#THESE GIRLS ROCK! I LUV THEM!!
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sylveonkawaii289 · 10 months ago
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đŸ‘…đŸŽžđŸ”„ The Taste Buds from Storybots Answer Time!đŸ‘…đŸŽžđŸ”„
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satorena · 1 year ago
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✼⋆˙ I LUV WHEN WE GET FREAKY ON CAMERA !?
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featuring. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, n. kento x afab!reader
warnings. cybersex, camgirl!reader, facetiming, onlyfans account, dirty talking, usage of toys, reader wears lingerie, fingering, anal play, consented video taping, feminine pet names, let’s pretend toji has money okay? okay.
rena’s note. big shoutout to my dawgs @screampied ! would’ve suffered a bad writer’s block if not for them <3 ly pooks
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
“yeah baby~ fuck, arch your back just like that—shit!”
you complied to his request, moaning as you arch your back and push your hips backwards, deepening the angle of which your dildo penetrated inside of you.
from your facetime call, you faced the camera and propped your dildo to the wall behind you. you watched as your ass recoiled like waves, flesh bouncing off the wall in hypnotic motions, giving your boyfriend the pov he demanded at the start of this call.
you watched through your laptop screen as your boyfriend held his cock tightly with one hand, his other hand propped at the back of his head. his stomach clenched tightly as he matched your pace with his jerks. your wet squelches filled the atmosphere followed by your moans, arms stretched out to claw at the silk sheets on your bed.
“mmh—fuck baby, wish you were h-here right now,” you whine, bringing your fingertips to your lolled out tongue, coating the digits with your saliva, before slipping them between your thighs to focus on your neglected clit.
drawing figure eights to the bundle of nerves, your cheek smushed against the mattress, face heating and tears streaking down your cheeks.
bottom lip tucked in his teeth, gojo narrows his cerulean eyes to zero in on your figure, the sounds of your creamy pussy rocking back and forth on your dildo, your teary eyes watching him with such want— and fuck if he doesn’t wish this conference meeting overseas would end so he could blow your back out.
“i know, ‘m sorry— hah, princess,” he whines, thumbing his leaking slit as the hand behind his hair starts to grip at his own locks. the stinging feeling reminded him of you and it only turned him on further.
“just a f—few more days, yeah? and i’m all yours, promise baby, wait out for me,” he prods further, upset at the fact he has to reach out to you virtually. even behind the low quality of your camera, you shone like an angel sent from heaven, lashes wet with tears and your lips glistening from your smeared gloss.
you nod your head, before fluttering your eyes close as your gut begins to coil. your limbs grow hot and limp, toes curling and you up the pace of your rocking, the drag of the customized silicone dildo against your velvety walls stretching you in ways that reminded you an awful lot of your boyfriend.
“toru—fuck, i’m cumming!” you arch your back deeper, chest pressed flat against the mattress, fingernails scratching the softness of your sheets.
gojo had been on the brink of an orgasm eons ago, but he held back for you. to him, nothing beat busting a nut at the same time you did. his snowy white hair matted to his forehead, cheeks flushed a pretty red as he now focuses on his stiff cock with two firm hands.
he mimics circular motions you usually do, fighting to keep his eyes open as his orgasm washes over him just from the sight of your cries alone. your body shudders, your own orgasm washing over you from head to toe as you mewl out his name, spraying your juices all over the wall behind you and down your plush thighs.
your back arches outwards and you’re drooling all over yourself but gojo doesn’t think he’s seen anything prettier in his entire life.
“shit—oh fuck, cum for me princess, make a mess all over—ngh, yourself for me—my perfect fuckin’ girl.”
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
“welcome back everyone~”
there was something terribly sinful in the way the girl currently clothed in skimpy lingerie, fingers rubbing at her pussy in lazy circles with a dildo to her lips, tip of the toy teasingly grazing at her pink tongue—was also the same girl toji paid money to babysit his kid whenever he was away at work.
toji was no good man. this was definitely wrong on many personal levels, but alas he was still a man, if the way his dick hardened painfully quick at the sound of your honeyed voice alone.
he shifts in his chair, leaning back into it as he palms his hard on through his sweats. he watches with narrowed green orbs as you finally swallow the silicone toy down your throat, the dildo lubed in your saliva whenever it came out of contact from your mouth.
“wishin’ it was your fat cock instead, mmh,” you swirl your tongue around the dildo, before arriving to the tip and latching your plump lips around it.
you simultaneously increase the speed at your folds, fingers soon growing sticky with your essence as the obscene wetness fills the room. you moan around the toy, spreading your lips for the camera while clenching around nothing.
dick long freed from his pants and tucked tightly in his fist, toji groans as he watches your pretty pussy flutter and basically beg for him to fill you up. he hacks up some spit and drips it down on his girthy length, before roughly going back to jerking at his dick.
“i wonder which one of my lucky viewers is gonna get to fuck me next live?” you breathlessly giggle, before lowering the dildo in your free hand to your gaping cunt.
your comments flood with praises and pleasantries, with money flowing in easily—anything to capture your attention and have you notice them. they’re desperate, toji thinks, but realizes he’s definitely no better—hands already moving to donate a much bigger sum than whatever pussydestroyer69 could ever offer you.
“ooh, four bills is a hefty amount,” you tilt your head to the side, your pretty lips stretched in a perfect smile. you giggle when the comments start to insult toji but he’s too far enamoured in the way your free hand now travelled to your breast, groping at the mounds and flicking at your stiff buds.
you return to the regular programming, pressing the tip of your dildo to your cunt, dragging it up and down your wet folds, teasing yourself with your legs spread open for the viewers to see.
“fuck— this feels amazing, mmh, ‘m sooo sensitive,” you whine, applying a small amount of pressure to slightly push the tip in but pull it back out.
this was torturous— your thong pushed to the side to reveal your puffy lips as it leaked your essence. toji let his mind run to how badly he wanted to taste you. he was sure you’d be as sweet as honey, a potent taste on his tongue, and the thought of you face down with your ass up, begging for him to eat you out had his balls tightening with eagerness.
“fuckin’ shit— what a tease.” toji grunts, throwing his head back as he rubs the callouses at his palms against his veiny skin. his hips jerked up in anticipation, feeling his limbs run hot while his thumb circled at his reddened tip.
“y’wanna fuck my gaping pussy? yeah, ‘m all wet and tight just for you— hnng, bet i’d have you cumming quicker than you ever had~” you taunt, and finally push the toy all the way in, moaning at the stretch of the toy at your pussy.
your toes curl and you tighten your hold at your tits, slowly thrusting the dildo in and out of your cunt, the slick sound of the friction enticing toji as he matches your pace, fanged teeth biting down at his bottom lip.
you pout your bottom lip, small whines escaping your throat as you fuck yourself desperately. “feels’good— shit, need you to fuck me daddy!”
call him delusional but he felt you spoke to him and not the rest of these bums, legs opened and pussy clenching down at the dripping toy, as your hips rocked upwards to try and meet the dildo for further pleasure.
the telltale of his dick twitching uncontrollably told he was on the brink of an orgasm, one that has him cursing incessantly and brings sweat to his hairline. he pries his eyes open, refusing to miss out on how your folds get abused by yourself, multitasking between thrusting inside and attacking your clit.
“‘m gonna cum daddy—please lemme cum—ngh!” you plead, and as if some force between the two of you is pulled, you spray your essence all over yourself, slick dripping down your sheets and wetting your lingerie, staining your panties soaked as toji calls out your name, hips bucking into his tight fist as ropes of hot cum are pulled out of him.
“there we go baby—damn, keep creamin’ just like that.”
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
“c’mon mama—don’t you let up, fuck, keep bouncin’ f’me.”
you whined some more, thighs aching and trembling from your consistent riding mixed with the added stimulation to your rim from your gifted anal plug. behind you was geto’s set up, computer camera propped as your back faced it, with geto seated at the edge of the bed.
hands planted firmly onto his chest, you stabilized yourself as you continued to rock your hips, dragging yourself up and down on his inches of dick, feeling his hardness stretch out your walls.
“sugu, ‘s too much— shit, want you to fuck me already!” you moaned, leaning your head downward to his broad shoulders, forehead slippery with sweat.
geto chuckled at your neediness, clicking his tongue as he lands a firm slap to your reddened ass. you all but moaned, hips moving back and forth as you clenched your mounds around his cock.
“but baby,” geto complains mockingly, slipping his hand in between your bodies and thumbing at your swollen clit. “y’wouldn’t wanna disappoint your fans, would ya?”
as he spoke, he glanced over your shoulder to check the comment section, as it was filled with numerous donations, praises as well as degradations. the more his viewers donated money to him, the quicker the toy plugged in your ass vibrated.
the triple stimulation had your brain gone to mush, your golden spot brutally toyed with as the foreign but pleasurable feeling in your puckered hole stretched it out, added with the circles at your bundle of nerves, sending shivers all throughout your body.
“uhn uhn,” you shake your head, all but against the idea of ruining his live stream simply because you were tired. more than anything, you wanted to cum, even if it had been in the most torturous way you could think of.
“that’s my good girl,” geto presses his lips at the crane of your head. his praise sends tingles in your belly, core licking with heat. his hands find their way to your ass cheeks, groping the soft mounds as encouragement, the actions causing a shift in the toy to be pushed slightly deeper inside of you.
“f-fuck—don’t do that, i’ll cum!” you complain, arching your chest into his, sensitive nipples brushing into his own.
the creamy mess at the base of his cock clearly accessible to the viewers sent a massive amount of money right into geto’s account and straight to your ass, as you jolted into his hold, clinging your arms around his neck.
“holy shit—one thousand?” geto asks breathlessly, followed by immediate more pinging indicating more donations. “you’re a hit baby—they fuckin’ love this pussy. too bad it’s all fuckin’ mine though, hah,”
you’re flattered by it all, and hit with a final wave of confidence before you’re sure the dam in your gut will snap, you push him back to lay on his bed. geto watches you with a cocked brow and smug smile, baby hairs messily framing his flushed skin.
“oh?” he asks, amused by the sudden turn of events. he never lets go of your hips, instead tightening his hold on you as you plant your feet to the mattress.
you hop up and down, his dick nearly slipping by how far up you rode him, with your palms pressed against the plane of his abs. feeling tears build up at your lash line, you moan and wail, dick penetrating deep into your cunt deliciously.
“fuckin’ ride this dick, ‘s all yours mama—shit, gonna make me cum all inside that pretty pussy, mmh. give it all t’me,”
it doesn’t take much between his constant praising, the slickness of your wetness around his cock and the additional vibrations to your ass to have you cumming hard around him. you clamp your walls down, momentarily pausing your riding as you let it take over your entire body.
geto comes through, hips bucking upwards to further your orgasm and you’re sure you momentarily blacked out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.
“what a pretty fuckin’ face baby, all mine. goddamn, ‘s too bad your biggest fan won’t get to see it— ain’t that right, satoru?”
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
“k-kento—oh fuck daddy, ‘s so fucking deep!”
his wrist ached as he worked his way up and down his cock, tip throbbing an angry red. he watched himself hold your waist with one grip of his hand, the other propped up to film the lewd scenery, capturing you in all your glory.
nanami maintained a steady focus, pistonning into your cunt at a ruthless pace, a ruthless angle, and judging by the sound of your broken moans, he was thrusting into that spot that had you seeing stars and slurring your words.
on the screen showed you face down with your ass up, hands bind by his tie behind your back, face planted into his bed as he fucked into you passionately. your pussy gripped onto his cock greedily, sucking him in as the ripples of your ass bounced on his pelvis.
“my perfect girl, fuck, keep taking it just like that.” his large hand held at your waist firmly, bottoming out just to pull out all the way to where your lips latched at his tip, coating his dick in your creamy essence.
his hand made it to the top of his shaft, and when the screen presented him an erotic view of both your body fluids— semen, juices, sweat— sticking between both your damp skin, where you lowered yourself on his cock and where he pushed forward to fasten the process, his thumb grazed over his slit tauntingly, the same way he’s seen you done it dozens of times.
it’d never occur to him that watching himself plow into you would turn him on so, but you were so far away and he was immensely turned on.
his button down now unbuttoned, his chest heaved up and down as he panted heavily, sliding his other hand down to cup at his balls, the way you’ve done to him so many times. he winces at the feeling, dick painfully hard as it twitches in his hold.
“holy fuck— my perfect fuckin’ girl, shit.” he groans, narrowing his eyes to focus on the hypnotic sight that had his erection crying impossibly further.
the sight of you unable to do anything but take his dick like the slut you were made to be for him had him curling his feet and thighs tremble rather quickly. your fingers twitched as you begged him to free you, to let you touch him, but all that resorted to was your ass getting slapped for your disobedience.
“behave princess.” nanami warned you while rubbing his hand at the reddened skin, and you whined a ‘m so sorry daddy but obeyed nonetheless, and whatever kink triggered in nanami activated, as he jerked off faster, desperate to chase that release.
in the video, nanami pulled his dick out momentarily, causing you to cry out at your pussy’s emptiness. lowering the camera to your abused cunt, your pink walls gaped and clenched around nothing, practically calling out for him to fill the void. he chuckles behind his phone, before grabbing at his cock and lining himself at your entrance, teasing your folds by dragging his tip up and down before bottoming out again.
“fuckin’ hell, i need you right now,” nanami cussed, wanting nothing more than to feel your warmth around his cock instead of his own hand, to feel you clamp and suck him into your pussy, to have you squirt on his cock and still beg him for more despite your sensitivity.
between the pornographic sight of your cunt clenching down on his cock, your asshole winking at him, the recoil of your ass onto him and the sinful arch of your back, nanami soon painted his fist white in his cum, head thrown back as he was overtaken by an orgasm.
“damn it—shit, just like that princess—keep gripping onto me, gonna fill that pretty pussy full of my cum.”
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yes, gojo was the generous donator on geto’s live stream. pervert
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lovieku · 1 month ago
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TRUE LOVE ⋆ ì •ê”­
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when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.
⋆âș₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill
pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader
genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l
warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season
word count 10.2k
author’s note hi lovies đŸ©· it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg
 it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint
 please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always đŸ©· luv u <3
banner by the gorgeous @awrkive âŠč₊⟡⋆
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On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.
The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.
Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.
It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.
You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.
You’d never go through something like that. Never.
And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.
You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.
See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.
Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.
You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.
But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.
These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.
Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his
 muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.
Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.
Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.
He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.
Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.
Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.
He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.
What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.
Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.
It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.
Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.
“Ouch, that looks painful.”
Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.
Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”
Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.
That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”
Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?
You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.
Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”
You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”
He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”
You gulp.
What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?
“Test me.”
He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”
“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.
He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”
“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”
You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.
Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.
The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.
The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.
“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.
Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”
Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”
“Oh. Weird.”
