against your lips, "I've been giving it some thought, and, I know you would never say it, but I'm a little bit... vanilla, in the bedroom. And, I know, I know," she stops you with her fingers on your lips, shushing you with the tilt of her head and a flutter of her long lashes, "You wouldn't say anything because you love me too much and you're far too kind, but, this is for me too, okay? I want to be good, I want to try different things, exciting things, and this is the best way for me to learn."

"Liz. Liz. I've barely walked in the door and you're throwing this at me. I need a minute."

"No, don't think, we've been waiting so long for you already." Liz is pulling your arm toward the bedroom door. Her soft touch and your own burning curiosity have you willingly in tow.

"We?"

She's smiling the wildest of smiles over her shoulder as she pulls you along. Your heart beats a little harder in anticipation of what lies ahead, and even more at the look of sheer excitement and determination on her beautiful face.

You dropped your bag somewhere in the middle of the room but you hadn't even taken off your shoes before Liz is bundling you through the doorway.

"This is Wonyoung."

Why the fuck is there a girl in your bed?

"Wait. I know. It's weird right?" Liz sounds giddy, almost frantic. She bounces up to you and pulls on your arm until you stand right alongside her, peering down at the young woman in front of you. "You know Wonyoung, right?"

"Of course, I know one of your best friends, but why is she in our bed?" You turn and look at the girl lying there with a similar silk gown over her body, from her neck down to just below the knee. "Sorry, no offence, but I have no idea what's happening right now."

Wonyoung doesn't react but instead chooses that moment to rise. She is sitting with her hands folded on top of her legs. She tilts her head and examines you carefully, with an unmoving gaze that's almost more uncomfortable than the two of you hovering over her.

"It's fine." The deep smooth voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife. Her voice is as cool and calm as you expected, not that you're all that familiar with it, you have only met her a handful of times.

"Liz?" you ask, turning to her again.

"I want to watch. I'm going to watch," she blurts out her response before falling silent.

"What?"

Liz exhales softly, then draws in a steady breath, steeling herself, as her mouth curves in a trembling smile. "I was talking to Wonyoung, about... things. And, well, we were talking, and I guess maybe this idea just sort of popped into our heads. I couldn't just dismiss it. And I've had this fantasy. And well Wonyoung, it's been a while. And you, I want you to. And I can learn." Liz is talking far too quickly and doesn't finish a single sentence she starts.

"What she is trying to say," Wonyoung cuts in with her voice sharp and full of cold steel. "Is that we have come to a mutually beneficial agreement."

"Arrangement." Liz chimes in with the correction.

"That I will," her eyes drift, flickering and moving over both of you, "join you both, for a while, in a few different ways. What Liz is trying to explain is that, well, to be frank, it's been a while for me and I would appreciate some good sex. As for Liz here... It just so happens she has a bit of a fantasy about this whole thing too."

"Yeah, exactly." Liz cups your cheeks and kisses you gently. "It's completely up to you, of course." Her hands rest at the back of your neck and she closes her eyes, resting her forehead against yours. "I love you."

Your hands are hanging idly by your waist. This woman sits on your bed and your girlfriend clings to you, asking you to fuck her. 

"Okay." A single word while your heart is beating hard with anticipation. You reach to Liz's waist and pull her flush against you and plant your lips against her soft supple skin.

She giggles with delight and puts a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze up. "So... We're really going to do this, huh?" Liz leans in, eyes flickering over your own as you exchange a final look. You feel her warm breath just a moment before the warm touch of her lips, pressing against yours, melting your resistance and hesitation, while sending warmth through you, easing you into acceptance, as the idea begins to cement itself in your thoughts.

There's a rustle of sheets as Wonyoung climbs up behind you and presses herself against you. "You're already late," she whispers behind you. "Don't make me wait any longer."

Liz leans away and her delicate fingers ease open your shirt, undoing each button in turn.

"Don't hold back. I want to see you give it to her." Liz takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "Please, babe." Then she takes a step back, towards the chair that you're just now realising had been moved from the corner of the room so it had a close view of the bed.

Wonyoung pulls your shirt from behind, dragging it over your shoulders and down your arms. She follows the fabric down your back with a series of gentle kisses over your spine. The light tickle and feel of her hair drag over your skin, as she tugs the shirt free of your wrists.

"Liz..." You look over to your girlfriend who is staring with a grin on her face. Her eyes follow every single movement that Wonyoung makes as if studying them, examining them, processing them.

Wonyoung tugs the shirt free of your wrists and discards it. Her hands immediately reach over your chest and drag downward, making no secret of the way that her little breasts under the silk push firmly, and delightfully, up against your back.

Her nails drag over your skin until she hits the waist of your trousers. Delicate fingers, so precise in their movement, make quick work of the belt buckle, the button, and the zip. All without pausing, all without hesitation.

Under the dim light of the evening, Wonyoung pushes your trousers, and underwear, free from your hips. Down, over your ass, dragging them down your thighs. The cool air passes over your body, and you look to Liz for affirmation.

She smiles and she nods, waiting for what comes next.

Naked, and vulnerable, you're standing before her with another woman wrapped over you. Wonyoung reaches around you with both hands, she takes one confident grip of your still-limp length, and her other hand just a little lower onto your balls.

Liz's eyes light up at the sight.

"Not hard yet. Nervous?" Wonyoung's question is a tease. Her voice, velvet and silky, is whispered into your ear. The smell of her perfume is subtle, but the floral, womanly scent is unmistakable. She moves her hand in a light grip over the base of your cock and moves it slowly, methodically, and without the urgency you might've expected.

"Maybe..."

Wonyoung releases a silent giggle against the skin at the back of your neck. "Just wait..."

You look at Liz and her hands clamp tight over her knees as her breathing visibly hastens, matching your own. Her attention is fully, single-mindedly, upon you, with you, but there is no doubt about where her thoughts and her emotions lie. She's excited. In the comfort of seeing that, so are you.

"There we go," Wonyoung whispers. Her hands work leisurely over you. And yet in no time at all, you're rising in her grip. Stiffening. Aching for more. Your focus is on the sight of the only woman you have ever cared for, but the feeling of someone else's hand on your cock as you watch her is as strange as it is exciting.

She massages with both hands, always rhythmic, always steady. "Liz, do you like to suck cock?" Her question comes out smooth, and refined but pointed.

Liz glances up at you briefly, then down between her knees. She gives her answer as a nod, looking a little timid as her hands tighten their grip even more and her nails start to press into her knees. "I like the way his body reacts to my tongue." She glances up once more with a satisfied smile.

"That's good. And he likes it too?"

"Yes," you both say it at the same time.

You shiver as Wonyoung plants a long trail of delicate, wet kisses over your neck. She draws back her hand and leaves you there, cock stiff in the air. She walks around you slowly, finally that pretty face of hers coming into view. Her dark brown hair falls over her shoulders, the locks blending into the black silk of her gown.

She places both of her hands on your chest and stares right at you, no ounce of shyness or reserve as her piercing eyes dig deep, threatening to carve a hole clean through you.

"See something you like?" she asks. "Liz, if he is so hungry looking at me now, can you imagine what his expression is going to be like once my robe is off?"

Wonyoung rests the tip of her tongue on her lower lip, using it to moisten the pillowy soft, glossy surface. Her fingers rake down your chest as she drops elegantly, slowly to her knees and smiles up at you with those shiny red lips.

"May I?" she asks.

You take in the sight of her, kneeling before you, her lips so teasingly close to your tip that each of her soft breaths kisses it. A lustful, indecent twinkle in her eye.

You force a glance over to Liz, to which Winyoung immediately reacts, "I'm asking you, not her."

And all of the reasons to hesitate are just evaporating.

"May I suck your cock?" she repeats. She remains perfectly, unnervingly, poised on her knees.

"Yes. Suck my cock, Wonyoung."

Your breath catches. Your whole body shudders as she runs the warm, wet flat of her tongue up the underside of your hardness. Her gaze never falters. Wonyoung purses her lips, before lowering herself in her elegant descent, and letting her tongue slide around you as she sinks into the first of many bobs of her head.

Liz shuffles forward on the edge of her chair.

Wonyoung takes you deep, so deep, without so much of a gag or splutter. Her dark, doll-like eyes stare straight ahead, as she swallows your cock with her luscious lips and warm mouth. The warm and wet envelopes you so wholly that you can't stop yourself from hissing a groan of approval and you feel her mouth tighten its grip with a devious grin.

Liz squeezes her bare legs together.

Wonyoung braces herself on your hip, wrapping the other hand around your thigh as she rises and sinks back down again, again, again. Each time she gets a little quicker, a little stronger.

It's so different to when Liz does it. She's normally so playful with her tongue, and she doesn't take a lot of it inside her, but Wonyoung seems to have this sole fixation on drawing you deep into her. The very back of her throat greets your sensitive tip.

The muffled moans that roll from her throat vibrate around your shaft, and her tongue eagerly rolls all over your every inch. Her deep breaths get heavier, and her suckling becomes sloppy and wet. You're getting weak at the knees.

Wonyoung finally releases you with a short gasp and looks up at you with glassy eyes, "Fuck," she groans out before spitting over your shaft.

She clasps her hand over the head and grips you tightly, stroking up and down the length.

You don't dare to tear your gaze from the stunning, lewd woman staring up at you.

"Tastes... Mmm. So good, so good." Wonyoung whines her praise out between kisses and flicks of her tongue on your tip.

Your hands twitch and the instinct to sink your fingers into her hair is a near-unstoppable urge. You gently thread your fingers into her long, silken tresses, and gently grip them. She lets out a satisfied gasp and then says to Liz, "Look at that. See how much he wants me?"

Your gaze shoots over to Liz. Her eyes are transfixed, focused on Wonyoung's tongue, wrapped around the head of your cock. Her breath shudders, then slows.

You pull Wonyoung's head down while staring at your girlfriend. If she wants a show, you'll give her one.

A quiet sound escapes her, and then a sharper inhale, but still she shows no sign of objection. On the contrary, the pleased hum that emanates from her mouth drives you wild. It encourages you. You rock your hips forward, slamming past her lips and prodding against her throat. Your lust swells alongside your confidence.

"Good girl." You know how much Liz likes it when you're the dominant one, she often teases you in conversation about how it's hot when you tell her what to do and you notice her breathing become hitched when you whisper dirty things in her ears.

Wonyoung says nothing but moans her appreciation and rewards your command by relaxing her throat and letting you use her.

For a while you use her, over and over until you're right on the edge, Liz looks practically ready to jump out of the chair, and when you check on Wonyoung, her face is a mess. Tears streaking, saliva dripping. She's taken every last drop of this beating with nothing but an overwhelming desire to serve you.

She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. The desperate submissiveness in her act brings you that step closer, "Cum, cum," she moans out between deep gulps of air. "Do it. Give it to me."

She's holding your cock in her fist and pumping it towards her face. With the first hot jet of cum, she cranes forward and takes it onto her eager tongue. She looks up at you as if urging you to keep going, to fill her pretty mouth.

Liz gasps audibly as you empty the contents of your balls into the sweet girl's waiting mouth. Wonyoung does nothing but accept what you're giving.

Your girlfriend just watched you blow a load into the mouth of her friend.

With each spurt into the soft, receptive touch of Wonyoung's inviting mouth, Liz squirms on her chair, her tongue playing on her lower lip.

"That's so hot," she strains to say through heavy breaths.

Wonyoung swallows all of it without instruction and then cleans you off in the same eager fashion that she sucked the load out of you.

"Hey Liz," Wonyoung croons in that smooth, velvety voice, while kissing along your thighs, her breathing quick and light on your damp skin. "You should have invited me sooner. I can think of a hundred ways to fuck this cock."

Wonyoung sweeps her damp hair from her face. She presses her forehead to your thigh, collecting herself. You can feel her taking deep breaths through her nose against the skin of your thigh.

"Show me."

At that, Wonyoung glances at Liz in genuine surprise.

"Show me all of those," Liz pauses, and takes a moment to collect her words. "All of those ways to fuck my man. Please show me."

"Okay, Liz, you just sit there and watch me fuck your man." Wonyoung's lips are sticky with your cum, glistening and tempting in the low light of the room, the remnants of your seed on her chin are even more provocative, as Wonyoung tilts her head and reveals a gorgeous neck and collarbone that draws your attention. "Well?" Wonyoung continues, extending her hand, "Help me up."

"Of course." You reach for her, eager and so, so ready. You pull her to her feet, and into a heated kiss, a little rougher than you should, but she doesn't mind. You lean down, slipping your hands around her thighs and then up to her ass, lifting her against your body.

Wonyoung squeals as you take three steps towards the bed, toss her over the edge, and then stand over her. Her gown has fallen open, framing her petite, naked body in the centre of your bed. It takes no time for her to move back, propping herself up on her elbows, and then giving her body a delicious stretch to emphasise her every feature. She sits there, spreading her legs, knees parted, showing you her bare, wet pussy, flushed and exposed.

"I want you over me so badly. Pushing my legs up over my head and fucking down into me. But not tonight. Tonight I'm going to show Liz how to ride a cock. Would you like that?" The lust in her dark eyes shines, not for you, not for Liz, but for the moment, the experience, the power that Wonyoung wields right now.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Good." Wonyoung raises herself, rising to her knees to look up at you, leaving a lingering, open-mouthed kiss on your lips before peeling the gown off of her shoulders.

In a small, feminine pile, it gathers on the floor. Then she flaunts herself, not so much in an exhibitionist way, though she certainly has every right to, but more of someone who enjoys being admired. It's not just because her body is fucking stunning, but it sells such a sinful promise of how good it's going to feel to fuck, and she knows it.

You hold her waist for that simple purpose. Hands over her narrow body, soft skin and toned muscles underneath. For her part, Wonyoung extends one delicate arm so that she may brush her index finger over your jaw, just making that familiar, if chilling, grazing over your skin. You slide your hand down between her legs and press a single finger inside her.

"Mmm. Don't be afraid," she purrs.

You stroke her smoothly. Two fingers, twisting them, delving into her as her insides react, tightening, dampening around your teasing invasion.

"Already getting me so worked up, and poor Liz over there is being so well-behaved."

"Hey!" Liz laughs playfully. Her playful laughter trails off when Wonyoung's voice lowers, and the erotic, needy sound in her tone builds.

"Lie down, let me show her how it's done. Look at me. Watch me."

Immediately, you melt away. Back to the bed, to the cool feeling of the sheets under your skin. The quiet anticipation, and the expectation. With languid grace, and without her body ever seeming to interrupt its soft, almost perfect curvature, Wonyoung climbs over you. She places one knee on the bed, then the other. A hand on your chest, then the other. The weight of her, what little there is, pressing you down until the moist heat from her lips finds your cock.

She presses your length flat against your body, the lips of her pussy holding it in a long kiss that she gradually eases over your shaft. Grinding back and forth, you watch as your cock disappears under her as she comes forward, only to drag herself back down against it.

"Feel that?" Wonyoung pants quietly.

"Uh-huh," you hum.

"Feel that warmth, that slickness sliding around you. Imagine what it's going to feel like inside, hmm?" She coaxes a twitch out of you as you do exactly as she says.

Her tight abs roll into you, followed by the press of her thighs. Hot and clasping. Higher, her bare chest bears a pair of hard nipples on her little perky tits. Higher still, her face twists in expressions of pleasure, the delight in her shining eyes, the rapture etched across her face. Her lips tremble as something threatens to escape, whether a whine, moan, exasperated breath or a request for something, she never vocalises the sound and it remains nothing more than a sensual promise of a good time ahead.

Wonyoung slows to a stop and throws her head forward, putting her hands on your shoulders. You place yours at her legs, watching her close her eyes, drawing her lower lip between her teeth.

"Feel how wet I am?" Wonyoung moves her hips in tight circles and she struggles to hold back her whimpers. Her warmth flows out of her and over you. "That's me, getting turned on at the thought of having this inside of me," she whispers. She rocks herself again, this time drawing out her whimper.

"God. Fuck..." You gasp and groan. You want this. Need it.

Wonyoung lifts and turns your cock until your head prods against her tight and needy pussy. She pauses to look to the side, her hair falling over her face but you can make out a grin, that very sly smile as she tilts her head towards your girlfriend, no doubt appreciating her breathless arousal.

"I'm going to ride your boyfriend's cock now. Cum all over his cock. Make him cum inside me. How does that feel?" Wonyoung moans softly, tipping her hips up, down, and over again, toying with the head. "Mmm, you like the sound of that, don't you?"

Liz is gripping the arms of her chair, not saying a thing. She just whines with agitation, kicks her feet out and stamps on the floor.

Then, Wonyoung gasps with relief. While your head was turned, Wonyoung surprised you by drawing the tip of your cock into her. You snap you're attention back to her as she settles around your cock. Where her throat was so accepting, her pussy is decisively not. It's so fucking tight that she struggles to take much of you in at first. Such small movements over the tip, tiny motions that rock her. And yet the sensation is something that could, and does, unravel you in an instant.

You're powerless to resist as she takes more and more of you into herself with each and every drive back down. Each little push, deeper inside, the further apart her thighs, and the deeper she descends, pushing herself, forcing herself, upon your cock.

You hold onto her ass, guiding her every bit of the way, rocking her rhythmically back and forth. Deeper, harder, tighter, she stretches, accommodating you until you reach as far as her tight walls will allow.

"You're gonna ruin this pussy." The sultry voice and the crude declaration cause another tremble out of you.

At that, she places both hands on either side of your head, palms flat on the sheet. Her pretty face is so close, just bobbing slightly as she fucks you. She pants heavily, her small, round breasts quiver and bounce up and down in front of your eyes.

She stays like that for a while, fucking herself on you, telling you all sorts of sweet nothings. "Gonna ride that thick cock. Love it so much, feel so fucking good." All the while, her perfectly tight ass is in your rough hands as you knead it and pull it wide.

Eventually, she throws herself back, breaking the intense stare, and making herself a spectacle again. She leans back, far back, her hand behind her for support, and gives both of you a show. Those slender thighs shake just enough to send you crazy each time she slaps them down against your waist. Her cute, shapely tits bouncing and jiggling.

"Fuck! Liz! You lucky girl! Mhm!" You're squeezing and palming her thighs roughly, fingers into flesh. Pulling her down hard, trying your damnedest to force her even tighter against you.

"Sfucking hot," A filthy compliment that is rewarded with another gasp of arousal and a short burst of bouncing as desperately fast as she can.

She slows to a crawl again. One leg moves off you, and then her hips swivel and the movement on your length is breathtaking. She's sideways on you now. One leg between yours, and the other stretched out over your body, her foot by your face.

Wonyoung is looking right at Liz now. "Watch me cum on your boyfriend's cock."

You're holding her by the leg she has over you, and you're using it as the leverage you need to buck into her while she works the lateral movement. The bed shakes and protests under your exertions. Wonyoung pulls her hands behind her neck, scooping up her hair and holding it up, so every inch of her body can be seen.

"Look. Look, Liz." Wonyoung lets out a guttural moan. A throaty, visceral noise of climax catching you off guard. You keep rolling your hips, taking in the way her body tenses and tightens and she trembles all over. "Cumming. On your. Boyfriend." She barely gets the words out as her head falls backwards and you can't take your eyes off of her, or the way she spasms on your lap.

She struggles to keep up the pace and rhythm but still tries her best, her resolve amid an orgasm is worthy of respect. You move her, this time, hands on her waist and twisting her so she faces away from you. She allows you and gasps in delight the moment you reposition her, her hands reaching for your thighs.

You continue the thrusts, with Wonyoung content now to take the punishment. You fuck her in a steady, thumping motion, the slap of skin against skin loud and ringing in the air. Her ass is marked red, compliments of the tight squeeze you had on it earlier. Her taut little cheeks bounce and shake each time you slam into her. Her own whiny moans and squeals mix and add a new melody to the atmosphere.

Wonyoung is nothing but moans now, one orgasm just cascaded into the next, and she shows no signs of stopping. Every now and then her sounds break through, becoming cries. Each time they do, you follow it up with a series of rapid slapping of hips. It's all you can do, just to keep yourself going, chasing that elusive climax that the three of you so desperately want.

Liz is fucking losing it. She's squeezing her thighs together. Grinding. Dancing in her chair. Her fingers, her knuckles, are white with strain as she holds onto the chair for dear life. She's making squeals and gasping moans too—she wants to cum so bad. It is as though her pussy is squeezing on nothing, you can imagine just how needy and wet she is. How painful it must feel, not being able to have that satisfaction that you can give Wonyoung.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Wonyoung wails out her climax with such intensity that it actually leaves her voice a little hoarse and you can't hold it anymore, you have to follow her lead. You have to cum.

So you do.