“Sorry.”
With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.
The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.
Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”
“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—
“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.
The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”
“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”
The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”
“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.
Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.
Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.
But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”
“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t even feel it.”
Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.
And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”
Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”
He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “
 For what exactly?”
“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”
Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”
With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.
Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.
On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.
You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?
jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes
jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend
You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool
jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?
You [3:46 p.m.]: no
 i’m good with yours â˜ș
You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—
jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋
“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.
You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join
jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol
jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs
You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me
jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass
You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”
On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.
Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.
Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.
The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.
Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.
But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.
The bar feels suffocating on your skin.
Your dress clings too tightly.
The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.
Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.
You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.
You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.
What are five things that you can see?
Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.
Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.
Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.
Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.
One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.
His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.
Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are
 you
 ok—
“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”
Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.
The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.
Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.
Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.
At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.
Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”
His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”
“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”
Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.
“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?
“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”
“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I
 was getting better, I guess.”
The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.
“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”
You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.
Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.
On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.
You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.
But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.
That is why you find yourself facing
 Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.
You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”
Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”
“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”
The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure
 Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”
You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”
Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.
For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even
 more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.
By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.
You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.
Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.
The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.
“Jeongguk.”
He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”
You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”
He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.
You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”
Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.
Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”
Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”
There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.
You huff, “I regret coming here.”
“Yeah, why did you come here?”
Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”
Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”
Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”
He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”
You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”
Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”
You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”
“Bye!”
You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.
Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.
With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?
On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.
You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.
Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.
He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.
When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”
You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”
He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”
“With a really good time.”
“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”
You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”
“I’m not—”
“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”
Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”
Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”
“I love Christmas.”
The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.
You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?
Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like
 crowded spaces.”
You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.
He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.
It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.
What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—
“Hey, dimples. You okay?”
Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”
You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.
When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just
” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”
Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.
You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.
You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.
Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.
Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But
 you wanted to visit the markets.”
You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”
The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.
He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”
You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”
He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”
“But—”
He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”
The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.
You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.
To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”
Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”
“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”
The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but
 Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”
You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.
Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”
Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.
Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”
You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”
Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.
When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”
Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”
On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.
You had been talking non-stop ever since your
 date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?
Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.
Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.
It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.
You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.
Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.
Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.
Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help đŸ„ș
He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.
It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.
What’s the purpose of this?
He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.
Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.
But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.
It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.
It’s been such a bad day.
So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.
Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.
“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.
He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?
What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.
Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.
He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.
He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.
When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.
Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.
“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.
He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.
That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.
Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.
Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.
Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.
It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.
When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.
Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.
With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.
“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”
Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know
 You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”
Oh. Is that really what it is like?
Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.
The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.
“How
 How was your day?”
It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.
But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.
Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.
On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.
Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.
But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.
It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.
Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.
But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.
And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.
You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.
“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”
Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.
Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.
You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”
Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.
He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.
“On one condition, though.”
You chirp, “Yeah?”
He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”
Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.
He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”
Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”
He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”
“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”
His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”
You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”
Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”
There’s no other second to waste.
The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.
Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.
But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.
Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.
The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.
On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.
When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”
You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”
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screampied · 10 months ago
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Hey vegas baby, so lil request if you don’t mind, imagine riding Sukuna and he is slapping your face urging you to go faster, and you slapping him back and laughing in his face đŸ€­ like he is in shock because how dare you, but in the same time he is like “ok girl, I’m intrigued” đŸ€š
Love you and your works đŸ€Ž
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❀ à»‹đ“ˆ’ sukuna getting turned on at you being a brat
warnings. fem! reader, cowgirl, praise, degradation, impact play, unprotected, choking, overstim. an. thank u luv u2!!!!
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sukuna would be laid back with the most smuggest expression on his face — he noticed how you’d always halt your hips a little, slowing down the moment you were getting close.
he tsks, bringing a big hand to grip your chin before giving you a few smacks. “awwww,” he’d coo, feeling your hips try to keep up its repetitive jerking. he was just teasing you, giving you another light tap on your cheek before your bottom lip quavered. you felt yourself reaching close, your legs felt like complete mush before you whimpered. “don’t tell me the big girl’s tapping out already. what happened to ridin’ me until my eyes rolls back?” and sukuna sneers once he sees your cute glare. “i was rooting for you, princess.”
“s-shut up, ‘kuna.” you’d gnaw on your bottom lip, and he stares at you with a smirk. knowing him, he’d probably reply with the obvious, ‘make me’ to which he did. as you made him lean back just a bit more, your hand ends up lightly going against his face.
sukuna’s stunned for a moment before he jibes. he brings both big hands towards the edges of your waist, pressing his thumbs into them before snarling lowly.
“hm. did you just slap me?” and whilst he said that, you felt yourself pulse — not a heartbeat but a familiar pulse that was located between your legs. not waiting for an answer, he snickers, grabbing your chin once more before he spats, “oh. don’t look away from me now. do it again. ‘n just a heads up, if you’re gonna smack me at least do it harder, little girl.”
“i’m not gonna do it again because you’re gonna e-enjoy it.” you moaned, feeling him use his hands to make your hips rock against him again. it felt so good . . the stimulation, whilst you grind against him, your knees felt weak. each buckle, you heard an echoe through your ears ring the more and more you felt yourself getting close.
“yeah ‘m gonna e-enjoy it,” he mocks your little weak stutter, dragging a thumb towards your upper lip. he snickers, pulling you into a quick kiss before humming. “c’monnn, no eye contact either? such a shy baby.”
you continue to glare at him. making a cute attempt at moving your hips again — but he reached so deep inside your walls, that spot.
you let off a soft whine, feeling the curve of his dick stretch against your sweet cunt that never stopped gripping down on him. it was exceedingly sloppy, your arms that were thrown over his neck started to feel warm.
“f-fuckkk,” you’d bite your tongue, and sukuna just guffaws once more. he finds your behavior adorable and somewhat amusing.
he considers it cute on how you desperately tried to bite back your own moans, you throbbed at the continuous stares he gave you. such playful stares, he was waiting for it.
it was the way your legs were just about to give out — you felt an entire bundle of nerves brew up. up and up and up, you didn’t know how much longer you could have lasted.
“oh, boo. don’t make me fall asleep,” sukuna raises a brow, releasing an overly dramatic faux yawn. he was so cocky, purposely being in manspread for you. he parts his legs just a bit more and you moan. the heftiness of his cock pressing into you, it was enough to make your mouth salivate. “thought i trained my girl to not get so s—”
sukuna gets cut off once he feels your hips start to quicken and he chuckles, maintaining the same rough grip on your waist.
“mhm,” he huffs out, feeling gradually hasten. yet sukuna barely bats an eye, although . . that’s when you bring a hand to wrap around his neck. “choking me now? that’s k-kinda kinky.”
you watch as sukuna’s breathing hitch, and a sly smile spreads across his lips. he likes the feeling of your slender fingers wrapping around his throat. you give it a slight squeeze, and for a brief moment you watch his pearly fangs poke out. if he wasn’t amused, he was surely amused now.
sukuna doesn’t expect you to start laughing in his face now. he’s a bit caught off guard — the both of you were reaching such euphoric peaks at an unsteady pace, he intakes a single sharp breath before you murmur. “now look at you, ‘kuna. growing flustered ‘n all.”
“don’t 
 get too much of a swell head, brat,” he scoffs, and he was for sure flustered. a cute tinted pink color rises towards his face, and you felt his dick sporadically twitch inside of you. sukuna was definitely embarrassed. for once, he barely had a witty comeback, and he grips the fat of your ass before giving it a rough spank. “shut up ‘n finish.”
“don’t tell me what to do with a cute expression like that,” you giggle, the grip of your thumbs lingering a bit harder against his neck. sukuna snarls. you could tell you were irking his nerves, and he always let you. it pissed him off to say the least, sukuna casually gives you an eye roll and you smile. “you’re being the brat more than me.”
“watch how you speak to me girl,” he grumbles, and a small pout curls against his lips — it was cute, the curse trying to keep up his mean tough facade yet was melting right underneath you.
he loathed how much he enjoyed feeling your hands, the softness of your bare hands against his skin.
feeling you steadily jerk back and forth against him, a toe-curling orgasm right at the tip of your tongue, you moaned. sukuna buried his fingers into your skin, his right thigh idly bouncing underneath you. “mhm. try giving me dirty talk.”
“dirty talk?” you tease, softly stroking your thumb against the middle part of his neck. “you’re into that too, ‘kuna?”
“shut up woman,” he scoffs with puffed cheeks. he regrets even asking — yet you hum, leaning up close to him before giving him what you wanted. you imitated him earlier, smacking his temple gingerly yet with just enough roughness.
the last thing you expect was for a low needy moan to depart from his lips. “you gonna make a mess for me, sukuna?”
“f—fucking woman,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s starting to lose composure. the softness in your voice, the playfulness that ran underneath it. he’s stirring up your insides without a doubt, making your knees buckle and lock. as you straddle him, he could barely keep his hands gripped onto your waist. roughly attached like velcro.
sukuna’s breath, it became unsteady. this time you’re the one squeezing his chin, giggling at the way he tries to give you an irritated glare. “just make me cum.”
“okay baby.”
“call me that again ‘n see what happens.”
“aw baby, don’t be so stubborn.”
his eyes flicker towards you, and you were keen on getting on him annoyed. the grip your soaked pussy had on sukuna had him grow mute for a moment. just the mere squelches that loudly ricocheted from between your legs. the sweetened slick that ran against your slit, it had him locked. for a moment he’s seeing nothing but pure angelic stars. sukuna’s practically speechless, and he finds his rough hands tightly holding onto the mounds of your ass.
“f-fuck,” he huffs out, and his voice grows a tad bit lower. the baritone in it makes you pulsate. shockwaves started to coarse through his veins. it was a multitude of synonyms — heavily intense.
it makes his jaw tense and tighten, he bites down on his lip the moment he feels his balls nearly prepare to dunk inside of you. he was so thick, you had to angle yourself a certain way so he could hit each and every orifice of your gummy walls. every corner, every direct hit to make you moan tight against his ear. every crevice.
“c-cumming,” he throatily groans, his climax hitting him like a truck — the both of you ended up finishing at the same exact time, and sukuna’s eyes eventually do end up rolling back. he literally ate his words. he was on a plateau, a constant high. he swallows thickly, and you make your hips come to a halt once he starts to pour a hefty load into your cunt.
it was so much that it spilled out. all out of your folds, it was a mess. you wriggled your hips teasingly, getting over your orgasm yourself before running a finger down his chest. “tapping out on me, sukuna?”
“tch,” he growled, feeling that same hot flush rise towards his cheeks. he couldn’t deny though, he may have found himself a few favorite kinks. sukuna’s hooded eyes glare at you before his and flex and tense. “whatever, little girl. you—you win, this time.”
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ttsukiimi · 7 months ago
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───〃★ SHE SEE MONEY ALL AROUND ME .ᐟ
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𝐬đČđ§đšđ©. ⎯ Satoru Gojo is cocky. And he’s made a promise to you—he has enough money to fĂșck you on. Tonight he gets to prove that statement.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬. ⎯ sugar daddy!gojo x sugar baby!reader, overstimulating, orgasm denial, unprotected s⍣x, dom!satoru, slight rough s⍣x, slight tĂ­t play, pĂșssy slapping?, mean!satoru, cĂșnnilingus, slight fing⍣ring, heavy degrading , reader referred to as (baby, sweetheart, slĂșt)
𝐚/𝐧 ⎯ inspired frm this one fic i read a while ago but i can’t find ittt :( enjoy rough n mean sugardaddy gojo tho luvs <3 ty for 3k!
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“Satoru
” a breathless whimper of his name fell from your lips—desperate, pleading, for anything, really. Your mind felt hazy, overstimulated, with the incessant licks lapping at your cunt, the big, veiny hands palming at your tits, the money crinkled under your sweaty bodies—everything was too much.
Your body begged for a release, a break, even, but Satoru’s pace only began to quicken, tongue swirling around your puffy clit as his thick fingers entered—slowly. Agonizingly slow.
Satoru smiled against your cunt, lips and chin deliciously drenched in your essence, eyes delirious. “C’mon baby.”
His fingers pummeled deeper, only to begin pumping in and out of you. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already?”
You shook your head, no.
“Good. Cause ‘m just getting started.”
And you took in a deep breath—because in the moment, that seemed like a threat.
Satoru Gojo had just begun and you’re already on the verge of tears.
Your pussy quivered around his tongue, the tell-tale sign of your oncoming orgasm Satoru was waiting for.
And with that, Satoru removed himself from in between your legs, grinning as he loomed over you. Satisfied by how desperate you seemed, hips bucking towards him so pitifully.
“N-no, was so close, ‘toru!” you sobbed, craving the release pent up in your lower stomach, peering into his eyes.
“No?” his grin widened, and his hand came up to cup your face, forcing you to keep your gaze locked into his. “Don’t remember you having permission to tell me what to do, sweetheart.”
He released his grip on your face, and the all too familiar sound of him unbuckling his Cartier Santos embroidered belt filled the space. He’d made you remember the brand—all with countless, harsh spanks to your ass with it, of course.
Tears welled in your eyes from both anticipation and anxiety; because with the look on his face, you were sure you’d be getting it hard tonight.
“It’d be a shame if I wasn’t here to put you in your place, hm?”
Silence.
“Answer me.”
“Y-yes. Put me in my place, ‘toru.”
Satoru’s lips were on yours before you knew it, kissing you, firm. “Good girl.”
You watched him, timidly, free his cock from its confines, the shaft jumping, angry tip leaking pre-cum, and he’s rock hard.
He grabbed his pulsing cock, stroking himself languidly, using his spit as lube as his rough hand made its way up and down it. His gaze flickered up to you and Satoru chuckled—practically laughed at how intently and desperately your eyes fixed to his dick.
“Y’want it, baby?”
You nodded quickly, yes.
“Words.”
Oh, god—he’d truly be the death of you.
“Mhm-hm! Wan’ it so b—“
A swift thrust! and Satoru had somehow managed to sheath himself fully inside you, giving no time to adjust before he was drilling in and out of your sweet cunt.
Pleasure seeped into your bones and you sighed, back arching off the money covered sheets underneath you. The paper crumbled and stuck to your skin—the feeling only serving to overwhelm your mind even more.
Each ram felt better than the last, thick, filling you to the hilt, the stretch so delicious it had you crying out for more.
“Lil’ Fuckin’ slut.” Satoru spit, grip tightening on your thighs, spreading them apart further, hissing at the sight of your cunny struggling to take him whole.
A smirk bloomed on his lips, and an audible slap landed on your puffy clit. Satoru’s fingers moved around the sensitive nub of nerves, rubbing in maddening little circles as he fucked you senseless.
And your body jerked towards his touch—his thrusts, desperately nearing that static high you’ve been desiring.