Wonyoung drags her nails across the skin of your legs as you reach that tipping point and pump a thick stream of semen into her. There is more and more, and she takes it all greedily as if there's no limit. As if she'll never be satisfied.

You let it all out, pump her full of hot, thick, semen. The release is enough that, for a while, you blank out the world. Nothing matters but the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

Consciousness returns with you lying limp on the bed. Your head rolls to one side and you struggle to stay focused. You gaze down past your feet where Wonyoung lies collapsed, the exact same way as yourself. Still, you watch, and try to keep focus, and you do because when Wonyoung awakes she lifts her head, a sheen of perspiration glistening and flowing in droplets from her dark, silky hair and down her face, streaking her skin and flowing over her red cheeks and flushed lips.

The combination of both exhaustion and arousal as Wonyoung catches her breath causes a wonderful sight before she meets your own exhausted gaze and that smile of hers, all pearly white and perfect and so damn alluring.

"Fuck! I have to! Fuck!" Liz is rampant now, her hand reaches in between her own legs and then her legs are spread apart and you can see her furiously fingering her own pussy, the motion of her whole arm trembling and shaking. Her pussy is wet, and gleaming. And the fingers in it move and dive deeply. "That was the hottest fucking thing... I need to... Cum..."

Wonyoung supports the side of her face up with her fist, a grin on her features as she watches the way Liz acts like she's going insane, out of her mind, she just needs the cum in the worst way, the urgency apparent from the way her fingers disappear, pumping into herself.

Wonyoung starts crawling up you, to rest on you, while transfixed on your girlfriend pumping herself into oblivion. "Oh, Liz, that is beautiful," her eyes light up as she comments, "Now imagine the feel of it... His cum leaking out of me right now. Because he fucked me and not you."

That's what sends Liz spiralling over the edge.

Liz's body twists, writhes, shudders and convulses in orgasm. It's almost hypnotic, her thighs squeeze together so hard that her hand must hurt, but she just goes on and on and on, never easing, and it leaves a hot, sticky mess all over the chair and her fingers. You watch as she rides those waves of blissful gratification, all over a set of digits that aren't nearly enough to satisfy, not even for a moment.

Wonyoung brings her lips close to your face, hot breath washes over you, and she whispers quietly into your ear, "She's going to want this again, you know? Look at her, you even seen her cum that hard?"

"No, I haven't."

"Then me and you? We're going to be having a lot of sex."

[lisired]

change your mind yet?

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol

summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).

word count: 4.6k

a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol

You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.

Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.

It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.

Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.

So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.

Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.

When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.

“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”

Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”

He shrugs, “Afterwards.”

You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.

So, Donghyuck cornered you.

There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.

“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”

“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”

Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.

“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.

“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”

You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”

“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”

God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.

“No.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”

“No,” you repeat.

You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.

“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.

He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.

Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.

You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.

This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.

Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.

“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”

He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.

So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.

This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—

Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”

You spoke too soon.

“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.

Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”

You sigh. “Where?”

He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.

A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.

After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.

Then he does exactly that.

“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”

You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.

You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”

You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.

“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.

So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”

You stand your ground. “No.”

“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.

Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”

“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”

“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”

“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”

You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”

“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”

You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.

In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.

Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.

Then, the timer chimes.

“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.

He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”

God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.

“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”

He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”

You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.

“On the bed,” he instructs.

You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.

Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.

“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”

“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.

He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.

Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”

“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.

Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”

“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.

“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”

Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.

Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”

Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.

Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.

There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”

Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.

His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”

Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.

So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.

“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”

“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”

If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.

Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.

“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.

Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.

He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”

You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.

He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”

That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.

That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.

“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.

He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.

His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”

“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”

“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?

“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”

“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”

“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”

Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.

“Yo, I just realized something.”

“What?”

Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”

Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.

[thebibliosphere]

I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?

I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.

I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.

We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.

If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.

Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.

They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.

And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.

The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.

So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.

That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.

Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.

They're not.

If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.

Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?

[svtcrus]

unlawful duties || neuvillette x fem!reader

a/n : Im going against myself and ended up writing this big crazy ass smut of neuvillette. I WANT HIM SO BADDDD

disclaimer : dom!neuvillette , extremely sexual descriptions, implications of bondage nd choking , office s3x , slight aftercare

"im sorry but the chief of justice is busy right now madam!"

"really.. monsieur neuvillette? agh are you sure?" the beautiful blonde lady who is well known as the president of the spina di rosula was pestering poor sedene. arguing with the unfortunate melusine whose trying to prevent her from entering. navia completely doubtful at how the chief of justice was busy. when all he does is "stay cooped up in his office, if he's not in his playhouse" she quotes.

and while the madamoiselle is not wrong in some aspects, this very chief was busy with a different case.

"be quiet darling, seems like miss navia is right outside." here you were bent over the desk that is scattered with piles of paperwork, the feeling of a slender gloved hand trailing along your bare back. lips bitten harshly to the point of them bleeding, holding back any noise.

however your efforts are in vain upon the force of another hand gripping onto your neck pulling you up. the feeling of neuvillette's hot breath lingering near your ear, your forced to listen to the inappropriate words of the monsieur himself.

"you wouldn't want her to hear how dirty your moans are now would she?" he licks your neck before his lips find your sweet spot, suckling on your skin making you whimper through red stained lips.

this man who withholds so much power of the nation of justice has you wrapped around his own finger. has you bent over his very desk moaning his name loud beneath him, and it's making him go insane.

he breaks his composure at the very sight of you, feeling his breath hitch as his eyes linger between those crystal eyes and your soft lips.

those same lips which he kisses feverishly as he pounds himself into you, concealing your loud cries which beg him for more.

neuvillette's stamina is unpredictable just as he is mysterious. he could go on for hours of him shoving himself into you sweet cunt that's swallowing him ever so well. your walls which squeeze him so tight as he's pushing you further onto his desk, the court papers now long gone amidst the floor. he simply cannot get enough of you.

the chief's clothes are loosened, his white scarf is now used as restraints for your dainty hands. his own two? they are feeling every crevice of your body up from behind. his hand kneads against the plump of your ass, boldly pushing it to see your wetness engulfing him. your slick intermingling with his as he enters and exits your swollen hole. he could see all his love marks tracing from your neck and along your shoulder line, the sight makes him swell.

neuvillette lets out a breathy hiss as he feels your velvet walls tighten around him once more.

"s-so dirty for me darling. not caring if we..- ahhh, get caught.." low growls are leaving his mouth, the sound of skin touching skin echoing amongst the office. the attempts of being quiet long gone. you're moaning, whining, begging, his honor for more.

"please monsieur..."

"please what my love? I need you to use your words sweetheart." two of his long fingers are shoved in between the plump of your lips, you can taste yourself. all while he pounds one more time with his obscene force, before halting. awaiting for you to beg for his cock for his own pleasure.

"harder-mmf! please.. fuck me!" immediately he's back in his feverish rhythm, snapping into you like it's his last time fucking you.

"profanity is forbidden here sweetheart." he manages to say through clenched teeth, both of his hands now gripping onto your hips harshly.

hah, proper etiquette? the fact that you and the chief of justice are performing such debauchery in his place of work? the mannerful thought was long gone in neuvillettes head the moment you had pushed his buttons. now he's enjoying every second of ramming into you in his open office, where someone could very much catch you two committing an unlawful act at any time.

neuvillettes's ego rises at the sight of your naked back is covered in his slick, his godly handsome face is blushed from his efforts. long silver locks disheveled, his bangs damp from sweat. your cunt is dripping cum onto his hardwood floors, oh how will he explain such a mess to sedene?

"ah.. is sex also forbid-" you gasp at the sudden action of him pushing one leg up onto his table, solely so he can push even more deeper into you.

he's hitting all the right spots inside, nudging against the part you need him most and it's driving you crazy. his length proves it all, and god is he so big. you can feel him pulse within you as you both find release. your lover grunts while his wet fingers begin to fondle your clit. motioning them in the way he knows to make you quiver. all while he's leaning down to kiss you, as his seed makes you feel so full.

you could feel the bruises beginning to form on your lower back, his length now long gone. your legs still shaking upon orgasm.

"I hate you..." you manage to say between heavy breaths, your hands are finally freed from his scarf.

your nakedness is replaced with warmth, his coat being draped over you as situate yourself. your lover is already back in his dress pants, and a buttoned up shirt. you glare at him once reality has struck your head. yet he only smiles at you as he begins to clean you up from his mess.

"are you pressing charges on me now after you begged for my cock so well?" neuvillette whispers, those purple orbs are looking down at you. displaying how much lust he still has in him.

blushing at his sudden remark, he lets out a low chuckle.

"you love me sweetheart, lying is a crime you know?"

@svtcrus || 08.16.2023

©️ all rights reserved. do not copy / plagiarize my work.

[prosciuttulipa]

Period Pain, Go Away

how the JJK men help you through your period

content: afab reader x jjk men, just fluff this time! brief dirty joke in Toji's one (because he's Toji), but every one of them is a good boi in their own way <33

a/n: on my period and am in much pain v_v i can't decide who i want to comfort me, so i'm writing for all of the men i want

Gojo Satoru who isn't just your boyfriend during your period, but a "girl's girl". He wants to spoil you with desserts and eat the leftovers that you can't finish, do face masks with those cute cucumber slices over the eyes. You want a bath? He's already drawing one, dunking in bath bombs till the water looks like a small galaxy, putting on your comfort show so you can watch it while you soak.

Dealing with pain through fun and smiles has always been his way of coping. So, yes—maybe he does look a bit silly, gossiping with you while you paint sparkles onto his nails, his hair tied up with a pink scrunchie. But what's a boyfriend for, if not to be your Ken doll during your time of need?

It hurts him more than he likes to admit, to see you wince at a bad cramp, or come out of the bathroom with the colour drained from your cheeks. When you can't manage anything more than lying in your bed, he'll rest his head against your stomach, peppering kisses wherever it hurts. "Be good to my girl," he'll jokingly threaten your uterus, poking your tummy gently, "she deserves the world."

Geto Suguru who knows your period is coming before you do. Your irritable mood and food cravings clue him in, and he takes action without saying a single word.

The day your period starts, you realise that the feminine products you usually use have been fully restocked without your notice. The fridge is filled with your period cravings, enough to last a week. Before you can even say anything, a large hand wraps around your waist and presses a hot water bottle against your abdomen. "Good morning, princess," he greets you like he hasn't just pulled off what can only be described as a small miracle, "is everything to your liking?"

You don't know whether to laugh or cry at how perfectly he's predicted you. He's a step ahead of you throughout your entire period, knowing which snack or act of affection you want just by your expression. Some might call his behaviour unreasonable; frankly, he thinks it's bullshit. "Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer," is what he quotes, when you ask him why he's so observant. "What makes you think I do not absolutely and utterly worship you?"

Nanami Kento who is obviously written by a woman, and so does not flinch when he sees the blood on the bedsheets when he wakes up earlier than you. Instead, he kisses you good morning till you're giggling, distracting you so you don't get a chance to see the stains. He changes the sheets while you're in the bathroom, throwing them in with the rest of the laundry. When you come back out, worrying you dirtied the bed, he merely shrugs. "I didn't see anything, darling."

He treats you like a queen on the daily, but during your period, you're his empress. Each word is law, each action his cue to immediately come to your aid. He'll cook every meal, and won't let you hold the spoon to feed yourself if he can help it. As far as he can see, your only responsibility this week is to lounge around, and let him spoil you rotten.

He thinks it's a crime that you still have to go to work, when you have to pop painkillers with your breakfast just to make it through the day. "I can take care of you, you know," he'll inevitably murmur, kissing the shell of your ear, "I make enough money to support us both. Take the day off, dearest. They don't need you more than I do."

Toji Fushiguro who manages to piss you off on the first day of your period. "What size pussy you wear?" he calls to ask, when he's picking up your feminine products at the corner store, "gotta make sure I take care of that kitty for all the squeezin' she does on me."

When he gets back home and finishes getting an earful on how you're more than just his pocket pussy, he apologises by scooping you up in his arms. "You know you're more than just a good fuck, doll," his words carry a rare sort of honesty, coming from him. "You're a good woman. My woman. Gun's in the second drawer, sweetheart—shoot me if I ever do wrong by you."

His touches turn softer, the smack to your ass replaced with a squeeze on the hip, kisses on your shoulders. He's got a hand on you at all times, just rubbing idle circles against your stomach or lower back to soothe your cramps. When bedtime comes, he makes you lay on your tummy, massaging away the tension in your muscles until you're all nice and pliant. He may not always know what to say, but he'll be damned if his actions make you feel like he doesn't love you.

[ajbullet]

My thoughts on episode 5 of PJO: spoilers (less points but more info on those points because OMGS)

-Annabeth knowing Percy is still alive when even Grover HIS PROTECTER wasn’t sure

-THE HUG! THE HUG! It wasn’t some awkward oh we have to hug in this scene thing like Leah went for that hug. Gripping his shirt, closed eyes, relieved sigh and all

- The fates were so cool to see. It was funny seeing just three old ladies in the mix of all the other people

- Percy being in shock the entire first part of the quest and now finally asking the important questions and feeling a tad overwhelmed. Such a realistic, delayed reaction to everything to has happened

- Ares. Not what I imagined, but bought into him eventually. It was a cool take on his character

- Not their heads popping up from behind that cement thing like whack-a-moles. Especially Annabeth

- Persassy and Sassabeth were not having it with Ares’ shit. Sassabeth came out of the gate swinging

- Grover staying behind????

- Oh my gods my percabeth heart was filled to the brim. I was on the edge of my seat for their every line to each other. I was INVESTED

- Annabeth hasn’t seen a single movie?? But why does that fit her character so well??? Post credit scene of episode 8 her and Percy movie date please?????

- WHAT IS LOVE BABY DONT HURT ME

- Not Percy using his powers for the FIRST TIME to save Annabeth’s life

- My girl is slaying with her braids and her tears. Love it

- “You’re better that this than me. You know it.”

- SHE. FUCKING. SAID. THE. THING. Where were you when Annabeth said Seaweed Brain for the first time? I was on my couch, crying and screaming and audibly gasping. Almost choked on my own spit (yes that information was necessary)

- He sacrificed himself for her again

- “I’m not leaving the Underworld without your mom” “I was gonna say come free me after the quest” Forgot the exact quotes but omg they know each other so well already

- Annabeth has come so far already. She sees the twisted, manipulative ways of the gods and unseats of accepting it and continuing it and ignoring it, she actively tries to put an end to it. Her friend isn’t “that way.” She is wise enough to know that she once was that way but wants to change. She is the best character not because she is perfect, but because she sees, acknowledges, and accepts her flaws and actively seeks to better herself. Every award to Leah im serious

- “Thanks for the emotional abuse and cheeseburgers” me to my parents 🫣

There’s so much more I want to expand on and point out and talk about but im probably just gonna make separate mini posts. Guys this episode was EVERYTHING

[solbaby7]

Make You Feel Something

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: sexual tension, some anxious themes, probably typos, some swearing, and two best friends—they might kiss

summary: You paint a certain Shadowsinger like one of those French girls

[ inspired by that quote “Art isn’t supposed to be perfect, it’s supposed to make you feel something.]

—

“Just stay still.”

“I don’t know—I feel like I’m not doing this right.”

You sigh, a soft smile stretching across your features watching Azriel attempt to stop his fidgeting. “You’re doing perfect, just get comfortable and lay there—I’ll do the rest.”

The paper was thick, a little yellowed but the charcoal in your hand seems to enjoy such conditions. Your back settles into the plush cushions on the couch, a throw pillow tucked against your thighs and every now and then you glance over the sketchbook to peer over at the partially bared body before you. “What’s this for anyway?”

“Practice,” You mumble, clearly distracted when roughly outlining the shape of him, the throne of a seat he was splayed over, shirtless with his fighting leathers hanging dangerously low on his hips and large wings shuffled behind him. “Why are you so nervous? You’ve been shirtless around me a million times.”

His left arm shifts again before you can draw the outline of it. “No one’s ever painted me before.”

“Technically, I haven’t gotten to the painting part yet. This will eventually become my reference photo for that.” The words don’t soothe him how you’d hoped and after a while Az is moving enough to have you settling down the charcoal, eyes sliding to his own. “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know where to put my hands.” The shadowsinger sheepishly admits, looking more boyish than you’d seen him in centuries. Dark hair falls over his forehead and judging by the neat lines along the perimeter of his head, Az had recently gotten a haircut.

He attempts to hide his hands, tucking them behind his head or shoving them under pillow until you make a move to shuffle off the couch and finally it all makes sense. The fidgeting wasn’t because your best friend laid half-naked before you but the creeping insecurity of his scars ruining the final product. “Lay like this,” Azriel’s like putty in your grasp, malleable and easy to guide when you shift one leg to casually drape over the arm rest. He’s at a bit of an angle but the way you position him gives off attractive arrogance, effortless masculinity mixed with a boyish charm. “They’re beautiful,” Your voice is filled with uncapped love, lips soft when you take both of his hands in your own and press a kiss on the back of each. “Art isn’t supposed to be perfect—it’s supposed to make you feel something.”

Hazel eyes take you in, memorizing the slight furrow of your brow as you make a few final adjustments; his hands on full display while you mumble under your breath, something about the lighting and your nose scrunches a little when his shadows tickle at your cheeks. “What do they make you feel?”

There’s a brief pause and you can’t make eye contact for a few seconds, fearful that if you did your resolve would break and you’d be too busy trying to take his clothes off to worry about the poor beginnings of your drawing. “I couldn’t tell you honestly without ruining our friendship,” His brow quirks, throat bobbing with a gulp. “—but if I didn’t like them I wouldn’t have asked you to model for me.” Relief spreads when a smile tugs at his mouth, head dipping down to hide the warmth that blooms at his cheeks when you waggle your brows at him. He’s much more relaxed when you return to your seat, a slow breath releasing from you as you twist your neck, fingers gripping around the charcoal once more and Azriel can’t seem to take his sights away from you.

Painted toes wiggle softly at the edge of the cushions, bare knees drawn up and your hair is gathered in a ponytail. You hum when you focus, some song Azriel’s never heard of before seeming to aid in alleviating the self-consciousness and pleasantly distracting his brain. Five minutes turn into ten, then fifteen before Azriel breaks the silence, being sure to keep his body exactly as you’d placed it. “What’s that song?”

“Not sure,” His body was an artists dream, all hard lines and alarmingly perfect symmetry; the golden light casting through the room, scattering moody shadows along the angles of Az’s face and your thighs clench slightly when you’re forced to pay such close attention to the plush curve of his mouth. “My mom used to sing it when I was really little—can’t remember all of it but it calms me down.”

“You’ve seen me shirtless a million times, what’s there to be nervous about?” Your eyes roll at his harmless teasing, huffing at the way he’d thrown your words back at you and it’s become increasingly harder than you make it look to get a fucking grip on your body’s reaction to him.

The response is instinctual, fingers rubbing the page to soften edges and your brain wanders to what it would be like for real. “You’re not exactly hard on the eyes and I’m not used to having a reason for examining your body for this long.” The warmth of his skin beneath your hands. The free will to travel the contours of his muscles and kiss each and every scar, ripple and divot formed by countless hours of training and dedication. He’s easy to draw when you spend so much time oggling, bottom lip caught between your teeth when mimicking the lines of his abdomen, the inky trail of hair that disappeared beneath dark grey fabric. “It’s truly annoying how perfect you are—could probably get some sort of sexual gratification from how satisfying it is to draw you.”

There’s no room for embarrassment when Az is so easy-going, the same laugh you’d always yearned for pulling from his throat and you have to swat away a few creeping shadows from sneaking a peek before the final result. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“It’s true,” The fireplace crackles behind you, a warm glow filling the room and kissing at the exposed skin of the model before you. Sharp jaw, soft smile; the hard line of his brows smoothed out by the light in his eyes—like sweet honey and sunshine. “I’ve never once drawn someone like you.”

“I’d hope not.” Azriel’s head tilts just a little, brows furrowed in thought. “Who else do you ask to get half-naked for the sake of practice?”

He’s fully aware of how it sounds—the jealousy lacing his tongue and you have to pull your hands away from the paper a moment before the slight tremble threatened to ruin the flow of the strands of hair you’d been steadily shaping around his head. “Not many seeing as I usually prefer painting models that are nude. I figured for the sake of our friendship I’d spare you.”

“Spare me?” He scoffs in a way that reminds you of Rhys, a little cocky and entirely too confident. “I’m not sure your heart would’ve taken seeing me nude. Certainly, it was me doing you the favor keeping the rest of my clothes on.”

Azriel’s skin goes hot at your lack of response, gaze sliding thoroughly over the length of his body from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes and a slow smile appears. “You sound awfully confident,” You shift in place, adjusting your legs and stretching out to see him better. “Take it off then.”