“Yeah? You like that?” he purred, teasing, breathing down your neck, fingers moving faster now. He knew you were too fucked out to speak but—oh, how he loved when you were like this.
All crying and creaming on his cock, all the while choking on your own moans, pitifully letting him have his way with you.
“Feels s’ good..”
Satoru rammed into your G-spot over and over again, making sure you felt him pulsing inside you, and with the way you were contracting around him, he was sure you did.
With each thrust the hairs at his base tickled your clit, the feeling chipping at your resolve—fueling that heat within you that threatened to burst any moment now.
“Close? Can feel you pulsin’ around me.”
“Y-yeah..”
He hummed, his hands snaking up to your chest, your tits bouncing so lewdly, so entrancingly he simply had to cop a squeeze.
You moaned from the added stimulation, back arching further, further until an ear piercing cry left your lips—and you came.
Satoru was quick to hold you down, sighing, sure that you took the last rams of thick cock he drove into you before he came, too.
“Shit. Look at that..”
He whistled, a cocky smirk growing on his lips. As Satoru pulled out, a mixture of your cum and his seeped out of your weeping sex, drenching the sheets and the cash beneath you in translucent white.
And, well—he’d done it.
Satoru had proved his statement to you—he does have enough money to fuck you on.
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lvndosnorris · 9 months ago
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🍒anon
how about lando letting his girl be on top for the first time ??? luv u
🍒 you've made my inbox so happy — sending you kisses
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it was perhaps the fourth, fifth, time you'd slept together before you swallowed your nerves and asked lando if you could be on top this time. almost immediately you felt a wave of embarrassment, the urge to bury your head in your hands and pretend you hadn't uttered a word became overwhelming as you tried to inspect how your newish boyfriend was going to react.
the position you were in had already formed that all-too familiar knot in your stomach — sat in his lap as his blunt fingernails dug into the bare flesh of your thighs. for a split second he thought he misheard you, only realising what exactly you'd proposed when you ducked your head to finish tracing your forefinger over his collarbones. you couldn't stop your babbling, even when you tried; "it's just— i'd hate for you to think that you always have to do all the work, especially because i know how much you enjoy it and— lando stop making this awkward!"
he'd only be able to shut you up by gripping your cheeks, squeezing them together gently as he raised his eyebrow in a manner of are you finished yet? and lando wasn't entirely sure on how to respond: simply catching your lips with his as you shuffled that little bit closer, whining almost pathetically into his mouth as he tilted his head back, letting your tongue slip further against his. it was a messy kiss, a heated one laced with urgency as he felt the blood rush to where your bodies were connected.
you were thankful that he was pressed against the headboard, the wooden piece offering leverage as you lifted your hips just enough for you to bunch his shirt up onto your waist and lando to kick his boxers between the sheets. he couldn't take his eyes off you, even if he tried, enthralled with the way you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you nudged yourself against his tip, "just go slow, yeah? don't want my girl to hurt herself."
his words offered solace as you strangled back a whimper, barely able to lift your chin from your chest as lando's hands cupped the back of your thighs for support. the angle was different — one that made your cunt stretch in a new way, the pounds of your heart drowning out any mewls that left your mouth as you pushed him further inside of you.
it was lando who stopped you halfway down his length, his forehead scrunched as his sight became impeded by a strand or two of his hair. it was picturesque: the way his biceps flexed as he held you tightly, a sheen of sweat coating his skin as he dropped his vision to where he had disappeared inside of you. his moans were incoherent, a mixture of fuck and your name as he guided your movements, only letting you sink deeper when he heard the way you drawled out your pleads.
mouths clashing he concealed your quiet whines of pain, his tip kissing your cervix in a way that you'd never felt before. his lips didn't leave your, hungrily attached as you languidly rocked your hips, hands clung onto the back of his head as you pulsated around him. lando's hands trailed from the curve of your ass to between your legs, the wetness that coated his fingers earning a groan as he thumbed at your clit — the pleasure surging through your veins as you listened to him groan, neither of you set on cumming anytime soon in fear the euphoria would end too quickly.
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joonberriess · 1 year ago
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𓆩♥đ“†Ș “you don’t have to admit you wanna play, just let me rock you till the break of day,” – jock!jk
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·˚ àŒ˜ 💌 TAGS — simping at its finest, blowjobs, cum-swallowing, degradation, dumbification, jk is mean but also a praise fanatic, oc is a cute puppy who eats it all up, objectification(?) pretty sure bc jk just has unholy thoughts about oc, oc is THEE it girl, dirty talking, messy lil make-outs, thank you kiss on the tip LOL, PET NAME GALORE, oc is a nice lil bimbo everyone loves ❀ even jk’s friends luv her
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Jungkook listened to whatever the hell Jennie was explaining to him, in truth he stopped paying attention like five minutes ago. He sat there like a fried vegetable just zoning out and nodding mindlessly whenever Jennie looked at him and asked if he agreed etc. He didn’t want to be rude to Jennie but any more of this and he’d go insane he fears.
“So for the powerpoint I was thinking we should..” Jennie’s voice slowly fades out as the sound of the front door opening catches Jungkook’s eye/attention. Holy shit he doesn’t believe what he’s witnessing. He doesn’t realize he’s staring hardcore at Jennie’s poor unsuspecting roommate.
He instantly recognizes you as the girl he sees his team/friends go crazy over. You were quite the talk of the campus—cute, slutty, bimbo-like, these were some of the most common things said. If Jungkook had to admit, you were pretty cute and he’s only ever really seen you casually here and there. He finds himself licking his lips slowly and sitting up while clearing his throat.
“Hi Jennie, hi Jennie’s friend.” You sweetly say while waving at Jungkook politely. He gets an eyeful of tits and soft tummy as you pass by.
You’re wearing this soft pink tracksuit and white baby tee crop top which hugs your pretty little tits just nicely. Don’t even get him started about your backside which is enough in itself to bring a tear to his eye. Jungkook doesn’t realize he’s overdoing it with his staring until Jennie clears her throat pretty loudly.
“Ahem.” She glares at him, “As I was saying,” she shoves her laptop in Jungkook’s face.
He doesn’t see more of you because you end up heading down the hall to your room after saying “bye-bye” to both him and Jennie. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He grunts in annoyance.
“Not my roommate Jeon, you can go about fucking anything that fucking walks and has a hole between their legs but you leave y/n out of your lechery. Got it?” She hisses, “I can see the gears working in that stupid head of yours, so I’m warning you. Now help me with this powerpoint asshole, I’m not doing all the work.”
Jungkook internally groans—overprotective roommate, greaaat.
Whole time he works on the project his mind is filled with obscene thoughts and nasty little daydreams he comes up with just thinking about you. Jungkook’s had his fair share of hook-ups but none have ever truly made him go this crazy before. He’s fucking FIENDING for it, would be on his damn knees begging for you to crush his head with your soft thighs if he could.
Too bad Jennie said you were off-limits though. Unless..
Much to Jungkook’s dismay he doesn’t see you for the remainder of the time he’s there. He does see you more often around campus though, whether it’s you hopping out of your very pink car or you running about all over campus with a pink drink in your hands. He can’t get enough of you, and it’s fucking obvious to his friends who make fun of him for it.
“y/n, Kook? Really?” Yugyeom snorts, “Only in your fucking dreams will you ever hit that, your little guy down there probably wouldn’t even know what to do with all that ass.” Laughter all around them erupts as Yugyeom smugly smirks, happy with himself.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You’re so fucking stupid,” more laughing, “honestly, if anyone has more chances it’s me, you’re all either losers AND she’s never bat an eye at you. I don’t see any action from any of you either, all talk and shit.” He mutters while taking a drag from the blunt they were all passing around.
“Not true! y/n is a nice girl Jungkook.” Jimin snorts, “Watch,” he turns around and looks over the area for you, “hey y/n!” He yells while waving his arms. They all wait patiently for your reaction, low and behold you just end up proving Jimin correct.
You look confused at first until you smile brightly, “Hi,” you wave back while walking over, “what are you guys up to?” You tilt your head, lips pursed in a adorable little pout.
“Smoking.” Yugyeom replies curtly, “Want some?” He holds the blunt out to you.
Jungkook doesn’t know why but that shit irks the fuck out of him, he shoots his friend a glare and fans the smoke out of your direction before it can hit you. You smell like chai mixed with pumpkin, and he definitely does NOT want to ruin your pretty smell.
“No thank you,” you politely reply and then turn to look at Jimin again, “ ‘m a little sad though, because this morning I tried to make waffles but I didn’t know you had to actually pull the lever down and I didn’t get to eat my waffles.” You sigh wistfully, “See?” You hold out the raw and cold waffles wrapped up in a napkin, “And I don’t like it,” you shake your head, “you’re my friend right Jiminie? Can you buy me some waffles from the cafe pretty please?” You whine.
Jimin turns a little red at the nickname and nods, “Here,” he holds out a couple of bills, more than enough.
The other guys scramble for their wallets, “I’m your friend too right y/n?” They say while holding out their own money to you. Jungkook just stands there slack-jawed, he has never seen his own friends this fucking down-bad before. Oh, but they wanted to laugh at him for simping after you? Funny how the tables have turned.
“Reallyyyy?” You breathily giggle while accepting the money, “Thank you!” You kiss Jimin on the cheek before skipping away with literally breakfast, lunch, and dinner money.
“But I’M the fuckin’ simp? Yeah, totally.” Jungkook scoffs while shaking his head.
Jungkook starts making up an excuse to talk to you from then on. He doesn’t have to do much because you do all the talking for him, he just stands there listening to you ramble on and on about something he doesn’t recall asking. He thinks it’s cute when you stop mid-sentence and say in utter confusion, “What was I talking about again?”
If he could, he’d sit there and just listen to you talk all day. He’s surprised how much he likes your ditziness and dumb little brain fart moments, he finds that he doesn’t mind it so much. Like now, he was sitting there propped up against his car in the parking lot listening to you rant about astrology, time-loops, and anime..?
“Yeah?” Jungkook occasionally says while he watches you passionately explain to him what a fucking shinigami was.
“Think about it—politics and death notebooks, they go hand in hand for disaster and doom.” You softly say, completely side-tracking from the original topic, “I wish I had a shinigami though,” you pout while tapping your finger against your chin, “I think Ryuk is pretty cool. Have you seen the anime?”
Jungkook hums, “No, heard of it but haven’t seen it. So like, shinigami’s come with a death note or what?” He asks, ready for another little rant of yours (he doesn’t mind though). His eyes fall down to your pretty camisole you wore today. You were wearing these cute tight jeans that hung low on your hips, he loved the little pink bows you attached to the belt loops.
“Mm-hm,” you nod, “oh! I gotta go before I forget, all my undies shrunk in the dryer and now they’re pretty tight ‘n they fit a little smaller so now I have to buy some more.” You pout, “Bye Jungkookie,” you throw one arm around his neck as you side-hug him, standing on your tippy toes to reach his height as you press a kiss to his cheek, “bye-bye!” You wave and run off.
“Bye..” Jungkook whispers in awe, he smells a hint of your perfume on his shirt and he vows then and there he isn’t going to wash this shirt anytime soon.
The next time that Jungkook sees you it’s when he’s leaving your shared apartment after another project session. He sees you bent over while poking and trying to pull at the gas tank lid, which is obviously sealed shut. He whistles under his breath and walks over, eyes dropping down to your perky ass which is covered in these pretty little shorts which hug both cheeks nice and tight.
“What you doing down there, hm?” Jungkook leans against the car with his arms folded over his chest and an amused smile on his face, “Having fun?”
“Jungkook, hi,” you greet softly while standing up straight, “I was just trying to get this stupid thingy open because Jennie is letting me borrow her car cause mine is in the shop getting the windows tinted,” you pout, “but I don’t know how to open this stupid thing, and I wanna fill her car with gas as a thank you for letting me borrow it. Help meeeee,” you whine tugging at his arm.
“C’mere,” he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and guides you to sit in the driver's seat, “you see this baby?” He squats down so he’s eye-level with you, his free hand rests over your soft thighs while he points with his other, “You just pull this, and wa-la, the gas tank lid pops right open.” He chuckles and squeezes your thigh.
Your eyes brighten, “Reallyyy? How cool, thank you.” You happily throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, “no wonder that stupid thing wasn’t opening.” You giggle.
Jungkook takes a deep whiff of your soft coconut smell, he closes his eyes and sighs in pure bliss. This was the dream dammit, he never wanted to leave this spot EVER. “It was no problem really.” He mumbles more to himself while he stares at your pretty tits.
Fuck the friend code (if you can even call Jennie’s threat that), friend code didn’t have a pair of child-bearing hips and a ass shaped like a fucking peach like you did. Who was Jennie to keep all of you to herself so selfishly?
“Jungkook,” you softly say, “ ‘m gonna give you a thank you kiss.”
Jungkook laughs in amusement over how proud of yourself you look right now, he finds himself shaking his head and speaking in a lower pitched tone, “Yeah, where? Right here?” He turns his face to stick his cheek out.
A tiny little giggle escapes your lips as you nod at him, “Mm-hmm, right there.” You lean upwards to kiss his cheek gently, emitting a soft smacking noise as you happily smooch him. “There.” You say more to yourself.
Jungkook’s eyes drop down to your jiggly boobs which are pretty much in his face at this point. Your camisole somehow dips lower as your tits sit perfectly pushed together to accentuate their size. He tells himself not to but his dick seems to say otherwise as it stirs up in the confinements of his boxers. He already knows he’s about to be sporting a hard-on by the end of this interaction so he gives in.
“Want another kiss..” He mumbles while licking his lips, “But not on my cheek..got somethin’ else you can kiss.”
Your eyes follow his line of sight and you come across the very prominent bulge sitting behind his sweats. Your cheeks feel hot from embarrassment as the familiar throbbing sensation forms between your legs. Jungkook sees this when you suddenly begin rubbing your soft thighs together while staring back at him through half-lidded eyes.
“Whaddya say baby,” he lazily grins, “can I get that kiss?”
You stare back at him with those sweet puppy eyes of yours and nod eagerly.
.
Lips smacking against lips and quiet little moans/noises fill the otherwise dimly lit car (God bless his Mercedes for the interior lighting). You were tucked away on his lap in the backseat of the car, windows foggy and all as your hand slipped from the glass. Jungkook could die a happy man right now with the way he had a handful of ass sitting in the palms of his hands. He gave your soft cheeks appreciative squeezes as he kneaded the flesh roughly—greedily.
His own lips were a bit swollen from the hot make-out session but he didn’t mind, you were one hell of a kisser. One thing he didn’t see coming was how much of a little sex fiend you were, he swears he can’t keep up with how needy and slutty you are. He almost finds it cute how you pout and beg for him to let you have it while simultaneously humping him and refusing to let him part from the kiss.