His mouth parts, words caught in his throat for a few beats of time before letting out a breath. His hands hesitate before untying the leathers and shimmying them down his thighs. There’s no hiding the desire that clouds your vision when taking in the simple black material that held snug against his cock. His thumbs hook in the waistband, shoving them down and tossing them aside.

It’s not the most simple task to tweak at the preexisting sketch, snuffing out dark lines and fading them into the background enough to make it easier to map out the thick lines of his thighs and calves—the generous length hanging confidently between it all. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually do it.”

“Should I not have? Are you uncomfortable?”

Your head shakes in denial, brows furrowed in focus and Azriel can’t place how it feels to be looked at as a specimen rather than a person. Your gaze is admirably respectful, quick glances with your tongue peeking through when perfecting soft lines and adding shading here and there. “Believe it or not, I couldn’t be more relaxed.”

He believes it too, your heartbeat is steady and controlled, limbs perfectly lax and Azriel is more than grateful for the view when you’re all laid out; sleep clothes shifting with each move and desire burns in his belly when you flick your ponytail off your shoulder, exposing the curve of your neck. “Where do you plan on putting this?”

“Nowhere, it’s private.” For viewing pleasure only, for those late nights when picking up a random male from Rita’s didn’t quite scratch the itch. “Once the painting is finished I’ll give it to you and keep the sketch for my portfolio.” You move on to his wings, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth when you slide from the cushions, bare toes sinking into the throw rug when you stand before him. “Can you put those up higher?” Azriel complies with ease, craning his wings higher but the furrow of your brow doesn’t subside. “Spread them a little.” Your head shakes when he moves and you reach up, fingers millimeters away before glancing down at him. “May I touch?”

He should’ve said no—maintaining some sort of boundary because drawing him naked was one thing but standing before him asking to touch; all the resolve in the world wouldn’t be able to save him. Azriel’s mouth opens, intent on saying no but by some sick sense of self-indulgence he nods in agreement, eyes fluttering shut when the scent of your shampoo enters his space. Warm skin grazes his own and while the shadowsinger is a tense mess beneath you, you’re the picture of serinity, completely in your element when carefully adjusting the membranous wings how you pleased. He tries to hold it back but your hands are so soft and the rough groan that fills the silence has goosebumps raising.

“You can feel all of that?”

Azriel traces a finger up the outer side of your thigh, pausing at the hem of your shorts. “Can you feel that?”

“Right, stupid question.” Maybe you linger longer than necessary, tracing over a texture you’d never felt before; not leathery, softer than that but just as sturdy. Warm to the touch and they shudder when you smooth over the thin seam at top that fused everything together. “They’re beautiful.”

“I’m flattered, really,” His voice is strained, hands clenched in tight fists and when you glance down past inky strands, his cock is standing at attention against his stomach. “—but I think you’re overestimating my self-control.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Not unless you asked me to.”

The swallow you force down is audible, hands shaky when you tuck them back at your sides but you don’t make a move to step away this time. Instead, you stand before him, fingers coated in charcoal and there’s a little smeared at your collarbone. His hand is up and touching before common sense can deter him; pure fire burns beneath each fleeting touch, knuckles grazing at the curve of your jaw and there’s no hiding the rising beat of your heart when he wipes your skin clean. “Thanks.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” His head falls back, words low and barely contained. The hands he pulls away keep drawing back like a magnet, touching greedily at the sides of your thighs and stopping at your waist. “I’m supposed to be helping you and my thoughts are not very helpful.”

Years of denying himself the simple pleasure of touch and the powerhouse of a male on the battlefield is reduced to a simpering baby, grappling for more touch, more of your silky clothes shifting against his skin and the sweet smell of vanilla and cocoa, sugar cookies and warm milk filling his nose when he pulled you in closer. Better judgement makes you wonder if you should pull away, find a way to comfort him and keep it friendly but the more distance that closes between you the more of that hard length you begin to feel against you. “Az—“ He doesn’t let the warning fully come to life, hands twisting behind the back of your knees until you’re sat above him, resting on bare thighs and your hands brace at his shoulders.

“I know,” Azriel repeats it over and over under his breath, face buried in the dip of your throat, mouth grazing at the sensitive skin there and the little whimper he draws from you has that hard cock between you twitching against your stomach. “I thought I could handle it but you just feel so fucking good.”

It was wrong.

So fucking wrong.

Shit like this never ended well; mixing fucking and friendship but while you kept thinking no your body stubbornly arched into his touch. You bared more of your throat to him when he buries his nose there, taking in your smell while he memorized the feel of you. The slope of your shoulders, the flare of your ribs and the soft curve of your stomach. You grind onto him, searching for more friction when Azriel follows the length of your legs down then up to cup the fat of your ass. “Take it off.”

You feel weak; too captivated to acknowledge your backbone when you tug the shirt from your head and throw it somewhere behind you. His mouth is insatiable when pressing kisses to every inch of exposed flesh, holding you closer with each breathy moan and whispered plea for more, more, more. Nothing could’ve prepared you for his mouth finally slotting over your own.

Azriel’s careful now, slow and attentive, maintaining a pace as you got to know one another in ways you’d only thought about when you’d snuffed out the fire for the night and shuffled under the covers, fingers hiked up your nightgown for a few minutes of uninterrupted pleasure. He groans into your mouth when tongues touch, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.

You hand slides between the two of you, wrapping around the stiff length of him and the moan he lets out has him sinking back into the chair. Preening under the attention you continue, gaze locked on the half-lidded hazel eyes before you, his arms flexing at his sides, hands holding onto your thighs for stability because your hands were so soft, holding him so firmly and the steady drags up and down was enough to have his thoughts muddled and hips bucking up into your touch. Swears spill from his mouth like prayers, pleading and begging for you to keep going and watching him crumble beneath you was a greater high than any smokes or powders. “Feels so fucking good.”

“You look good under me,” Draped across a throne like some entitled High Lord finally receiving his birthweight as promised. “You close already?” Azriel’s cock throbs in your hands, pre-cum oozing from his slit and the thumb that curls to swipe over it is torturous. “Poor Illyrian baby—I’ve barely even touched you yet.” A cruel laugh accompanies the choppy breaths and hazel eyes kept falling victim to the backs of his lids. “The High Lords spymaster. The feared Shadowsinger. A great warrior with seven Syphons to hold onto all that power and here you are,” Your pace speeds up, pure feminine satisfaction building when watching such manly power submit beneath a woman. “—falling apart just for me.”

You feel his release coating your palm and you use it for better slip when you keep going, riding out his pleasure until he’s pulling your hands away, chest heaving.

He watches you slip from his lap while he catches his breath, catching a towel tossed his way for the mess. “Clean up for me, I need to finish this before the lanterns burn out.”

Azriel doesn’t listen though, rising from the throne and clearing the distance between you in no more than three steps and his mouth is right back on your own.

Fuck it, some of the best art was left unfinished anyway.

[lizthewriter]

you make everyone disappear / theo nott

PAIRING  theodore nott x reader

SUMMARY you were lively and blooming with life. he was quiet and teeming with tragedy. it was a match made in heaven. theodore nott takes you on your first fake date and you find yourself enjoying it much more than you thought you would. part 3 of the get him back! series PART 1 PART 2

QUOTE  "see you in the dark, / all eyes on me, your magician, / all eyes on us, / you make everyone disappear and," - so it goes... by taylor swift

WORD COUNT  1.6K

WRITTEN  6.5.2024

the door slammed in your faces and you were left unbearably close to theodore. you didn't know what to say - i mean, you knew you had to make it look as though you really were dating, but you didn't expect him to go to such an extreme. "you did really good with the flowers. very believably," you said in a rather constrained tone. part of you had been flattered by such a gorgeous bouquet, but the other half of you knew it was all for show. why did you feel so sad?

"oh, you're welcome," nott responded, his expression oddly frozen, as though a realization had set in. he failed to remember that you still saw all his actions as fake when in reality, they were more real than you would come to realize for a while. this was going to be harder than he thought. "i picked out a restaurant i think you'll find rather pleasing."

theodore held out his hand towards you, gesturing for you to hold it. those deep, dark eyes yet again drilled into your head. you couldn't help but slide your fingers through his, however ignoring how fast your chest suddenly began to beat. you were just nervous, that was all, you told yourself.

he led you downstairs, out of the dorming building - you earned shocked stares from one of your classmates who was working the front desk that night. you smiled softly as he grabbed his phone and furiously begin to type. soon enough, this would be the talk amongst most of the students in your year, and mattheo wouldn't be able to get away from the gossip about you and theodore.

as you passed people walking into the dorm, you leaned your head against theo's arm and let out a content sigh. theo tensed at your sudden closeness, his face turning red, his thoughts dissolving into nothing but broken words. gods you're so in love with her, but you need to get a grip, nott.

considering your university was rather close to the city streets, filled with restaurants and places to go, you would have thought you were walking. you were shocked to see a *limousine* parked *outside your dormitory* with the driver *opening the door for you both.* theodore smirked at your shocked expression.

"come along, my darling," he said, pulling you with him towards the limo. you followed him in hazy awe, mouth still wide open. you entered the limo after him and the driver closed the door for the both of you. holy shit was this fancy.

-

the restaurant he had taken a reservation was in the high end of town - you couldn't *imagine* seeing anyone else but perhaps a few of his friends here, because as you glanced at the menus a waiter was carrying around at the entrance, you were sure you saw some fancy steak prices for upward of $200.

"ah, mr. nott. we've had your reservation prepared for the last half hour. please, follow me."

theodore's hand was still firmly in your own. you wondered why nott had chosen such a place - it was very fancy and if they wanted mattheo to be bombarded with whispers of your new relationship, they certainly wouldn't originate in a place none of your classmates would find you. so why - oh. you saw him. in the corner. with that girl.

so that was why - he must have known.

"theo, what kind of beverages do they have here?" you asked loudly, pulling on his arm, wearing a pout on your face. you ignored how mattheo turned away from his girlfriend and stared at you. you had used his old nickname on purpose, of course.

theo intertwined your arms, pulling you closer to him and leaned down so his breath tickled the hair on the back of your neck. "whatever beverages you'd like, my love."

you felt your face dissolve into a deep red. why was he standing so close to you? why did he whisper like that in such a low tone to you? you couldn't seem to form words, unable to understand why you were acting this way - of course he was doing that, all to be convincing. stop deluding yourself into thinking he likes you. besides, you barely know him. and what you do know is that so far, he's only annoyed the hell out of you so why are you feeling like this?