Jungkook raised his hand and brought it down hard on your ass cheek, relishing in the resounding slap noise and how it recoiled/bounced in place. A slutty little moan escapes your lips as you pull back and pant softly against his lips, “Take ‘em off,” you slur softly, “hate these stupid shorts, gettin’ in my way.” You mumble with a tiny pout.
“Gonna let me see what’s underneath baby?” He looks up through his hooded eyes, grinning when he sees you eagerly nodding back at him, “Yeah? Go on then, slide ‘em off baby, show me what you got on.” He smacks your ass and gropes it harshly, only letting go when you whine at him while unbuttoning your shorts.
He swears under his breath as soon as the button pops open and you slip the zipper down. The hem of your undies comes into view, he sees a tiny bow sitting at the top so innocently and he can’t help but wonder what the rest of your panties are like.. Jungkook reclines back on the seat and parts his legs to make room for you.
You manage to slip your shorts down your thighs slowly with your hips swaying from side to side. Jungkook lets out an audible groan when he sees the cheeky undergarment that was hiding underneath. “Well don’t you look pretty,” he comments while running his hand over your ass, “bet you look prettier under.” He mumbles while licking his lips.
“But what about your kiss?” You pout.
Jungkook smacks your ass wickedly, “Don’t give me that fuckin’ pout. Didn’t know you were that eager to suck my cock, ‘s all you’re good for isn’t it baby? Just a dumb little thing who needs her mouth filled huh?” He grins when he hears you moan, “You gonna be a good little cock sleeve for me?”
“The best,” you happily slur, “ ‘m gonna swallow every last drop, promise.”
He finds it endearing when you hold your pinky out to him, and not wanting to be mean he hooks his pinky with yours, “Good girl.” He brings you in for a gentle little smooch, “Gonna ruin that pretty face of yours baby,” he whispers in-between kisses, “get on your knees for me.”
Jungkook finds that he likes how submissive and responsive you are to him, makes it a hundred times sexier in his opinion. You sink to your knees in front of him without missing a beat, you have your hands set over his knees as you sit there waiting with puppy eyes. “Go ahead baby, ‘s all yours.” He chuckles.
You eagerly paw at his sweats and with his help pull them down alongside his boxers until his fat cock is springing out and slapping against his lower abdomen. Your mouth waters when your eyes land on his perfectly sculpted cock, now you wanna feel it inside of you more than ever. His cock lays against his stomach, flush at the tip with prominent veins on the underside of his shaft.
“ ‘s mine
?” You whisper breathily while pursing yours lips, “ ‘s so pretty..” You’re talking more to yourself as you grab ahold of his throbbing cock and bring the mushroomy tip to your lips. Your tongue pokes out as you swirl it over the head, moaning softly at the tangy taste.
Jungkook bites down on his lip as he watches with hooded eyes, he can’t believe his wet dreams are coming true. Did he save an entire country in his past life? Made sense with how lucky he was right now. He brings his tattooed hand over the back of your head as he simply rests it there, letting you explore his dick like if it was a lollipop or some shit.
Your lips wrap around the head as you make these sloppy little sucking noises. Trickles of saliva begin to trickle down his cock, you use it as lube to stroke his girthy shaft—twisting and turning your hand around it while you noisily swallow around the tip. Jungkook’s lips part with breathy sighs escaping him, he relaxes into the seat and leans his head back with his eyes slipped shut.
You’re working wonders on his cock right now with the way you’re slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. “Like that,” he whispers more to himself as he moans out again when you dip your tongue into the sensitive slit of his tip. Your strokes become slower but much more intense with the pressure you start applying. It’s getting a lot harder now to control himself from bucking his hips or something.
“Shit, don’t tease me baby,” he groans, “been thinking about your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock for weeks now. Knew you’d look pretty with a mouth full of cock.” Jungkook opens his eyes again to admire the view. “Open up for me baby,” he reaches down to thumb at your lower lip, “there you go—like that.” He grins.
He feeds you more of his cock watching as you eagerly take more and more until the tip hits the back of your throat. It sends you into a small gagging fit but the vibrations and pressure of your throat closing around him definitely sends zaps of hot pleasure down in his groin and lower belly. “Shit.” He groans loudly.
You whine around his cock and pull away to catch your breath, his cock slips from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Jungkook hisses quietly under his breath and reaches down to stroke his slicked up cock, “Messy little thing you are.”
“Off, off, ‘s my turn.” You huff cutely before swallowing his cock in one go now that you’re a bit more prepared.
It takes Jungkook by surprise as he groans loudly and throws his head back. You begin working wonders with that sinful tongue of yours, pairing it with some mean ass sucks. He lets his hand slip from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, just holding you there as he lets you do your thing. You begin bobbing your head slowly while noisily swallowing around his cock.
“Fucking hell y/n,” he whispers slack-jawed, you’re a damn menace. How the hell is he supposed to last? “You just needed something to fill that needy hole of yours didn’t you?” He pants softly, “Knew the moment I saw you that you were made for my cock baby. If only you could see yourself now.” He licks his lips and gives your neck a small gentle squeeze between his fingers.
You slurp up all the slick you leave behind on his cock, your hand sits at the base just idly gripping him while your mouth does all the work. You pull all the way up until the tip sits in your mouth before you swoop back down to take all of him in. He repeatedly hits the back of your throat but you do a much better job at controlling your gag reflex this time around. Your sloppy pace definitely has Jungkook moaning and grunting under his breath.
“Gonna cum,” he sighs, “keep going—like that.” He whispers as a full body shudder falls over him.
You eagerly pull off his cock and begin stroking him at a frantic pace. You watch with glee as his cock begins to throb in your hold, but you don’t let it deter you one bit. You’re eager to see him cum, you want it all in your mouth. “Like this?” You say this while squeezing around the tip and flicking your thumb over it.
Jungkook gasps softly, “Fuck..!” He hisses.
You smile deviously and bring the tip over your lips, “Or like this?” You whisper, blowing softly over his sensitive head before you take him back into your mouth.
Jungkook lets out a mantra of “fucks” and “yes’s” as he reaches down to grip his cock, his hand covers your own as he begins moving your hand up and down on his cock. You suckle at the head and watch as he comes undone. “Oh fuckkk..” He whispers as his cock throbs, cum shooting down your throat as you swallow around him greedily.
He slumps in the seat and pants quietly while watching you clean his dick with your sinful little tongue. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that hard in his entire life before. He saw the pearly white gates of heaven just now.. “A-Ah shit, no more baby, ‘s sensitive.” He chuckles breathily when you try to suck on his (slowly softening) cock.
You pull back with a cheerful smile on your face, the corner of your mouth has drool and a bit of cum but you don’t seem to mind, “ ‘s so pretty.” You coo like his dick is the most amazing thing ever, he watches you lean over to press a tiny little kiss to the sensitive head.
Are you even real??
“C’mere,” he pats his lap, “I saw the way you were humping your own hand like a bitch in heat the entire time you had my cock in your mouth.” He says as he hauls you up, “You also deserve a nice little thank you, don’t you baby?” He grins while stroking his hands over your soft cheeks.
You nod eagerly, “Mm-hm,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “do you wanna come upstairs after this? I wanna introduce you to my bunny Luna! Oh, and we can watch some anime together because I think it’s lame you haven’t seen Sailor Moon OR Death Note.” You huff in disbelief.
Little did Jungkook know that by saying yes to all that he’d end up staying for wayyyyy longer than he initially planned. You becoming (a important) part of his life was a bonus. <3
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TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111
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cheolhub · 2 years ago
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MEANT TO BE YOURS — JEON WONWOO àż
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summary. lying to your boyfriend about being sexually experienced has you stressed beyond belief. it’s a good thing your roommate— aka your best friend— is always there to help you out of every sticky situation.
wc. 7.2k+
warnings. [PLEASE READ THESE!] slight yandere themes (tame obsession, possessiveness, mentions of k1lling reader’s bf, etc.), corruption kink, virginity loss, f. masturbation, cheating (don’t do this), perv!wonu, NEEDY, DESPERATE dom!wonwoo, fingering, heavy praise, pet names (a lot ^^), very light degradation, so much dirty talk (literal filth), unprotected sex, size kink (if u blink, u miss it), kinda angsty ending (oops) — MINORS DNI 18+
note. ok so it’s finally here :p a few things— happy birthday wonwoo, my beloved <3 thank u keir @jeonghantis for reading this over for me, always reassuring me and being my literal rock. i luv u so so much ^^ lastly, this contains cheating which i do NOT condone, nor do i want to glamorize it. it’s simply for the sake of the plot. oj that’s all <3 i worked hard so pls enjoy it >< (if u dont, u should just lie to me anyway)
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you were perfect. so sweet and so innocent. you were a doll in the eyes of wonwoo, with skin so smooth against his calloused hands and a smile so perfect, he can’t help but melt at the sight of it. 
his adoration for you was obviously in moderation, he’s a sensible man after all. it’s not like he’d stand over you while you sleep and watch the way your barely-clothed chest rises up and falls down so enticingly or fuck his fist and imagine it’s your tight-virgin cunt milking him for all he’s worth or steal a pair of lace panties and absolutely ruin them. you’re his best friend not to mention his roommate. he can’t do things like that— it’s wrong. 
so why does it feel so fucking good to imagine how sweet your moans would sound while he fucks you senseless, “wonwoo! wonwoo!”
wonwoo maintains his cool even in the most unfavorable moments. when you leave your shared bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around your chest, when you walk around in silky night shorts, when you press your tits flush against him every time you give him a hug— it’s too much sometimes. 
he can't be angry, though, it’s not like you know any better. 
just like how you don't know how loud you’re being when you have one dainty little finger shoved inside your sopping pussy. he watches through the tiny crack of your door with his bottom lip lodged between his teeth, just slight of drawing blood. he sees how your eyes are screwed shut and your back is arched as you inconsistently try to fuck a single finger in and out of you. 
the room is filled with desperate huffs and moans, bouncing between the four walls of his old gaming room; it all rushes straight to wonwoo’s cock. 
you sound so needy and he can tell you’re growing frustrated at the lack of results. you’re craving release, he can tell– 
and he wants to help you. so bad.
he has to, right? that’s his job as a dutiful best friend— taking care of his pretty girl. plus, it’s not like he’s really doing anything wrong. he likes to think he’s just doing you a huge favor. 
he steps away from the door before knocking quietly, hearing the halt in moans and jostling of the white bedsheets he’s memorized the scent of. he stifles a laugh, imagining how hot your face must be knowing that you’re easily flustered. 
“just a second!” you pant and he’s so caught up in thought that he almost misses your soft voice, “okay
you can come in.” it’s as if you’re embarrassed, but you have no reason to be. it’s just him, your roommate. your best friend. your wonwoo. 
he finds that he was right. as soon as he walked in, he noticed your embarrassed face and he could almost feel the heat radiating from your body.
“won?”
his cock throbs in his loose plaid pajama pants at the name you had given him ages ago. “Y/N, i-i just wanted to check on you
 heard noises when i was passing by your room,” 
“oh
” you mumble, gripping the comforter covering your body. you’re sheepish, shrugging at his concern. “thought you were out with gyu.” 
your words are barely audible. you’re too humiliated to tell him what you were doing and, not to mention, how you were probably, most likely doing it incorrectly. 
“nah,” he shakes his head, reverting the conversation back to the massive elephant in the room. “anything on your mind?” he tries, moving to sit on the bed next to you.
you sigh, cracking the unfazed facade you wore. tears form on your lash line; you’re beyond embarrassed. mortified, if you will. this is probably the worst possible thing to happen in all your years of living. 
no, this is the worst thing to happen to you in all your years of living– nothing will ever beat you getting caught masturbating incorrectly by your best friend. 
“wonwoo
” you sniffle and he immediately stiffens at the unanticipated sound. “i just
 my
 boyfriend wants to start doing stuff with me and i lied ‘n told him that i’ve done stuff before, but i haven’t ‘n—“
“hey
breathe, Y/N,” he shushes, reaching over to wipe the tears from your eyes. as much as he’s concerned with your feelings, he can’t help but pause—boyfriend? since when did you have a fucking boyfriend? he knew you were going on dates and meeting guys, and of course he didn’t like it, but he thought they were flings that would eventually fizzle out. why wasn’t he aware of this dick? his chest bubbles with newfound jealousy and discontent. without a doubt, he’d kill the first ill-mannered fucker he saw put his hands on you. 
however, he plays dumb to hide the fact. “what type of stuff are we talking about?” 
you bite back a whine, a small pout forming on your face, “you know what stuff, won, don’t make me say it.” 
he chuckles, airily, shaking his head. yes, of course he knows, but he wants to hear you say it. wants to hear you say filthy things with your innocent voice that he simply can’t get enough of. “i don’t know what you’re going on about. for all i know, we could be talking about drugs,” 
you let out a giggle, playfully smacking his shoulder. “no!” you tell him and he gives you an expectant look. one that screams tell me.
your laughter dies down and you fall silent for a few seconds. you inhale sharply, “wonwoo
 he
 he wants to have sex with me,” you mutter, completely catching him off guard. “and i lied about having experience
 i’ve never even touched myself,” you say unwarranted, feeling your cheeks heat up in mortification once again. you hide your face in your hands after exposing yourself to your more-mature, experienced best friend. “god, i’m such a loser,”
“hey, don’t say that. there’s nothing wrong with being inexperienced. none of that’s important if you love someone.” the same way he loves you. “plus, a lot of guys like inexperienced girls.” he murmurs, mostly speaking for himself, though the only inexperienced girl– girl, in general– he likes is you. 
a sigh escapes your lips at his words, “but
 i don’t wanna be inexperienced. i wanna know what i’m doing and how to do it right
i wish i was more like you,” you frown, removing your hands to look at him, confusion prevalent on his face. “you seem like you’re so good at everything when it comes to
 that
kinda stuff
”
his throat dries, “h-how would you even know that?”
“well, i mean
you’re not exactly the quietest, wonwoo,” 
wonwoo is shocked, honestly. he knew he had a handful of hookups and one night stands, but he never thought you would’ve known that. 
besides, he always imagined them to be you riding him, crying for him. as much as he loves getting his dick wet, he would never see another girl again if it meant even one chance with you. 
it's a stretch. a big one, but if he could give you the earth, he would– in a single heartbeat with no hesitation whatsoever. “well
 then do you want me to maybe
 show you? what it’s like
? give you a good first experience?”
your body freezes and your eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. sure, you’ve always found your best friend attractive, but you figured that couldn’t be helped. you knew you never had a chance, not when he had an endless line of girls who would do anything for just one night with him. 
wonwoo is the definition of womanizer, he always has been. for as long as you could remember, girls would throw themselves at him and praise him like he was some kind of god. in some ways, you thought he was.
in all fairness, he was gorgeous and tall and strong. a catch, as some girls would say. he smelled good, too. so good it makes your head spin and your body flood with heat. and he had that rare smile– the one he’d only show the ones he loved– and it was blindingly beautiful. it was a smile that made you feel blessed. a smile that made you feel lucky because you were always on the receiving end– wonwoo always smiled at you.
he never pursued as many girls as you thought he would have. you always figured that’s what guys liked– all of the girls fawning over them– but wonwoo was so different. he didn’t like the attention that much, but, unfortunately for him, that’s what comes with being as handsome as he is. 
you knew he was out of your league. he was everything a girl would want and what were you in a sea of girls? a sea of girls with loads of experience and confidence, for that matter. 
you were just lucky to have him in your life because he really was such a good friend. he’s always been so protective of you since he met you all those years ago through a mandatory math tutoring session. nothing could ruin the image you have of him– not even the ear-splitting moans of the girls he fucks. you want nothing but for him to be your friend forever. 
and maybe you have imagined
 once or twice
 what it would be like to be one of the obnoxiously loud girls in his bed, but that didn’t mean you wanted it
 did it?
you try to play it off to see if he was pulling another one of his typical stunts on you. “wonwoo, this isn’t funny—“
“i‘m being serious,” he says so earnestly, leaning into you, the proximity between the two of you quickly closing. you feel like you should pull back, tell him to stop, kick him out— anything— but you just can’t. “lemme help you, sweetheart
 i‘ll show you how to feel good,” his minty breath fans over your face.
your body twitches, feeling a soft pulse in your lower region when the familiar pet name falls from his lips. your pace of breath quickens along with your heartbeat. 
“is
isn’t this wrong?” you ask. you want to scold your brain for wanting to do this with your best friend whom you live with. not to mention the fact that you also have a boyfriend.
yes, you think, this is totally and completely wrong. 
he shakes his head, “it’s not, promise, ‘m just helping a friend out
 only if you’ll let me,” his voice hushes to a whisper as his hand pulls the comforter off your body, a large hand moving to take a hold of your waist, the other on your bare thigh extremely close to the thin pink fabric of your absolutely-soiled panties. 
you’re left panting at the little contact, skin itching for even more. “wonwoo
” you whisper and it’s absolutely desperate. “wonwoo, w-what will i tell him?”
he feels his blood boil and he has to keep from snapping at the mere mention of that son of a bitch. he doesn’t even know him and, even still, he wants to bash his head in. “you don’t have to tell him anything,” he responds to you sweetly despite how angry and desperate he is. 
you won’t have to do a thing. he’ll take care of everything for you, especially that boyfriend of yours.
you contemplate your options, but it’s getting harder to have a coherent thought with his warm hand being so incredibly close to your needy pussy. 
wonwoo is just helping you, he even said it himself. if anything, he’s getting you out of the sticky situation you made for yourself. 
and so you nod your head, whimpering out the words. “okay wonwoo
 please help me,”
unbeknownst to you, wonwoo was hoping you’d say that. hoping you’d let him help you stretch you out (not for your boyfriend, but for him). help you take his cock. help you cum all over him and corrupt your pretty body. he’ll help you leave your boyfriend and realize that wonwoo is all you’ll need. all you’ll want. all you’ll know. he’ll help you, his best friend, his pretty girl, his fucking dream. 
your words trigger something in his brain and it’s all he needs before closing the gap between the two of you. the way he practically pounces on you and slots your lips together, it’s similar to a predator going after its prey.
it’s apparent you’re not as skilled as him as your lips struggle to keep up, whimpering at how rough he was being. you open your mouth a little bit to tell him to slow down, but instead, he pushes his tongue inside and explores the warmth and wetness of your mouth. 
and he can’t slow down. he can usually keep his composure and control himself, but you don’t even know how long he’s been waiting for this moment. if only you knew the perverted things your best friend had done without your knowledge, there’s no way you’d let him anywhere near you. he can’t stop, tongue inspecting every inch of your mouth until he feels your hands press flat against his chest in an attempt to push him away.
your swollen lips turn into a pout staring into his eyes filled with hunger and desire. “won,” you say, a lilt to your angelic voice. fuck, is all wonwoo can think as he finally realizes how hard and leaky his cock is after all this time. “can’t keep up
”
he almost feels bad, but every time he feels remorse it’s overshadowed by the burning desire to hear you, feel you, see you cum
 just for him, not your silly little boyfriend, that fucking asshole. he needs you to be his. 
“‘m sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, hands inching up your upper thigh. “i‘ll slow down, yeah?” his voice drips with desperation and, god, you feel your pussy flooding with more of your warm arousal. 
you nod, leaning into him again, pressing a kiss against his lips. his lips are soft as they mold into yours, nothing like what you’re used to. you couldn’t even compare wonwoo’s lips to anything– not even your boyfriend. 
you feel heat course your veins. everything is so hot, the room feels like it’s on fire. when did it get so hot? you want to hide in his neck, in your pillow, in something, but wonwoo gives you no room to be shy. 
the intrusive thoughts are cut short when you feel his warm hand slide into your panties, a deep gasp escaping your lips. his fingers quickly find your hardened clit, untouched and desperate for attention. the initial touch has shockwaves jolting through your body and you swear you won’t be able to survive anything more than that. 
you part your lips from him as his two fingers rub swift circles into your clit, timid whines and moans erupting from your chest and your eyes practically taped shut as you feel his burning gaze on your face. it’s when your hips unintentionally begin to move, grinding into his hand, softly moaning his name out, “wonwoo!” that he loses it. 
“fuck,” he mutters, removing his hand and watching your face of pleasure turn into complete shock. he ignores your whiny protests, gently pushing you to lay on your back. “shhh, baby, trust me. gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, don’t you worry.”
his hands peel the panties off you, rolling them off your legs and inspecting them– they’re new. you don’t need to know that he knows, though. especially since he is the reason you needed to get more.
nonetheless, he tosses them to the side. you’re sure if your judgment wasn’t clouded by the new overwhelming craving you have for pleasure, your body would burn in humiliation due to being exposed to your best friend. the same best friend who’s always been there for you and seen you at your very worst, yet continues to be there for you when you need him. 
with hearts in his eyes, he stares at your glistening cunt, “jesus christ,” he murmurs, “prettiest fucking pussy in the world, might have to keep you all to myself.” he knows the words are going through one ear and out the other, but the way you moan and arch your back for a single touch eggs him on.
“wonwoo,” you whimper softly. 
“yes, baby, what do you need?” he knows exactly what you need. you need him to rub your clit, press his fingers into your tight pussy and open you up, and you especially need him to tell you how well you’re doing– he fucking knows, but he needs to hear you say it. he needs your pretty little mouth to tell him. 
you pant, pussy getting wetter by the second solely off the pet names and wonwoo’s voice alone. “need you to help me like you promised
 please help me
”
and he can’t resist when you sound so needy. he’s 99% sure he could cum untouched just at the sight of you under him with tears in your eyes while you beg for him to touch you. you’re so perfect, so so perfect and he doesn't understand how no one has taken you away from him yet. 
“you want my fingers, sweetheart? want me to help you open up this pretty cunt for my cock?” he asks hotly, leaning in closer to your body. 
you gasp at his words, your leaky hole clenching around nothing. “god, yes, yes, wonwoo, yes,” you nod your head vigorously, shyness fleeing your body as you're taken over by pure need. “please gimme your fingers.”
he smirks at your words and his dick twitches at the request. he knows this moment will replay in his head during every second of the day till he can have you like this again. 
“good girl,” he whispers, pressing a peck to your swollen lips and keens when you chase him for another with a whimper. “brace yourself for me
 might sting a little, but it’ll feel really good after a while. tell me if you need me to stop, hmm?” 
you nod your head, stomach swirling with endless amounts of anticipation. the calloused pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing into it once more. you figure it’s to distract you from the feeling of his lengthy digit pressing into your hole.
a whine erupts from your throat at the tiny stretch that stings throughout your body. you take a deep breath, trying to relax as wonwoo pushes the finger in and out at a slow and steady pace. 
“doing so well for me, pretty. promise it’ll feel good when you get used to it,” he reassures with a tight-lipped smile as if he’s getting ready to burst at any given moment. 
that’s probably because he is. watching your tight pussy swallow his finger and wrap so nicely around him has him reeling. he thinks about what it’d be like to watch his cock disappear inside of you, for your velvet walls to wrap around him like you were made just for his cock. 
luckily, the sting fades away sooner than you thought it would, just as wonwoo had promised. your tiny whimpers of pain were soon replaced by pleasured moans, and he can tell that you’re ready for more of his fingers. 
he pulls out his middle finger to bring two of them together. you gasp in surprise feeling the pads of his two fingers circle at your entrance before they push their way inside of you. 
it hurts more than the first finger, you have to admit, but you take him in easily with the amount of arousal that pools out of your pussy. you pant, whines dying on your tongue as you feel the burning stretch. you don’t tell him to stop, though, not like you’d want to. 
wonwoo’s close to losing it. he can feel the way you clench around his fingers, almost like you're trying to push him out but suck him in at the same time. you’re so fucking tight and he thinks he must be in heaven. you’re the last thing he deserves, yet here you are, swallowing his big fingers in your pretty, virgin cunt. 
he gradually spreads his fingers, opening you up and the experimental move has you moaning. “that feel alright?” he asks almost breathlessly. 
you give him a broken nod, “feels weird
 b-but good.” you attempt to inform. 
you’re sheepish for a few minutes as he’s slowly scissoring his fingers inside of you, but the question comes out before your hazy mind can fully comprehend. “c-can you try three?” it comes out a bit slurred and timid, but wonwoo understands. he completely understands. 
he wants, so badly, to fuck you stupid. to the point where you don’t know how to speak. he wants to call you his greedy slut for wanting more even though it makes him see red. he opts out, though, not wanting your first time to be tainted with degrading words because he knows you’re  good. a good girl just for him. no one else. 
“oh, baby,” he coos, body filling with even more need. he presses his ring finger inside of you and basking in your cry all the while purring, “you’re doing so fucking well for me.”
you involuntarily clench at his words, back slightly arching off the bed as you moan. “wonwoo.”
he lets out a guttural moan at the sound of his name on your tongue. it’s the way he’s heard it in his dreams, the dreams where he’s ruining you for everyone else. 
wonwoo knows he’s crazy, trust, he knows. he understands the way he feels about you is abnormal, but fuck, right now? he feels absolutely, postively insane. 
“god, you’re so gorgeous,” he whispers, his mind slowly drifting. “so fucking pretty taking my fingers like this, taking ‘em like a champ.”
he thrusts his fingers into you with ease, stretching you effectively while being sure to rub at your sweet spot. he watches them disappear and reappear at your opening while also stealing glances at your scrunched up face. you’re such an angel.
after a while, the burning sting leaves and you’re left with an immense pleasure. you didn’t think it would get any better, but there’s an unfamiliar pressure building in your tummy and you feel the need to clamp down on his digits. it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before and you swear you’re on the brink of pure ecstasy. 
“wonwoo
 wonwoo,” you gasp, hand blindly searching for his wrist as your eyes screw closed. “f-feels
weird
 fuck! wonwoo!”
and wonwoo jus can’t. he can’t let you cum like this for the first time, it would be a crime. when you cum for the first time, he needs it to be on his cock.
he hates himself for doing so, but his movements stop. you gasp loudly, “no, no, no!” you cry out, tears forming in your eyes. you were so close, but it was unfairly taken away from you in a matter of seconds. “no, no, please keep going, please!”
“i want your first time to be on my cock, sweetheart, want you to remember it that way.” he says with his voice low. so low you can hear the beautiful rasp of his voice. “you want that don’t you? you want my cock, yeah?” 
you nod profusely, face heating up at his words and the way he articulates them. “y-yes
 i do.” you mumble. 
“that’s a good girl.”
you moan at the praise, hips bucking up again as he stands to slip off his loose pjs. when they fall, his hard cock slaps against his covered abdomen and you feel your heart skip a beat at his size. 
you gasp, sitting up as your sensitive cunt pulses once more. it’s so fucking pretty. you’ve heard your girl friends talk about how ugly and gross dicks were, a conversation that you never had input for, but after seeing wonwoo’s, you know they haven’t been blessed with the sight of one like his. 
he’s huge, for starters. it makes your tummy churn and swirl because you know he won’t be able to fit inside of you— not all at once at least. it’s long with prominent veins running through. the tip is flushed and leaky and he looks so hard it hurts. 
“won’t fit,” you whimper slowly gravitating towards him at the edge of your bed, eyes not leaving the throbbing member. “it’s not gonna fit, won,” you look up at him through your lashes and his entire body twitches as he looks down at your doe eyes. 
“and how do you know that?” he grabs your face with one of his hands, squishing your cheeks with his pointer and thumb finger. “you can take it, baby, don’t worry. i’ll be gentle.”
the tone of his voice drops an octave, and this time, you don’t believe him. there is something predatory about his words that makes you squirm and gush under his gaze. you don’t think he’ll be gentle, the way he looks at you like
 it’s like he’s about to have his last meal. 
and, honestly, you find that you love it. you love having him look at you like he’s yours and your his. you love his attention. you love having him like this. 
he pushes you back again, your back hitting the plush bed. you bite your lip as you see him join and tower over you. he flashes a smile and you slowly melt and wither away under him, body squirming a bit. 
he looks in between your bodies and realizes he’s not wearing a condom. his face drains of color at the thought of your cunt taking his cock bare. “sweetheart
 wait,”
your eyes widen and your lips form into a small pout, “what is it? what’s wrong?”
“need to get a condom,” he huffs and it’s apparent that he’s not very happy about the idea. he’s always worn one. every time. with every girl he’s ever been with. but every single time he’s imagined taking you, it was without one. he wants nothing in the way between you and him, but, of course, he needs to respect you and think about your safety. no matter how bad he wants it.
you furrow your eyebrows, “...why?” you whisper. 
this time, he mirrors your confused look. you’re a virgin, sure, but you must know what a condom is. “what do you mean why, angel? it’s pro–”
you shake your head, cutting him off. “i mean, why do you need it? are you
 not clean?” you ask worriedly. 
“no, of course i am!”
“well, don’t leave me here,” you mumble. “‘m on the pill now, so you should be fine without one
 now, please? wanna feel like i did before
 wanna feel all of you
”
wonwoo now knows he’s died. he’s died and now he’s in paradise. you, and all your beauty, laying under him with the prettiest pout, begging for him. for his cock. raw. everything he’s dreamed of is about to come true... if he doesn’t cum first.
“god,” he mutters. he takes his length in his hand, stroking himself before lining up with your entrance. “you want my cock then?” he whispers, dragging the tip up and down your messy folds. 