"here you are, mr. nott," the waiter said politely, holding open the door to a rather empty room. as you entered, you found it to be a luxurious dining hall with oak walls and golden garnishes. it was entirely empty, sparing one table at the center of the room set up for two. fancy linen draped the table, expensive china sat at each placemat, and a bottle of moscato was already bathing in a sea of ice cubes. how had he known your favorite drink?

"please, sit," theo said, rushing forward to pull out your chair.

"oh!" you exclaimed, your face still rather warm. he pushed in your chair as you sat down and joined you at the opposite end of the table. he glanced towards the waiter. "thank you for setting this up - please allow us ten minutes to read through the menu before ordering, alfred."

"of course, mr. nott." the waiter left promptly.

-

theodore couldn't discern reaction. were you pleased, were you uncomfortable? perhaps he should have told you in advance where he was taking you. or maybe he should have asked? he was about to spiral into only a world of anxiety when he heard a loud pop! you had opened the bottle of moscato and began to pour a moderate amount for the both of you.

"you like moscato?" you asked him, taking a sip from your class and smiling softly as you savored the taste.

honestly, he preferred more musky liquor, like whiskey, but he didn't mind the taste of something more fruity. he only nodded on response and took a small sip from his own glass.

"why is this room so empty? do they not have enough patrons to fill the restaurant?" you asked casually, slipping your finger under one of the menu pages and flipping it open.

"oh no, i just reserved the entire room for the next two hours." he didn't understand why you looked at him with such a shocked expression. did that displease you? he thought you would like the privacy a bit more . . . and it would be easier to talk without the combination of other voices in the room.

"theodore - that must have been insanely expensive," you told him, guilty eyes darting towards the menu and then back to him.

"oh no, please don't feel like this was anything of an expense. it is but a speck in the vast desert of my father's fortune. please, order whatever you'd like," he assured you. he watched as you bit back a smile, pulling the menu towards you and glancing down at it. "and please . . . call me theo. only my father calls me theodore."

"okay, theo . . . i suppose we should take this time to get to know each other better." you had a wide, mischievous grin spread across your face. he rolled his eyes playfully, knowing you were going to be highly amused with yourself during this interrogation. he gestured for you to go ahead. "first off, what are you majoring in and why?"

"i'm majoring in mediteranean history. i've always appreciated many different subjects: philosophy, psychology, sciences, criminology, but history had always been my favorite. i hope to work in a museum one day," he explained to you, all quite truthfully. he raised the glass to his lips once more.

"you don't want to go into fashion, like your father?"

he tensed at your question, his hand holding the glass still, the rim still resting upon his dark lips. him and his father . . . their relationship was complicated. once his mother died, his father had no love left for him.  he had never had what most other children had - caring, compassionate parents. no his father was only further angered upon hearing about theo's passion in history. you're no greater than a starving artist. you must as well be the speck of dirt on the bottom of my glorious shoes.

"no, fashion is quite boring, in my opinion. my father would prefer i take over the buisness once he retires but he had to digress once he realized i didn't want too." his tone was dismissive - he wanted to move on to another subject. you took this to mean he was upset with you, didn't enjoy speaking with you, and didn't want to be here. you slumped in your chair.

upon noticing your sudden lack of interest, he leaned forward and tried to engage with you in a softer tone. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to come off as rude - my father and i have a strained relationship. it tires me just speaking of it. you can ask me more questions, i don't mind."

you sat foward, scrutinizing his expression. he tried to look as assuring as possible - you suddenly sat forward with that wide grin of your again and began to interrogate him. his favorite color? green. his favorite novel? pride & prejudice, he revealed, quite ashamedly. his favorite movie? gone with the wind. you went back and forth - any question you asked, he asked you in return. it wasn't long before you found yourselves deep in conversation, laughing over newly-made inside jokes, debating over controversial topics.

you were lively and blooming with life. he was quiet and teeming with tragedy. it was a match made in heaven.

TAGS @rosieandthethorns @thaliasworld96 @lovelyygirl8 @moony-artemis @thesecretmansion @thecraziestcrayon @amongemeraldclouds @readingthingsonhere @darkenwolfie @jaxyy219 @empath-bunny @always-reading @xmadigurlx @mypolicemanharryyy @prettyb1tchsblog @hoeforvinniehackerrr @luckylzclerc @pandalovingcats @theyb @annaisabookworm @starsval @niktwazny303 @starsfortaylor @jetblackpayne @gillyweeds @alwayslatetothefandoms @simp-for-fantasy

[g0dlyunsub]

favorite addiction.

you’re addicted to cigarettes, spencer’s addicted to you. he finds a way to help you through your withdrawal.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: mentions of cigarettes and withdrawal symptoms, light makeout sesh at the end

word count :: 1.1k

author’s note :: thank you to @ellamaianderson for the original request! i also used actual quotes from a cm episode, iykyk :) + this is set in spencer's apartment

accompanying song :: antidote by orion sun

“what’s wrong?”

you turn to see your boyfriend, who’s looking at you with perturbed eyes and furrowed brows. he sits on the couch, extending his legs and resting with his hands behind his head.

“uh, nothing?” you return, lightly drumming the table with your pen. if spencer can hear through your seething lie, he doesn’t mention it.

everything feels wrong. your mind feels like it’s about to combust, and your fingers twitch as you rummage under the stack of papers at the side of your – or rather, spencer’s – desk. 

your coworker’s email was giving you an especially hard time, since he requested a last minute change to the company’s budget reports a minute before midnight. you sigh as you continue to let your fingers hastily surf through the pile, only to stop when you don’t encounter the familiar casing.

“are you looking for this?” you hear spencer clear his throat.

you swallow and shift your body to face him. he’s waving your cigarette pack almost tauntingly, shaking it left and right with a cheesy grin. you sigh as you try to piece together a mental simulation for how your pack moved from your desk to his hand; you could’ve sworn it was underneath your papers just five minutes ago. but that doesn’t matter. the tip of your tongue tingles with an urgent desire to be satiated with a puff of smoke. you need one so desperately.

you walk over to the couch and lay your hand out flat in front of spencer’s face.

“alright, give me that, spence.”

surprisingly, he lets you have it. he gently places the pack on the palm of your hand, watching with anticipating eyes to see your next move.

rolling your eyes, you turn the flap of the box, only to see it’s completely empty. you look to see the culprit staring back at you with wide eyes and an apologetic smile. it’s hard to get mad when he’s looking at you so sweetly, like he’s marveling at you.

“spencer? what did you do with… all of them?” you ask at last, surveying the room for any signs of your lost cigarettes.

silence courses through the entire room until spencer stands. your boyfriend looms over you, and with the room’s gold light swimming between the strands of his hair and his eyelashes, he looks ridiculously handsome. 

“y/n, a cigarette takes–”

“six minutes off my life. i know, spence,” you interrupt.

“it’s six minutes less that i get to spend with you,” spencer continues.

spencer and his pretty words. a blush rises over the collar of your shirt. your neck is burning by the time spencer stoops slightly to meet you at eye level.

“you haven’t had one in eighteen hours. you’re doing great. so, so great.” 

a dimple blossoms in his right cheek as he speaks, and his warm smile complements his tender voice perfectly. it's embarrassing to know that he's counting the hours since your last cigarette, but comforting to know that he's willing to take the steps to challenge you, for the sake of your own health.

you pout as you run dry of ideas, a refutation failing to surface on your lips. spencer chuckles, watching as your face contorts into a frustrated expression. 

“those were ten bucks,” you say as a pucker between your eyebrows surfaces.

“you know, in about six hours, there won’t be any nicotine left in your system, and you’ll likely experience even stronger cravings for a cigarette. you might want to drink some water and stay hydrated,” spencer ignores, instead offering a hand to take you to the kitchen.

but you cross your arms in front of your chest, a disapproving look overtaking your face.

“but what are you going to do about me?” you ask, to which spencer raises an eyebrow.

“what do you mean?” he questions, tilting his head to the side slightly. you roll your eyes.

“well? i’m sad now. i’ve got no more cigarettes. i’m hungry. shouldn’t you do something about that?” you teasingly prod at his chest, and you see how he clenches his jaw.

“what do you want me to do about it?” he inquires further, taking a step closer to you.

“i don’t know, you tell me,” you barely whisper as he closes the gap even further. your breath draws in and out rapidly, and your pulse quickens with rhythmic pounds. you’re sure you can hear the air tremble in your windpipe.

“something like… this?” he reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears as he leans to whisper the words in your ear. goosebumps travel along your entire body, making you gulp. he plants a soft kiss at the base of your neck, right above your clavicle. the strands of his hair lightly caress your cheek, leaving a cozy yet shuddering feeling to spread throughout. 

“something like that,” you purr, closing your eyes shut when he takes your hand and laces his fingers with yours. his graceful fingers rub against your skin gingerly.

“keep your eyes closed,” you hear him murmur.

“for what, spence? if this is another one of your ploys– mm!”

before you can finish, spencer’s lips are pressed against yours. your mouth parts slightly, and you can taste his tongue – a blissful blend of double-shot espresso, chocolate, and salted butter. your hand moves up along the back of his body and rests in his tangled hair, light curls wrapped around your fingers like they want to latch on to your warmth.

there's no need for words. your inhales and exhales increase in pace with each passing second, and spencer’s hand snakes between the side of your chest and your hips, driving you a little bit insane.

you only realize that the warmth on your lips is gone when he transfers his soft kisses to your neck right under your jaw, a wet string of saliva slipping from your tongue to the moist area near your thyroid. 

after several heartbeats, you open your eyes to see spencer drinking in the sight of you, warm eyes twinkling and hypnotic under the lighting.

“did you know that popcorn could help with cigarette cravings? it’s actually best to avoid spicy and sugary foods when you’re trying to quit, since they tend to make cigarettes taste better. so… do you want some?” he breathes, lightly squinting as he asks.

you laugh before leaning in to kiss him once more, “so that’s why you tasted like salted butter.”

“is it working?” he replies after you pull back.

“i think so,” you say whilst grinning, and bury your face in his shoulder.

he pulls you in close before marking a tender kiss on your neck once again.

maybe you could get used to this.

[eve209]

Im sick of waiting :3

-REIGEN ARATAKA X TOP MALE READER-

READ: I’m making this because I’m sick of fucking waiting for someone to make another Reigen smut…ONLY 2 SMUTS OF REIGEN, I HAVE WAITED FOR 2 YEARS NOW BRO AND IM SICK. so I have decided to do it.

!WARNINGS!- little bit of hair pulling, rough make out, choking, fucking on the couch, semi public???, little rough, nicknames (hun, beautiful, momma, love, etc.) and talking about getting reigen pregnant ;)

“You doin ok down there baby?” You say as you pet Reigens head as he chokes on your dick.

“Mmmmh!~” Reigen moans under his desk, gripping your thighs as his own legs shake. You and Reigen were alone at the Spirits and Such Consultation Office, Alone as everyone was gone since it was late. The sunset was bleeding into the office windows as you smirk and run your hands  through his hair. Seeing him choke on your dick, moaning like he’s the one getting his dick suck. How cute….

You groan, throwing your head back as you feel the urge to cum, pulling Reigens hair to get that tight mouth off of you. He whimpers, looking up at you, “y-you were gonna cum though…” he saying catching his breath and wiping his mouth.

“I’m just waiting to come inside that ass of yours hun, calm down.” You say smiling and leaning down to wipe the cum off the corner of his mouth and grabbing his chin to kiss him. He moans as you slip your tongue in, letting you explore his mouth. You wrap your arms around his legs and pick him up, still kissing him while walking to the couch on the other side of the office. 

Reigen ripped onto your shirt, moaning into the kiss so loud the damn cafe below can probably hear them. “Fuck sweetheart…quiet down…” you said in between kisses. He moans again as your hand slides up his neck, slightly gripping it.

He starts to grid his waist up, trying to get some friction but doesn’t succeed. He whines and rests his arms beside him on the couch.

‘Damn he must be needy as shit…’ you thought, reasons why is cause Regien NEVER is this…active? During sex at least. He’s usually like a pillow princess! Never doing any work and letting you do every single thing.

The only thing he’s ever really did anything like that was ride you ONE time…and of course it was for your birthday. How sweet of him… “once in a life time chance for a birthday boy” as he quoted it. Well that was the best sex you probably ever had! He was bouncing up and down on your cock. Moaning about how big it is and how he wants you to stuff him with some birthday babies…Arching his back and looking down at you, smiling and biting his lip while his own hand was playing with his nipple and the other on your chest. Calling you ‘Such a good boy..’ for taking all this ass….

You lowkey moaned remembering that night..even the setting was amazing! But anyways, that’s for another time.

You rip off Reigens pants, immediately going start for those tan, smooth, sensitive of his thighs. Biting those thighs up so quick the second you see them. Reigen moans, grabbing a fist of your hair gently, gripping onto the couch pillow he’s leaning his head on as he arches his back. “F-fuck (M/n)…Y-you make me feel so fucking good…” and oh my god you feel yourself almost cumming in your pants. His voice is so beautiful..Everything about him is so damn hot to you. You’re so fucking in love with him…

You lick the bruises on his thigh before looking up him with lustful eyes. “Hey beautiful? You think you still stretched out from last night or do you want me to finger you a lil more?”. Reigen blushes and shakes his head, gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb, “I think I’m ok…j-just fuck me hard, mkay?”. You blush and nod before smirking, sitting up on your knees and going to the drawer to grab a condom and some lube.

You take a deep breath, sliding on the condom and squirting some lube on with one hand as the other massages Reigens thigh for reassurance.

“You ready momma?” You say looking up, grabbing both the back of his thighs and hold them apart as you lean forward to his face. He blushes and nods, grabbing the back of your head and whispering in your ear…

“Do your worst..”

————————————————————————

“F-fuck (M/n)!~ Oh my ff-Ah!”

It’s been 2 hours. Now 10 at night. Straight fucking the shit out of Reigen. Switching positions left and right, making out til both of you lose breath, and so much damn cum. But of course some 2 minute water breaks here and there.

The sun was set by now. Only a lamp on reigens desk on the other side of the office still on. The calming scent of the office surprisingly still there. You bite your lip, your hands on reigens ass, spreading it apart to see his sweet hole sucking your dick like a damn lollipop. You guys are now in doggy position. His pretty face stuffed in a pillow as his back is arched.

“(M/n)…I-i can’t go any l-longer!~ Please I feel like I’m gonna break!” Reigen says after moving his head to the side, such pretty tears streaming down his face. You lean to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “Ok baby.. can you cum one more time for me? Then I’ll clean you up and carry you home, ok?”. Reigen nods and breathes in deep, resting his head on the couch pillow, biting his lip so hard you see blood!

You hold his hand from the back, kissing his hair before thrusting in his tummy again. He’s so damn tight she’s practically breaking your dick off! You groan, grabbing a fist of Reigens and pulling him up to see his face. “Come on pretty girl…moan loud for me..” You say as he start to hold his neck instead of his hair since you propped him up on his hands. He moans louder, one hand grabbing your hand on his neck, throwing his head back.

“F-Fuck! (M/n)~ I’m coming! I’m coming!~Ahh!!~” Reigen moaned, coming hard on the pillow. You groan, slamming yourself inside him one more time, coming inside of his stomach. “F-fuck..” you mumble as you look down at him and kiss his cheek before pulling out. “Good job hunny..you did amazing..” you say rubbing his stomach.

He whimpers, resting his body on you, “I’m tired…” he says holding onto your hand tight. You laugh and flip on around to let him rest on your lap, “it’s ok hun…go to bed I’ll clean up and get us home don’t worry.” you say smiling.

He groans while stuffing his face in your neck, “Ok…love you” he mumbles hugging you tightly.

You laugh and look down at him, kissing his forehead as he drifts into sleep.

“I love you more Reigen..good night.”

[nicktoonsunite]

1. Just needed to say how much I still adore the comics and how much you love these characters. I'm not ashamed to say that I absolutely lose it whenever you post something new. You're the reason why I got back into this fandom and why my incorrect quotes blog exists.

And 2. I was wondering, does Jimmy still see much of Carl, Sheen, Cindy and Libby? I feel like HQ would gain some extra chaos from those guys visiting

THANK YOU SO MUCHH AND ALSO NO WAY so you're the one running the NU incorrect quotes blog?? I probably sound like a broken record at this point but dawg all the interactions you manage to put them in are hilarious and so in-tune with how I picture their characterizations in my head. Pls keep doing what you're doing i love it LMAO

He does but more often its during his own time, because I'd like to think they lead on with busy lives with their careers; Carl and Sheen follow the canon future where Carl's starting out as a Llama caretaker and Sheen's a successful model (yes he safely returned back after Planet Sheen idk I didnt watch that show LOL) as for the girls I imagine Libby's a DJ/music producer and is roommates with Cindy who's furthering her ed in college. They all live far apart now but still actively keep in touch, and when they do want to physically meet up, transport isn't a problem because they have Jimmy lol They would have met the others in HQ a couple times at least, usually it'd be just Carl and Sheen but all four of them have visited together or individually before. Timmy's acquainted with all of them so he's always happy to see them around, Jenny gets along extremely well with Cindy and Libby, Sheen would take every chance to infodump about his favourite super hero Ultra-Lord to the actual irl "superheros" Danny and Manny, and everyone loves SpongeBob because he's SpongeBob

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter pt 3

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read part 1, and part 2

Warnings: some arguing, some cursing

WC: 3.2k

A/N: hi, I think this is going to have 1 more part, maybe 2 if I end up with enough writing for it.

“Am I really that bad of a flirt that you thought all those conversations we had were strictly professional?”

“What?” Sounding like a stuck record you repeat yourself. You couldn’t believe the sentence you had just heard come from Jessie’s mouth.

“Do your other coworkers offer you their jacket? And stay late to talk with you?” She’s staring at you like you’re an idiot, like you should have known she had a crush on you. She’s acting as if she was walking around with a sign with it spelled out for you and you were in the wrong for not knowing.

You’re skeptical, there was no way she was actually interested in you. Your Mom was right, you didn’t have a career yet, you were so much younger than her, you were her physio, she was a professional athlete with her whole life sorted out. Maybe this was a test, maybe your Mom had sent her in here to see what you would do. Maybe she was joking with you, maybe she knew you had a crush and she was teasing you. Seeing if she could make a fool of you. You’re so lost in your own thoughts you lose track of time.

“I’m going to go. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, pretend I didn’t.” Jessie’s soft voice breaks your mental spiral. She pushes her chair back starting to stand up.

“No, wait.” You put out a hand to stop her. “Sorry, I just, it's a lot to process.” You’re not sure what to say next, she sits back down and you both sit there looking at each other.

“Why didn’t you just say something before?” The question comes out of your mouth as nearly a whisper.

“Because like you, I've also been told it’s unprofessional to date a teammate, let alone a staff member, my whole life.” She adds a small sigh, her breath moving some of the hairs that had fallen in front of her face out of the way. “Plus I couldn’t tell if you were feeling the same. You spent a lot of time with me but I couldn’t tell if you were just doing your job or if you were too nervous to tell me to shut my mouth and leave you alone.”

“I was, I do feel the same, it’s just, it’s complicated.” You sigh, you know you’re about to open yourself to the complexity of having mutual feelings, when you both know you shouldn’t. “It’s just, this is my job and you’re Jessie Fleming.” Your hands gesture up and down her body. You notice a small blush come across her face. “Plus, like you I figured this is your job, you were forced to spend time with me, how was I supposed to know it was by choice? I’m just a student trainer, so I thought why would you have any interest in me when you can have anyone.”

“Because, in the best way possible, you treat me like I’m not Jessie Fleming.” She puts air quotes up when she says her own name. “You just treat me like a regular person. You ask about my family, you ask about my aspirations, you ask about my favorite places to visit and where I want to go. Most people ask me about soccer and sure it’s nice but what’s even nicer is not feeling like I have to be a professional athlete all the time for someone to be interested in me.”

Not sure what to say, you stand up to throw out your coffee cup that you had essentially chugged in the past few minutes using sips of the drink to calm your nerves. Instead of returning to your seat you take a place leaning against the wall, off to the side of Jessie, looking down at her as she remains in her seat. You were too restless to sit back down.

You let out a sigh as you let your back hit the wall. Conflicted between the two sides of the situation. You could tell her you can’t see her, tell her it’s unprofessional, inappropriate. Or you could tell her you want to try this. You let your head fall back gently against the wall, you shut your eyes trying to get a clear thought through your head. Your hands are balled into tight fists at your side, both out of nerves and frustration, unsure of what to do.