“yeah, please
 go slow
” 
he lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head before guiding himself back to your dripping hole. he inhales sharply, pushing himself inside, immediately entranced by the feeling of your warmth enveloping him whole. 
you wince letting out a soft cry of his name. he pushes past the resistance and you feel him taking something that’s been so sacred for as long as you could remember, but if you’re being transparent you couldn’t be happier that it’s him. you wouldn’t want anyone else to be in this position.
“fuck, baby,” he grunts with his raspy, deep voice that makes you clench even tighter around him. “fuck, so fucking tight, baby. so perfect.” he can barely trust his voice. it’s barely been five minutes, but he swears on everything he’s never felt this good before. 
you’re not even sure his fingers helped you enough because the stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. “hurts
” you whimper out, eyes screwed close to keep the pained tears from falling. 
he bites his lip to suppress a moan at the sight of you like this, instead asking, “you good, baby? need me to pull out?” he’ll die if you do, so he hopes you answer against the idea. 
“n-no,” you pant, trying to breathe your way through the pain. “j-just go slow
s’big, feel too full,” you reply, brain unable to give him complete sentences. 
his eyes almost roll at your broken words. “i know, baby, i know. you’re doing so well for me, hm? takin’ it well all for me,” he manages to tell you even though he’s twitching like he might explode within the next 30 seconds. 
his praise makes you gasp as you arch your back, a new gush of arousal coating his hard length. when wonwoo speaks to you like this, it makes your head fog. the validation and praise and the lovingness behind it all makes you want to have him forever. you want him to speak to you like you're his baby forever. 
it almost makes you forget that this is just a favor. that you have a boyfriend and he has a sea of gorgeous women lined up for him. almost. 
after a few more minutes of slowly inching his way inside you, he finally bottoms out. you’re already a bit sore from the stretch, but the pain recedes and he fits like a glove. like he was made to be inside you and you were made to take him and all of his glory. it only riles you up, your pussy tightening around him even more. 
he groans out your name, “fuck, don’t do that or i won’t be able to last, pretty girl.”
“‘m sorry,” you mewl. “can’t help it, feels so good, wonwoo,” you finally open your eyes to look into his. “keep moving please?” you pout, keeping your tears at bay. 
he can’t emphasize how close he is to spontaneously combusting and pumping you full just to fuck you over and over again. he wants to fuck you till your pussy’s raw and you’re begging for mercy. he wants to see your pretty tears, hear your cries, see you dripping in sweat and cum. 
he doesn’t say anything, pulling out slowly and pushing himself back in. you gasp, hands moving to tug on the fabric of his shirt in attempts to pull it off. 
“ah, ah, ah,” wonwoo reprimands. “can’t be the only one without a shirt, baby, you gotta take yours off first.” he smirks at your eagerness. 
you nod quickly as you sit up, still so full of him, peeling your flimsy tank top off. you free your chest and wonwoo groans when he finally sees them. 
“so pretty
” he mumbles, pushing you back down with a bit more force than you were expecting. one of his hands comes to squeeze the fat, fondling it like he’s wanted to for so long. his cock thrusts into you again a bit faster and you cry again at the stimulation. 
“t-take it off!” you beg, reaching for the shirt again. 
he chuckles, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the pile of clothes on the floor. once you see his skin, your arms immediately wrap around his neck pulling him down for a kiss. you imitate the actions of your first kiss earlier, opening your mouth to let his tongue in. you let him sloppily makeout with your own. 
it’s messy. a newfound experience for you. you’ve never had a kiss like this– never had a kiss where it felt like you were about to get swallowed whole. you’ve never had a kiss filled with so much passion, a kiss so loud where you’re moaning into someone's mouth and they’re moaning into yours so lustily. it’s your first. wonwoo’s your first for many it seems. 
wonwoo can’t say he’s never had a messy kiss because he’s had plenty. maybe a few too many. but, unbeknownst to you, he’s never felt so eager for anyone in all his years of knowing you– lusting after you. he wants this so bad. he wants you so fucking bad it’s making his throat constrict, his abdomen tighten, his dick twitch as it’s surrounded by your warm walls.
his cock fills you up so well and you feel like there’s a big possibility that you may get addicted to the feeling. now that the pain has subsided, you can feel the prominent veins pressing into your velvety walls. you can feel every twitch and his bulbous head rubbing right against that spot that’s turning your brain into mush. 
“fuck, baby, you’re so good,” he moans into your mouth, thrusts increasing in pace. 
“love it when you call me that,” you admit, mindlessly. you pull him in closer, nails digging into his back, imprinting red crescent shapes in the skin. 
he lets out a guttural groan, breaking from the kiss and looking into your teary eyes. “you like being my good little baby, huh?” he asks breathlessly and when you whine and clench around him, he chuckles. “i can tell, angel, pretty pussy is loving my cock– swallowing all of me like such a good slut.”
he didn’t mean to say it, but when the words slip out, your eyes widen. his expression mirrors yours and his speed falters. your pulse thumps erratically and you’re sure your heart is going to lurch out of your chest, teeth catching your bottom lip, biting and digging into the pillowy muscle. 
“i didn’t mean–”
“keep going
” you whisper, hooking your legs around his waist to pull him into you and return to his prior pace. “oh, won, please keep going.” your begs make him reel. 
your pupils are completely blown out now. like you’ve taken some type of drug and you’re feeling the euphoric effects of it all. you can’t wrap your head around why you feel the way you do because of one degrading word. 
jesus christ, he thinks to himself. he has to be in love. you’re so greedy, so much potential to be his gorgeous girl. he thinks you’re perfect for him– no, he knows you’re perfect for him. he’s confident with the way he fits in you and the way you trust him with your body. he can’t even care to think about your stupid boyfriend. you’re his now. his to fuck stupid and pump full of cum. his to punish and praise and pleasure. he’ll turn you into his own little cockhungry slut.
his thoughts get the best of him as he nearly blacks out at the idea of you being his. his hips snap against yours with a particularly harsh thrust and he feels his tip kissing your cervix and you sob out, “fuh-fuck!”
and at the sound of your sobs and pleads and curses, he feels as if he can’t restrain himself any longer. he sits up on his knees, hands grabbing at your waist with a vice-like grip that will likely result in splats of purple bruises the next morning. not like either of you could give a fuck. he relentlessly pounds into you, balls lewdly slapping against your sloppy cunt without a care in the world. 
your cries and his groans plus all the pornographic sounds your bodies make together fill the room, bouncing off your cutely decorated walls. he can tell you’re going to cum soon when your breathing picks up, watching the way your chest rises and falls at an alarming rate.
you suddenly remember how you felt right before he had snatched his fingers from you earlier. you can feel it creeping back up, the fiery knot in your tummy tightening. your hand finds the sensitive bud wonwoo was toying with earlier, gently rubbing circles into it. 
he notices immediately and grunts. “such a greedy girl already, aren’t you? i’ve ruined you.” ruined you for everyone else and it’s been the best thing he’s ever done, he fails to add. 
you nod, tears dripping down the sides of your face. “g-god!”
“not quite, baby.” he chuckles breathily. “gonna cum for me? hmm, baby? gonna soak my cock for the first time like the good little slut you are?” he rambles, his own orgasm– that he’s held back all this time– quickly approaching.
you mewl at the mixed praise and degradation once more, fingers working faster as your brain numbs. “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you slur. “oh, ‘m gonna
 wonwoo, ‘m gonna–!”
the words die on your tongue– the stimulation on your clit and the stimulation of his cock ramming into your sweet spot has you coming all over him. your back arches and your thighs convulse as you clamp around his cock. a squealing mantra of his name and curses flee your mouth as the tightrope in your tummy snaps.
you don’t think you’ve ever felt anything as euphoric in your life. it feels so good to let go and gush all over his cock while he fucks you through your orgasm so erratically. you can tell he’s close, too. a few more seconds and he’ll be making a mess. 
“ah, fuck– ‘m so close, baby, pretty pussy’s milking me for all i’m worth,” he moans out the warning. “love it so much.” he loves you so much.
you can barely hear a noise, let alone comprehend any of his words, so you just nod frantically as your sensitive body twitches under him sporadically. 
his thrusts go sloppy and before you know it, he pulls out, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. “fuck,” he grunts before he’s overtaken by the immense pleasure your pussy’s given him. he moans and lets out small whimpers as he pumps his cock, painting your sheen skin with his warm seed. he throws his head back as he moans out your name, “Y/N, fuck,”
he wishes so badly he could have came inside of you, but he’s going to make sure there’s another opportunity for that. he’ll be damned if he never fucks your cute pussy again. 
you whimper at the sudden warm substance on your skin. your eyes crack open to see your stomach covered in a sticky, white liquid– or maybe a mix between liquid and solid. your not sure you know how to describe it. 
you look at him as your mind comes to you. his hair disheveled, a few strays sticking to his sweaty forehead and the pace, at which, his chest rises and falls slows till it’s normal once more. 
when you come down, you suddenly remember your boyfriend. you were so sure you wanted him till wonwoo looked at you, made you feel special, took your virginity– now, you’re a mess. the mental image of your boyfriend fogs over in your head with words wonwoo whispered to you while he was fucking you. 
but you shouldn’t think about it anymore, right? everything was going to go back to normal after tonight, wouldn’t it? wonwoo will ever forgot this happened and he would bring some girl over when he thought you were gone and fuck her the same way he fucked you. you’d go back to thinking about your boyfriend trying to push the thoughts of your best friend making you cum over and over out of your head (it won’t work, but a girl can dream). all will be well. for one of you, at least.
“Y/N?” he mumbles. 
you look up at him and give him a small smile, “thanks for your help, won,” you whisper masking the sadness in your voice. “‘m gonna shower
” you don’t wait for his reply before you move off your bed. 
your legs are wobbly and your entirety feels sore. he really did a number on you. you whimper with every step you take and wonwoo quickly finds his pants and slips them on before rushing to your side.
“Y/N, c’mon, lemme take care of you.” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist to ground you and keeping your body from hobbling over. “get back on the bed, baby,” he whispers into your ear. 
you huff, physically unable to fight him on the matter and shuffling back to your bed uncomfortably. the ache between your legs and the nasty feeling of his release drying on your naked body were not a good mix. then you fucking remembered you were naked. you gasp, startling wonwoo, your arms wrapping around your body in attempts to hide yourself as if he hadn’t fucked you five minutes ago. 
“what’s wrong?” he asks, a look of confusion painting his face.
“y-you
 i
 i’m naked
” you tell him meekly, moving to lay on the bed again. “this
 is so weird.”
he smiles softly at your sudden shyness. “back to being shy, are we?” you frown at him and he just laughs heartily, your body filling with even more dread because– god. he’s just perfect and not yours. “‘m only teasing, doll, ‘s okay.”
you don’t reply, awkwardly shifting under his gaze. the pet name sounds so natural. like he’s meant to call you pretty things. like you're meant to be his.
but he’s not yours and you’re not his.
you stutter, words fleeing you in the moment you need them most. “wonwoo
 i-i
”
you look like you’re on the brink of tears, guilt wracking your body. wonwoo feels his chest tighten, breath hitching in his dry throat, “Y/N, do you regret it?” he asks, words hushed. he’s anxious. 
“no! no, no, i don’t
 i don’t regret it. i trust you more than anyone, wonwoo. i promise.” you say meekly and he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. “i just
 can we act like it never happened?”
the weight returns. heavier. it nearly crushes him. he couldn’t forget about this even if he’d wanted to. he’s already tattooed every second of tonight into his fuzzy brain. every reaction, every moan, every single word you gave him is all he’ll think about. 
he clears his throat, a shaky exhale slipping his lips before asking, “if you don’t regret it then why
?” he can’t even get the question out. he knows the answer. (read: the unnamed boyfriend– the one that he swears he’ll kill the second he meets him.)
you avert your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. “you know why.” 
he does. 
“and plus, we’re just friends. and roommates. it’ll just be awkward.” you cringe at your words because, unbeknownst to him, you don’t want to forget it. you know you won’t be able to forget it. not the possessive words that he spat during his sex-crazed haze, not the way his cock felt, not the way he looked at you.  
he waits for you to look at him, but you don’t. you can’t look at him right now. 
“okay.” he says coldly after sitting in deafening silence for over a minute. “consider it forgotten.”
he’ll make you his one of these days. you may not know it yet, but you belong with him. and he’d do anything for you. 
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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eccentricallygothic · 5 months ago
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Can we get more ellie and abby content? If u dont mind of course!! I just love the way u write them hehe luv u💞💞
Yes, you can! And thank you so much, I am just gay asf for them đŸ„Ž
Alright then, sluts. Let's do this!
Warning(s): D/S dynamics, Strict Mommy!Abby, Sadistic Miss!Ellie, possessive behavior, dacryphilia, use of strap ons, pet names, power imbalance, humiliation, doggy style, overstimulation, use of ball gag, spanking, brat taming. MDNI.
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Your nose itched from how it stung each time a thick drop surfaced over one of your eyeballs before collecting along the length of your waterline and then eventually slipping down the side of your face. The 3D floral pastel green dress that you had been excited to wear ever since Abby had brought it back from a scavenging mission was no more than a pile of heartbreaking tatters in front of you as you defeatedly fingered one of the frills that made up for its arm straps. 
“It's okay, babygirl” Abby cooed from where she was crouching beside the corner of the bedpost upon which you lay on your chest while weeping over the ruined article. “I promise you will have a new one real soon. Mommy will go further out if she has to, yeah?” The young woman kept trying to console you like she had been doing so for the past hour. But it wasn't doing either of you any good. 
The sight before you was too harsh. Too unfair. Too final.
“C'mon, babygirl. I know how you felt about it and I know how rare they are but it was just a dress” Abby's fingers were coiled around your locks while her short nails soothingly scratched at your tense scalp. “But you're gonna cry yourself sick if you don't stop soon” her eyes were sympathetic but at the same time utterly nonchalant towards the ball gag that both stretched your jaw and rendered you mute. 
“Leave the brat be” Ellie's stern voice came from behind you as you felt her scarred fingers tighten against your flesh from where they held your hips while her own snapped at an unforgiving pace to pound the vibrating strap-on in and out of your throbbing cunt. “If she thinks some tears are gonna absolve her disobedience and talking back then she's dead wrong” the cruel rap she gave to your blushing ass made you jump before another tear rolled out of your eye because of how your sensitive spot was punched in with the thick tip of Ellie's cock. 
She let you feel the vibrations for a couple moments before she pulled back just to pound into you again. You tried to babble out an apology around the gag, your cheek continuously rubbing against the relatively soft bedding from how your knees were being forced to rock back and forth with every loud smack of wet flesh against the material of the strap on. Ellie's fingers sought your cunt for the fifth time and you panicked the moment your fucked out brain registered it. 
She wanted another orgasm out of you.
Oh, no.
“Well, yeah,” Abby somberly agreed before she wiped your tears and moved your hair out of your flushed face. “That wasn't very nice of you, baby” the tenderness of her kind mien contrasted that of Ellie in such a way that you felt your insides contract at the realization. The tenderness of the older's featherlight touch was in such stark opposition to the younger's brutal abuse of your poor cunt while her fingers furiously flexed round and round your folds that you felt your loins bubble up yet again. “Mommy and Miss told you not to wear the dress outside the house and you didn't listen, that's no way for a good girl to behave, Princess” your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and your orgasm overcame you. There was heat and vibration everywhere on your body except for the soles of your feet which were ticklish and cold. 
Not only had you worn the short dress but you had argued with both women after some guys and girls had taken notice of you. Paying no mind to their checking you out and complimenting you, which Ellie had insisted was flirting, you had further dug your grave by refusing her demand for you to go change. The whole ordeal had made you grow so irritable that not even Abby's patient explaining had been able to persuade you. And then one thing led to another before a guy leaned a bit too close to you in the food joint and lewdly joked about helping them out with handling you since your brattiness was causing a noticeable ruckus. 
Next thing you knew, Ellie had dragged you home after punching the guy square in the jaw. 
“The brat will learn one way or another” she now spoke from behind you as she spanked you again before hooking an arm around one of your thighs and raising it up in a straight angle.
Forgiveness was not going to come easy.
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joszns · 1 year ago
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miss you, pt. 2 ✭
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(as requested by a few of you guys!!!)
college!ellie × reader
content: mostly the same as part 1 tbh
.
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ellie knocked on your door, her heart beating fast. her breath was hot and heavy, she did just run halfway across campus for you.
“ellie!” you exclaimed, opening the door. you were half dressed, a band shirt she had left at your place haphazardly thrown over your naked body.
she walked in, kissing you immediately.
“i love when you wear my clothes..” she whispered, both of you quickly heading to the bedroom. she kicked off her shoes on the way there, nearly tripping over them as she attempted to keep her lips all over yours.
“been thinking about you all day,” you mumbled against her lips, “was already getting off before you even texted me..”
she whimpered in response, both of you falling into the bed. her hands quickly found their way to your tits, massaging them in her hand.
“fuck baby, need you so bad.” ellie said, kissing your neck. you moaned, hands tangled in her short brown hair. she took her shirt off you, and you did the same to her.
“such a pretty girl.” she said, sucking your nipple. her free hand pinched the other one and rolled the bud between her fingers.
“ellie
” you whined.
her hand slowly trailed down your body, gripping your thigh as her thumb moved closer and closer to your sopping cunt.
“so fucking wet..” ellie noted, sliding down your body quickly. her mouth attacked your clit quickly, her tongue lapping at you like a starved cat.
“fuck
.” you moaned, gripping her hair and grinding against her face.
“taste so damn good.” she grunted, absolutely pussy drunk on you. she was a mess, licking every last drop of your juices away and whimpering as she messily rubbed away at her own sopping cunt.
“need you..need you inside.” you say breathlessly. ellie complies, filling you up easily with two fingers.
“my god.” ellie whined, curling her digits upwards in the way she knew you loved.
her mouth detached from you, she now towered over you as her nimble and long fingers worked their magic inside you.
“such a good girl, so fuckin’ good f’me..” she said, watching her slick coated fingers slide in and out of you.
“faster!” you whined, your hips jerking in the air.
ellie grinned and held you down, increasing her speed.
“you love my fingers huh?” she asked, taking your nipples in her mouth again.
“mm-fuck’n luv em!” you cried, desperate.
much to your dismay, she pulled out rather suddenly.
“sorry doll..need t’feel you against me..”
ellie slotted herself between your legs, grinding her swollen and slick cunt against your own.
“fuck, baby
” she moaned, pressing herself flush against you.
you bucked your hips upwards, slick dripping down your legs.
“so needy baby..yeah
that’s my girl
” ellie grunted, looking down at you.
such a perfect sight, your hair messy and spread over the pillow. your hands were clenched into tight fists, balling up the sheet. she watched as your hips rolled upwards, every movement causing soft moans to escape your lips.
she almost came right then and there.
“you feel s’good baby..” you moaned, head falling back as your eyes closed too. ellie grabbed the vibrator you had left on the bed, positioning it between the two of you and inserting the penetrating portion inside of you. you cried out, steady hips faltering as the pleasure increased tenfold.
“cmon baby, i know you can handle this
be good f’me.” ellie grunted, her swollen clit throbbing from the relentless vibrations. she rocked back and forth over you, the silicone hitting you in all the right places.
“im gonna-fuck!” you cried, struggling to keep rhythm with your girlfriend.
“yeah? cum with me baby, cmon.” ellie said, her movements getting more desperate and sloppy. “wanna see you cum so bad
” she said quietly.
you pushed upwards, biting your lip and whining as your orgasm crashed into you. you cried ellie’s name, body trembling as the stimulation on your sloppy cunt continued. ellie moved off you slightly, thrusting the dildo inside you with her hand while her other was used on herself, rubbing slow circles on her throbbing clit.
“i-i can’t..can’t anymore
m gonna
” you rambled, your third orgasm of the night approaching quickly.
“let it all out baby
came here to fuck you so good you couldn’t think and I meant that.” ellie said, watching you closely.
she watched as you came, crying her name and moaning loudly while burying your face in a pillow as your body shook. your legs wrapped around her waist, fluid dripping down ellie’s wrist as you released.
“fuck, fuck baby!” you cried, trying to escape from her thrusting. “m’done! m’dooone..!”
she slowed her relentless pace, eventually pulling out of your trembling body.
“sorry baby, you did so good, my good girl..” ellie whispered, kissing you between each phrase.
“I love you.” you said breathlessly, legs shaking slightly.
“i love you more.”
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watermelonlovershigh · 1 year ago
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Early Morning Baby SnugglesđŸ‘¶/concept/
AN: suddenly after writing this, i have baby fever, again. i hope you enjoy and remember to leave your feedback!!!
This story contains: pure fluff
{ dadrry - husband!harry - newborn baby girl }
word count- 509
After feeding and changing your newborn baby girl, you can't seem to get her to fall back asleep, so you do the one thing that you know will help with that.
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You'd just woke up to feed your newborn baby girl in her nursery down the hall. You sat in the rocking chair located in the corner of her room and held her to your chest as she sucked her meal from your breast. Once she unlatched, you thought you'd get lucky and she'd be milk drunk. But no, she just stared up at you with her big blue eyes, wide awake.
You burped your tiny baby girl over your shoulder and then stood up to change her diaper on her changing table across the room. Still, her eyes watched you curiously the entire time, sleep no were in them. Trying to think of what to do, an idea pops into your head. When you can't get her to sleep, the one thing that typically does the trick every time is being in her daddy's arms. Where she feels cozy and safe.
So once she's in a fresh diaper and her clothes are buttoned back up properly, you exit her nursery and travel back to you and your husbands room where he's currently still asleep. It is five o'clock in the morning. You make your way over to your bed and carefully slide into the covers with a baby in your arms. Then you scoot over to a sleeping Harry and gently nudge his shoulder. He's sleeping on his left side, facing you.
Harry didn't wake up from the shoulder nudge so you do the one thing you know will have him awake. You very carefully place your daughter in between your bodies but more so closer to her daddy's arms. As soon as the natural scent of your daughter wafts into Harry's nose, his eyes flutter open and he gives you a sleepy smile.
Your baby girl latches on to Harry's forearm with her tiny hands and with fatigue movements, he's instantly tugging her small body more into his arms for a better embrace. "Hi lovie, what're you doin' awake so early for? Hm?" Harry questions his daughter in a gravelly voice.
Knowing she can't speak, you whisper for her, "Woke up to feed her and couldn't get her to fall back asleep. Knew if she was in her daddy's arms she'd be asleep in no time."
Harry smiles at your reply and softly speaks to your baby girl again, "Yeah, want some cuddles from daddy? I'll give you some cozy cuddles, yes I will." And within a minute your daughter was passed out in the crook of Harry's tattooed arm and against his chest. Him still laying on his side and you now laying on your side, facing the two.
Quickly due to the peaceful state of the room, both you and Harry start to fall back asleep as well. Normally you'd never allow your newborn daughter to sleep in bed with you. You know, for safety reasons. But because its early morning and you'll only be asleep for an hour or two more anyways, you let it slide for the time being and enjoy some baby cuddles.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran
 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey
______________
My Masterlist Masterpost
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chrisdr3 · 1 year ago
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Hey! Can u pls do a fic with lando? With a bit daddy x bbygirl vibes!
Love you!
Rule breaker, brat tamer~LN4
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Summary: Reader gets horny and breaks the rules, while Lando finds them and decides to punish them.
Warnings: Smut, daddy x bbygirl, dom!Lando, angst, fingering, unprotected sex, oral (female recieving)
You were on your bedroom, waiting for Lando to get out of the bathroom. You were on your phone scrolling through tiktok when you saw a really hot video of him and started getting horny.
You couldn't handle it and left your phone in the nightstand, letting your fingers slide inside your panties, straight through your aching pussy, rubbing it gently. You didn't make any noise because Lando had forbidden you to touch yourself unless you are told to. You knew he would be pissed off if he saw you like that but you didn't really care.
You continued touching yourself and didn't notice the door open and him getting in, until he spoke. "You're such a naughty girl, thinking you could break the rules with me here." he said and you look at him nervously, fingers still in your clit. He was wearing only a towel and his shark tooth necklace, hair wet, brows furrowed and his jaw clenched from irritation.
"Baby, I'm sorry, please forgive me." you got up and kneeled down in front of him. He lifted your chin up to make you look at him "Babygirl, brats have to be punished. Breaking rules is not tolerant from me. Strip and get in the bed. Now." You did as he said and he reached you, letting the towel fall off him.
"Lando... please... I'll be a good girl..." You looked at him, eyes begging him. "That's not my name babygirl, now shut up." He pushed you down and grabbed your throat, while sticking two fingers inside your wet hole and stretching you. You moaned and he tightened his grip on your throat. "Shush babygirl, take your punishment quietly, don't let the neighbours know what a brat you are." His fingers made you come to your high easily and he felt that immediately.
"Cum for me, you little brat." You cummed in his fingers and he got them out, sucking them clean and positioning himself to your entrance. He got inside you without warning making you scream. He started thrusting deep and hard hitting your sweet spot, making you moan and feel close again, clenching around his rock hard dick.
"Daddy, let me cum, please." you cried out. "No baby, that's a punishment, not pleasure." He was thrusting hard until he was close and started getting sloppy and slow. He removed his hand from your throat and put it in your breasts, playing with your nipples, earning more sweet moans from your mouth.
When he was close to his high he decided to let you finish. "You can cum now brat." he let you cum in him and finished too, then pulled out. He then kissed you and lowered his head to your folds, starting to eat you out. "Mmm, you taste sweet, you little bitch. You make your daddy proud." You felt another orgasm build up in you. He feasted, not letting you release your juices, and once he was satisfied, he gave you the final lick in your clit that made you cum in his mouth.
He licked your sweet juices and kissed your neck. "Good girl. Hope you learnt your lesson." "Yes daddy, i did." He caressed your now sensitive pussy with his thumb, making you reach your 4th orgasm for the day. "Go get cleaned princess." He ordered. You tried getting up, your mixed cum leaking down your thighs, but your feet betrayed you and fell back to the bed.
He saw you falling and felt satisfied. "Did i make you sore baby?" You nodded yes. He got up and carried you to the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up, my little girl."
Hi! First smut here, i think it turned really good and hope you like it. I'm waiting for any requests you have luvs! Feel free to ask me.
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billybangbang · 5 months ago
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Billy Butcher Kinks:
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Predator/Prey Kink
He loves to watch you when you don't notice
Following you from room to room, waiting just for the right time to make himself notice
Gets a rush out of the hunt, whether it be the silent stalking or you trying to run away from him
Has this predatory smirk on his face, his steps assured, he already knows you will not get away
When he finally has you he will tease you mercilessly,
Caress your skin, breathing hotly in your ear, whispering about all the things he'll do to you
"Gotta be my good little girl and do as told, luv"
Nipple play:
Loves to make you take off your bra as soon as you are home
Keeps a hand on your tit at all times, especially while sitting on the couch drinking a bear and drawing lazy circles around your nipples until they get nice and hard for him
Likes it when you do it to him too
He does it not just out of pleasure but possessiveness. Holding your titty like it is your heart
So when you do it to him, it gets him hard as hell
Sensual play such as cold and warm
Taking an ice cube to your nipple, preferably on top of a white tank top and watch how your nipples get hard and your top see through
Tracing it down your body, watching goose bumps eruption along the way
He likes it when you lay him on his back and straddle him before taking a candle and letting the wax slowly fall onto his chest and tangle in his chest hair
The heat feeling too good on his skin and the slight pain of removing the wax from his chest hair even better
But what he likes the most is the feeling of you switching between an ice cube and warm tea in between sucking his dick
Sometimes, you blindfold him to tease him even more. He never knows if he will feel the coldness of the ice cube or your mouth extra warm from the tea you had swallowed
Massage Sex
He sleeps naked we all know that and so do you (I mean who would want to wear close around billy)
So when he has an off day you two spent it in bed, watching TV or talking about your week, he would slowly roll you onto your stomach and start out massaging your shoulders and back
Using the nice massage oil, trailing soft kisses down your back
He'd push a pillow underneath your hips and trail further kisses down over the swell of your ass and down between your legs.
He'd get you all oiled up and teasing you
Then stopping before turning you over
"Sh, Sh, don't ya worry, gotta take care of my favorite girl. All of you. Now you just keep breathing."
He would go on like that star from your leg massaging them up to your tights before skipping to your arms towards your breasts and down your stomach
Once he brought you to orgasm, it is your turn to oil him up, he had been rock hard for a while and ilthe feeling of him brushing between your legs, back, breasts had been driving you crazy
He would rub himself on you while you kissed and massaged each other
Honorary mentions:
He would go absolutely feral for you trying to seduce him. Looking at him through your eyelashes throughout the day, playing with a lollipop while looking directly into his eyes, dancing all sexy just for him. But ultimately, he would make the last move grabbing you when he finally had enough of your teasing
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago
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HELLOOOO can u do pietro macimoff reaction to seeing the reader in his shirt? im just CRAVING smut these days. THANKSSS, LUV UR WORK 💕💕
hiii!! thank you smđŸ˜© hehe I love it!! you and me bothđŸ«  thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
—
NOT YOURS
pietro maximoff x fem!reader
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word count: 454
warnings: 18+ only!! sexually explicit content (p in v, creampie, lil bit of aftercare) mdni
✧.┊ MASTERLIST
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Pietro loved you in his clothes, either snuggled up in his joggers or bunched up in his hoodies- he could never get enough. He loved how cute and cosy you'd be wearing his things, how naively you'd respond when questioned about said clothing.