When you lower your head back down and open your eyes you come face to face with Jessie. While your brain was screaming between your choices she had abandoned her chair to stand in front of you. You jump a bit, startled by her presence.

“Hi.” Her smile is infectious, she says hello as if she’s just greeting you, as if she hadn’t just confessed to having feelings for you.

“Hi.” It’s a breathless response to her but you’re at a loss for any other words. You do exactly what you know you shouldn’t, you subtly ask her to kiss you, breaking your eye contact to look down at her lips, your own tongue coming out to wet your lips. By the time you go to make eye contact with her again she’s already moving in toward you.

Her lips are on yours, your brain is short circuiting, her body is gently pressed to yours, your back against the wall of your office. The kiss was gentle, her lips softly melting into yours, it couldn't have been more perfect. You could taste her coffee on her lips, as she could likely taste yours. She smelled sweet, her hair, not pulled back like usual, softly brushed against your cheek as if bounced from her forward movement. Your hands found themselves placed on her hips where you could feel her shirt was tucked into her joggers. You couldn’t tell if the kiss lasted 2 seconds or 20 minutes, your concept of time completely thrown by her actions.

“Hey we need you upstairs-” the door opens, the voice of your Mom coming through as she comes to grab you for an impromptu meeting. She was expecting to see you at your desk finishing paperwork, or just on your phone. Not expecting to see the team captain pinning her daughter to the wall of the office.

Jessie pulls away out of surprise, turning toward the door, taking a couple of steps back from you so your bodies are no longer up against each other. You do the same, only you’re against the wall and unable to back up from her, you stumble slightly as you try to move, cursing yourself for not previously locking the door. If she hadn’t already seen the two of you, from the way you scattered from each other it was obvious what you both had previously been doing.

“Are you kidding me?” Your Mom shouts. She’s only looking at you, not acknowledging Jessie’s presence. You knew she wasn’t going to yell at Jessie, but you knew you were about to wish you had called in sick today.

“I’m going to go.” Jessie mutters under her breath before awkwardly rushing to grab her coffee off your desk and passing around your Mom to leave, she doesn’t look back as she turns the corner.

You can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but your feet. You can feel the anger radiating off of your Mom.

“Sit down.” She instructs you, she’s talking through her teeth, pointing at your desk chair. You obey, keeping your head pointed at the floor. She stands across from you. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You don’t know what to say or what to do besides sit unresponsive to her. Blinking rapidly you try to comprehend that Jessie had just kissed you, and also that your Mom had walked in seeing her kissing you.

“Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you.” Slowly lifting your eyes, your Mom is standing glaring, arms crossed, face red. “What the fuck are you doing? I just told you, you can’t be messing with her and you said there was nothing going on! Now I walk into her practically defiling you against the wall? So what, did you fucking lie to me before? You know how I feel about lying.”

“I didn’t lie before.” Lying was the one thing your Mom hated the most, you learned that as a kid. You didn’t lie to her, you didn’t lie to anyone, you were often honest to a fault. In this case it was the truth, or at least your truth, before it hadn’t crossed a completely unprofessional line, when your Mom had questioned you in the car, nothing had been going on. Now it had, you had kissed, that crossed the line into unprofessional.

“It’s one thing to have a little crush, you cannot be having sex in your work office.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” You couldn’t believe you had to be having this conversation with your Mom, you had hardly been able to wrap your brain around the fact that Jessie had feelings for you and that she had just kissed you. “It was just a kiss.”

“She had you against the wall. So help me god, if you fuck up this opportunity, I will be so pissed.” Her hands come down hard on your desk. You know that if Jessie or any other player was in the training room they’re hearing every word that she was screaming at you. “I’ve worked my ass off to get to where I am, and I was able to get you this job, if you mess up, it’ll come back on me!”

“I’m not going to fuck up this opportunity. You are so fixated on Jessie and I that you ignore all the good work I do! You don’t acknowledge that I’ve been helpful, that I was able to get Jessie back to playing, I help out the team, but you’re so fucking focused on my personal life you don’t see it! Mark sees it! He likes my work, he acknowledges me. He actually appreciates me, you don’t!” Now you’re yelling back, adding to your list of unprofessional actions today. You know you shouldn’t be yelling at her, she was looking out for you.

“I see the work you do but I’m not going to congratulate you when you clean up, that’s your job. But yes I’m focused on your inappropriate work relationship. I don’t want to see you ruin your life because you want to kiss a pretty girl.”

“She’s not going to ruin my life Mom.”

“She can. She’s the captain of this team. You realize that's a huge deal right? Do you know what it’ll look like if it came out that she was sleeping with the student on the training staff? That’ll ruin your future and tarnish her reputation.”

“I’m a student but I’m an adult mom, it’s not like I’m a 17 year old student. I’m an adult! I can make my own decisions.”

“Yes you’re an adult but this is work! You don’t get to make any choice you want, there are rules and paperwork and protocols you have to go through to do what you’re doing. It’s not as easy as the two of you deciding to make out. There are rules to protect you and to protect her, you two need to respect that. I have half a brain to drag her back in here and give her the same talk, but I won’t. You’re lucky I’m not up in Mark's office telling him to reconsider the offer you’ll be getting to take you to Paris with the team. You cannot be seeing her while you work on this team.”

“Okay.” Agreeing to your Mom’s statement but also not wanting to. You didn’t want to have to ignore Jessie again. You wanted to sit by her, talk with her, share smiles across the room, and you definitely were interested in kissing her more. But you also knew she was right, it was unprofessional, at least while you were still working for the team as a temporary student, regardless of age. There were policies, it was only right that you, and Jessie both follow them and odds are the Captain of the team isn’t about to go marching into the HR office to declare that she just made out with you in your office.

“Just so you know, I didn’t lie before. I promise, that was the first time.” Hoping it’ll ease your Mom’s anger a bit you try and explain the situation.

“Now, we’re both going to be late, thanks for that. We have a quick meeting upstairs.” She ignores your statement, and turns to leave. You follow her out of the room, thankful to see no one was in the training room and hopefully no one else had heard your screaming match.

When you walk into the conference room it’s both a mix of team and staff. You can feel Jessie’s eyes on you and your Mom as you both walk in. Even though no one knew what had just happened in your office, you couldn’t help but feel like somehow everyone knew. You could feel your cheeks turning red, taking a quick glance in Jessie’s direction she gives you a sympathetic smile.

You’re not even sure what the meeting was all about, talks of Paris, talks of getting enough sleep, talks of staying in communication with each other, all go in one ear out the other. It’s like a fog has covered your head, you’re unable to grasp anything being said by the coaching staff, by the training staff, by the players. After a couple of hours the meeting is dismissed. Everyone begins to clear out of the room. You stay sitting, drawing circles onto your notepad, not a single note from the meeting written down. A couple of the players say goodbye to you on their way out of the room, you give them a quick acknowledgment and well wishes, Jessie leaves without saying anything to you.

Mark makes his way over to you, placing his hand on the top of your pen, stopping your mindless scribbling.

“Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to help finish packing up but yes, I have a second.”

“I want you to come with the team to Paris. Is that something you’d be interested in? I understand it’s a large commitment, about two months of your time.”

“That would be incredible, I’d love the opportunity.” You’d get to travel, just like Jessie had said.

“That’s great, there’s some paperwork that’ll come with that, I’ll have the administration send it over for you to look at and sign. Since youlll be staying with us, I’d like you to continue your check-ins with Fleming. Keeping her up to date with the girls statuses as they have a few weeks away from camp. Is that something you can do?”

It takes everything in you to not immediately say yes, of course you wanted the excuse to talk to the girl but you shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t be given the chance to have private conversations with her anymore.

“I can, I think it would maybe be beneficial to have someone more senior on the team involved though, just since I’ve never seen how things operate not in the camp setting.” Making the mature choice, you try to incorporate someone else into your chats to make them professional.

“That’s fine with me, I’ll check with some of the team and see who can help you out getting comfortable with that. We really appreciated your help at this camp, it was nice having you, a lot of the girls were appreciative of you too.”

“Thank you, Mark. I learned a lot. I’m looking forward to Paris.” You stand up and shake his hand before he heads out of the room. You grab your note pad tearing off the top page with scribbling across it and you toss it into the trash as you walk out of the conference room.

“Hey.” You hear and feel her as Jessie grabs your wrist. She had been waiting against the wall outside the door. Looking around nervously at who might see you two you shake your wrist from her grip.

She doesn’t even begin to talk before you start, “Jessie we can’t, what happened in my office cannot happen again.” You try and keep your voice low, not wanting to alert anyone around you.

“I know. I crossed a line, it won’t happen again. I’m sorry. I’m also really sorry your Mom saw and I’m really sorry for whatever happened after I walked out.”

“Just a lot of yelling.” You kick your left shoe with your right, feeling uncomfortable at the mix of tension and guilt sitting in the air between the two of you. “She was mad, especially after I told you what she had told me already.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, it’s on me. I’m the older person here, I’ve been around this team longer, I should know better. I can tell your Mom that, if that’ll help. I can tell her it was all me.”

“I’d maybe avoid her, if you can help it. She thinks you were trying to ‘defile’ me against the office wall. And naturally she isn’t too happy about walking in on that.” A small laugh escapes as you quote your Mom’s words back to Jessie. Now that the initial fear of your Mom’s wrath is gone you found slight humor in the situation.

“Oh no.” Jessie’s hand comes to cover her mouth and the blush on her cheeks spreads.

“Yeah. At least you’ll be able to avoid her for a couple weeks until preparation for Paris starts.” Trying to make light of the situation. You can see Jessie is still a little uneasy about it.

“I guess.”

A silence falls between the two of you. Both standing in the hallway looking at each other. Knowing you both wanted each other but also both knowing you couldn’t have each other.

“I should go, have some packing up to do.” You point in the direction of the stairs that lead to the training room.

“Okay, so are we friends?” She asks you. The question is so innocent but it tugs at your heartstrings. You want to be able to tell her you’re friends but you can’t.

“I mean, maybe just coworkers for now? We can figure out if friendship is an option later. Once this all settles.”

“Right, that’s smart. So I’ll see you at the next camp then?” You can tell she looks a bit upset at your answer, but she accepts it.

“See you then Jessie.” You turn from her, it felt sad leaving her, knowing it would be weeks before you saw her in person again.

“Bye.” You hear her shout after you as you turn to go down the staircase. Hearing her call after you makes a smile break across your face. You knew you’d see her soon but you knew it wouldn’t feel nearly soon enough.