He loved you in many things, his t-shirts being the primary one. So when he saw you walk around your shared apartment wearing only his t-shirt - that was the moment he finally had to do something about it. 
It wasn't long before he was stuffed deep inside you, slowly rocking into you as you splayed out on the bed. Your bare legs hooked over his hips as you trapped him to your body, encasing your arms around his neck. 
By now, his t-shirt lazily shoved up your torso, displaying a fresh line of love bites up your stomach. The fabric barely covered your skin as your tits peeked out from underneath, gently wobbling and bouncing with every slow thrust. 
His hands eagerly roam your body, pawing and clawing at your skin before seeking refuge behind your neck- holding you tight as he continued to slip into you, repeatedly hitting all of your plushy sensitive spots with the perfect curve of his cock. 
"I know, baby. I know," he coos beside your ear, softly suckling at the lobe. "You just feel so good," he murmurs, his breathing strained. "Just— so perfect."
You look up at him, eyes blissed and lidded as you slide your hands from the hold behind his neck, now cupping them around your tits. You palm them under the fabric, rolling over the doughy flesh and flicking at your nipples. 
Pietro glances down at your chest, and you immediately feel his cock twitch inside you. The action having more effect on him than you thought. He can't tug his gaze away, heavily concentrating on the lewd image of you toying with yourself, his focus honing in on your perk nipples, nubs protruding through the fabric. 
"God, fuck—" you cry out, cutting yourself short with a whimper, clamping and tightening around him as your climax breaks you apart.
Pietro follows mere seconds later, his orgasm stalling his movements as you pull him over the edge with you. Sloppily fucking his cum into you before stilling completely. 
He kisses all over your face as his hands soothe you, steadily roaming your upper arms and shoulders. He keeps his cock buried inside as he rolls over, pulling you with him before adjusting, wrapping your leg over his hip so you're even closer. 
"Come here," he says softly, dragging you towards him and encasing you in his arms. "Want you closer," he sleepily whispers, kissing the crown of your head. “Pretty girl."
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
pietro taglist: @astermath @thewinterv @earth-elemental18 @lunnnix @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @randomawesomeperson102 @queerponcho @selfryed @daenerys-supremacy @dontknownameauthor @mrsbarnesxxx @honestly-who-even-is-this @simplyreflected
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johnwickb1tsch · 7 months ago
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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 37 all chapters
WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘
You linger a little longer in the bathroom than John after your bath, performing those obligatory feminine tasks. Hair. Moisturizer. Nails... You are extra attentive to these things here, where personal appearance seems absolutely paramount. 
When you walk out to join him, wrapped up in your fluffy white hotel robe, you find him sitting in one of the chairs with his back to you, looking out the window at the city below. Cars flit past, people mill on the sidewalks. Manhattan never truly sleeps.
You lean your hip against his shoulder; automatically he reaches for you, his fingertips sliding up your thigh beneath the robe, making you shudder with the sweet thrill of his light touch tickling your skin. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring it. It takes you a while to notice he’s holding a little black box, turning it in his other hand. 
You’re not sure why the sight of it makes your heart sprint in your chest. 
“When the Camorra come
” He pauses with a long, tired sigh. “I want you to wear this.” 
He flips open the box with his thumb, extending it towards you without really looking at you. 
The object inside is bright and shiny, sparking blue fire in the low light. 
Your heart steps to the edge of a precipice and flings itself into a swan dive–you don’t know if rocks or water await below.
“Is that
an engagement ring?”
It’s a deco white gold setting adorned with a substantial–but not obscene diamond. You realize the filigree shapes are leaves and flowers–something that would become a nature girl like yourself. 
“Technically.” 
He doesn’t sound
happy. 
“In our world wives have standing; girlfriends are just fodder. I want them to know I’m serious about your safety.” 
His meaning dawns on you–and suddenly you’re not terribly happy either. 
“You want to get fake engaged?” 
“I won’t pressure you into something more than that right now, y/n. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” 
You realize the source of your own annoyance is that for a fleeting moment you’d thought it was real–and goddamn you for a fool, maybe he finally has truly fucked your brains out, but you know you would have said yes. 
“Where
did you get this?” you ask, looking at the little ring with all its grandiose meaning. It suits you to a T. He’d put thought into this
and it feels off. 
He’s quiet for a long time, before he finally admits, “In the antique shop, in Clear Forks. It made me think of you.”
You close your eyes at hearing this, suddenly dizzy. “When?” you ask, barely able to lift your voice over a whisper.
“You know when,” he answers, matching your volume. 
You think he maybe means in the interim when he’d locked you up like a princess in the tower, after your magnificent fight. Little did you know, that things had yet to really go to hell. “Were you
going to ask me for real?” You’re not sure why your eyes are suddenly stinging with tears. 
“I’m good with vows, y/n. Absolutes. The rest
has always been hard for me. I thought
that I was never a better man, than when I was a husband. I thought that was the man you deserved–the man I’d forgotten how to be. I thought I could find him again, if we
” He cuts himself short, squeezing the little box in his hand. You hear it creak in protest. “But now I see how selfish that idea was.”   
Maybe you should be relieved, that he decided against trying to bully you into a legally binding union with him–but as it stands now
it hurts, that he changed his mind. What a conundrum you find yourselves in. How things have changed, since he locked you up that day.
“Oh.” 
There must be something in your voice, because he finally looks up at you. “Honey
please don’t be sad.”
“I’m
I don’t know what I am,” you admit, making to go to the other chair. But he grabs you up before you can run away, depositing you across his lap. 
“I’ve hurt your feelings.” 
“Maybe?” 
You’re relieved that he’s arrived in this state of mind. You really are. It’s just
complicated.
If he had sprung this on you after you’d been isolated in the bedroom for days on end, pining for him, certain you’d ruined everything
 Oh. What a coup indeed. You might have agreed then too, but certainly not for the same reasons.
Or were they?
Can you trust your own judgment when it comes to this man at all?
“I’m just
trying to protect you.” 
In that moment you’re not sure if he means from the Camorra, or himself.
“I get that.”
“Then
?”
“I don’t know
” you sigh, snuggling under his chin, and you’re not lying about that. You’re tired, too tired to process this right now. “Will you hold me?”
He says nothing, just wraps his arms more snugly around you, and you watch the nighttime goings-on of New York out the window from the safety of your crow’s nest, together.
***
“What a lovely ring,” says Winston, seating himself beside you on the roof, Dog at your feet. You’ve taken to wearing it early so everyone can get the appropriate eyeful–apparently assassins are terrible gossips in their off time. And maybe Winston notices it, because you’re glaring at the damn thing like it owes you money. 
You just can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe it’s not such a big deal to John, because he’s been married before
but this is all new to you. You’re not the kind of girl who’s ever gotten caught up in worrying about marriage, or weddings, but this has unexpectedly hit you in a tender place. 
The decidedly tinny voice of reason inside you assures you that it would be bat fuck crazy to marry John Wick, after everything he put you through. But your heart? The heart wants what the heart wants, and that bitch is loud.
Maybe the trauma of all these extreme circumstances has simply fried your brain, made you want to cling to the man who seems like a safe shelter right now. 
But it occurs to you on reflection that maybe, John’s obsessive brand of love is what you’ve wanted all along. To be the object of his devotion, even to the point of madness–it ticks some primeval box deep inside your brain, and you wonder if a part of you somehow knew all along. You like it. You thrive on it. When you love someone you give them everything. Why should you settle for anything less on the other side, the way you always have, your whole goddamned life?
When your parents split and started new families it felt like they abandoned you. You went from being their perfect little darling to a mistaken product of a previous marriage.  Your mother would insist with an oblivious laugh that you seemed so self-sufficient she didn’t feel like she needed to take care of you anymore. That wasn’t how it felt to you, while your little world crumbled around you, and you know deep down your need to be liked by everyone is undoubtedly tied up in this somehow.  
Your need to be loved by John? For better or worse
it’s the air you breathe. How sad, how paltry a nice normal love would seem, after this. Maybe that’s not healthy–but it’s your truth. 
No other man will ever do for you, after this.  
“Yeah,” you sigh. 
“Are congratulations in order?”
“Sure.” 
You’re not sure if Winston is in on the ruse or not–it’s funny, in this world in which you’ve been told to trust no one, you find it hard to lie to this elegant old man. Maybe you have daddy issues too.
“I see our Jonathan’s tendency to monosyllabic conversation has rubbed off on you.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, sitting up in your seat, trying not to appear like a sulky teenager, sure you’re failing utterly. “It’s just complicated. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about the sculpted figures in the molding in the lobby, they’re very interesting.” 
Always keen to chat about his design choices in his beloved hotel, he proceeds to tell you all about it.
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dema-heart · 3 months ago
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slip chain necklaces
Hobie x gn! reader
Smooches
chain pulling
flustering and flirting
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“Welcome to
Hobie!?” you perk up behind the counter as he strolls through the door music shop you worked at. 
“Hey luv. Thought I'd stop by to see if you were busy.” He stopped in the middle of the store, eyes scanning the records and CDs there before he looked up chuckling when he saw you were already making your way from behind the counter. His eyes landed on the slip necklace on your neck, the one he’d given you recently after he'd broken one of his chain necklaces and taken the opportunity to add a lock to one end. 
“Totally busy. As you can tell by the large amounts of customers in the store.” you grinned as you gestured around the empty shop. You came to a stop in front of him, the tips of your shoes touching as you smiled at each other. You watched as he took you in, eyes roaming you from head to toe, your hand came up twisting the chain of your necklace around your fingers to distract you from the heat building in your cheeks from his gaze. 
“I see you like the necklace.” he teased a smirk on his lips as mischief shone in his eyes. Hobie watched you drop the necklace with a soft chuckle. His hand came up grabbing the chain. He let it slide through his fingers humming in thought as your eyes watched his hands. Your breath hitched, not considering before the other
uses for the necklace he’d made you.
“Y-yeah reminds me of you
and gives me something to keep my fingers busy when I get bored or uh anxious.” your voice cracked at the start causing you to clear your throat as you looked away from the chain in his hands. He was still trailing his fingers up the chain before letting it slide through his palm. It gently tapped against your chest in what would have been a comforting rhythm if not for how hyper aware you currently were of hobie's presence. 
He'd said something else that you missed. Trying to calm your racing heart and jittery body before he noticed. You turned your head towards one of the posters on the wall taking in the dates of an old rock band. You counted to ten making it to four before the chain on your neck was tugged. You snapped your head back to look at hobie wide eyed as you looked from the chain he now held from about chest height causing it to tighten slightly against your throat.
You never thought you'd find yourself in a scene like this. You'd heard of girls fixing their partners ties and tugging them down into a kiss with it before but this was different. Hobie forced your chin up by just the chain alone to make you look at him. 
“Eyes on me luv. I came all this way to see you and you're ignoring me” He rolled the chain around his finger causing it to tighten more, pulling you forward. You catch yourself by placing your hands on his waist, slipping your thumb into his belt loop as a way to hide your shaky hands. 
“Hobie!” You whisper shouted, you could feel the warmth in your cheeks as you looked around whispering as if someone was here to catch you two like this before you locked eyes with him. 
“Yes?” He whispered back, smiling cheekily as he loosened his grip on the chain. His eyes shifted from yours to your lips. You watched him suck in the corner of his lip, lip ring getting caught on his teeth before that sinfully charming grin is back. You snap your eyes back up to his, not sure when your gaze had shifted, just as he's leaning in. You close your eyes leaning in slightly as well but nothing happens and just as you're about to open your eyes you feel more than hear him chuckle, just a breath away from your lips.
“I'm gonna kiss you now. That alright with you luv?” His words fan across your lips sending tingles down your spine as you. You give a short nod leaning forward more causing your lips to brush only for him to tsk and pull back. The loosened grip on the necklace tightened just slightly causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazier than they already were.
“Words, luv. Need to hear you want to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss you.” His tone is soft and sweet even with such sinful intent.
‘honeyed poison. Sweet as syrup and just as sticky. He's got me right where he wants me, wrapped around his finger with no escape like a bug in a web
and yet’ you sigh as your thoughts race, opening your eyes to meet his hooded teasing gaze.
“There's nothing I want more than your lips on mine right now, Hobie.” You breathe the words out pulling his waist to yours as you lean in bridging the gap before he can say anything else or try to draw this out any longer.  
He drops the chain, instead bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks. You're sure he can feel how warm they are under his palms. How stuttered your heartbeat is as you stand chest to chest. Your grip on his waist never loosened as the kiss deepened. You trace your tongue against his bottom lip, lip rings smooth against the muscle before the bell above the door chimes and you pull away. You yelled a breathy hello toward the door, grateful they only waved and kept walking towards the side sections not seeing the two of you pressed against each other in the middle of the store.
 You glance back at hobie, his hands are still in the air where he was holding your face. He looks dazed, lips shining from your kiss, pupils blown wide swallowing the normal dark brown of his eyes as he stares at you. You glance to see the customer had moved toward an aisle you knew they couldn't see you both from so you took the chance to place a quick peck to hobie’s lips before leaning your cheek against one of his still waiting palms.
”I have to get back to work now, handsome. Are you gonna wake up or do I need to kiss you again for that to work? They do say true love's kiss cures all” you smile trying to ignore the way you feel just as astonished on the inside. It's always so rare to catch him off guard it makes you feel giddy, unable to stop the teasing tone or smile on your lips.
Hobie shakes his head that boyish grin you love so much taking over his shocked expression. He leans in this time pecking your lips before kissing each of your cheeks. “Don't go getting cheeky on me now.” Fake annoyance drips from his tone, the smile on his face giving him away.
“One for one Hobart. You fluster me. I fluster you” you tease in a sing-song voice ducking from his grip when he goes to kiss you again. You laugh as he pouts before hustling up to the counter making it just in time as the customer from earlier walks up. You start checking them out looking up to see hobie waving bye as he points at his watch rolling his eyes. You try to hide your smile waving bye back with a mouthed I love you.
“I love you too! See you when you get off,luv!” He shouts as he walks out cackling at your bewildered look that quickly morphed into a sheepish grin as the customer giggles at you two.
”You two are so cute together. I took as long as I could to let you guys get some more time together. If I had someone as handsome as him I wouldn't keep my hands to myself either. Work be damned” she winks at you as you hand her change.
After she's left your head hits the counter, embarrassment catching up to you finally. The chain rattles against the counter and the heat in your cheeks burns warmer as you think back to Hobie’s earlier affections.
“Two to one Hobart” you mutter as you try to calm yourself to get through the rest of your shift and think of ways to get him back.
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