#and take me or leave me from rent but whatever
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I'm sorry??? "If I Loved You" was inspired by the fucking GOOFY MOVIE???? Fucking "Eye to Eye" from the Goofy movie??
#and take me or leave me from rent but whatever#fucking Jeff Blim guys#starkid#nerdy prudes must die#npmd#hachetfeild#peter spankoffski#steph lauter
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I know I haven't said much about it, but legitimately, "running away" was one of the most pivotal life decisions I've ever made. Probably THE first major life decision I've made, and also the best. If you have an opportunity to go, leave. Get out of there. If you are not safe at home, emotionally, physically, whatever, and you're able to leave, do it. It's going to suck such major ass for a while because you're going to have to deal with the scars they've left on you, but I wholeheartedly, full-throatedly, with-my-chest promise you that it is going to be better. You're going to be better. If you have the privilege of being able to escape, no matter how difficult it feels, then RUN.
#whatever you leave behind is not your responsibility. sometimes you're gonna have a fucked relationship with the siblings you 'abandoned'#but they have to understand that you had to leave. and that you were actively fighting to take them with you the entire time#it's okay to be selfish. you need to be selfish to start to recover.#if you have to be homeless please look up and do your research on local resources first. plan things out.#i was lucky enough to have family who'd been waiting years and years for this moment to happen#if you can go and have your college dorm as a safe haven then absolutely take that chance#if you can go and rent an apartment with the money from your job then take that chance#plan shit. do it. even if your brain fights you. you do not want to be out there without proper precautions or else you could end up-#-seriously fucked over.#also i know i'm encouraging people to get out but in equal measure:#if it isn't safe to leave you are not lesser for staying.#if it's winter and you can't be out there alone you are not complicit in your own abuse yk?#if you have family you CANNOT leave behind like extremely young siblings then you are not at fault for staying.#i was lucky enough to be able to leave quickly and (relatively) painlessly and i'm aware that not everybody can do that#sometimes staying IS the better choice. but that's a choice YOU have to make not me#assess your situation properly. are you staying for your own safety or because you're scared?#etc etc. obviously take all of this with a grain of salt i don't have all the life experience in the world just what little i have#also: prepaid phones are a godsend. MRIs. canned food. make sure to have first aid kits if needed. plan ahead. have a stash somewhere safe#rox rumblings#me things
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Answering dis ask chopped up too
thank u, but my situation isnt that dire! Thats where half the problem comes from, i struggle because its really not that bad here, i just would like to leave for the regular reasons anyone would wanna leave home (+ being trans), that joke about what you dont pay in rent by living with your parents, you pay with your mental health etc etc
#talkys#anonymous#skunk mail#i wldnt call it abusive by any means...just annoying#like today's Last Straw is ive gone years without frequent human contact bc i dont make online friends#and all my irl friends are busy or have moved. ive hung out with a new online buddy like 3 times this month#told my dad im busy today watching movie with them so i cant go to target with him and now him and my mom are#getting into my business about who this is and why theyre more important and how I cant be doing this or w.e#its just Annoying. i just want to be able to do whatever i want without worrying i want privacy etc#not sure thats worth a job i hate and struggling to make rent but it is annoying and Toll Taking#oh also we're watching the saw movies and i mentioned this bc he interrogated me on what im doing with this friend#and then he made comments about how i shldnt be doing that bc those movies are awful#this is the same man who introduced me to the beatles as a child then banned me from listening to them as a teen#bc theyd have demonic brainwashing influences or some shit#im just tired im simply tired#i found out recently even the favorite child (my brother) has issues with them and thats whats made me want to leave more like#im not strong enough to withstand it if even the favorite cant. im jst tired i want to leave
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got my freakin outer wilds vinyl yesterday AHHHHH LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL FOR REAL
#ITS SO GOOD TO ME taking it to campus 2day to scan in the sleeves.......#i ust hw3tgjg3hig9bgi3op2tojbgio AUWH3T89GBIO3WU9TYLBJIEG4HHBKJW4T9JBG FUUUCK ok sorry i just like#would like to save up for another turntable bc the one i have rn is at least 3rd hand got it from my friend 4 free#shes a little broken but she works just fine its audio quality leaves a bit 2 be desired tho. but shes so cutie.#saw the Technics LP120 as a recommended cheap starter turntable and thats like $350. *checks the website* WHAT DO U MEAN DISCONTINUED#whatever anyways i gotta start saving up but thats ummmmmmm probalby not gonna happen for a while with my two minwage jobs going str8#into bills / rent / groceries etc. but in my back packet for now ok.#i dont know anything about music dont fucking ask me#eff
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i always put polls up but i'm also chronically curious and impatient. but i don't want to skew the results. this is simply one of life's many small challenges
I can merely offer a temporary respite; if you take it, it might only let the temptation grow beyond its previous bounds.
#While Mochi feels like a sweater guy to me and that one Minecraft skin with some confusing layers lives in my head rent-free#I can’t envision them in the turtleneck. However#Jochi Real#I love a fun button up either way but no. 1 feels like a more comfortable silhouette#No 3. leaves you completely vulnerable#Totally not biased to it being nigh identical to what I wear when I’m morphing into my final form (stranded on some sort of tropical island#I wear a dressed down version of takeover’s no. 1 on like any random Tuesday. She’d be me if anyone besides Shein produced argyle#I think about the Mary Janes that I grew out of biweekly#I only understand like half of the silhouettes of everything in no. 3 but I vibe with it#I think Peppermint should wear Bloom’s reboot outfit piece for piece#/hj. They all look right and nice but 1 & 3 are slightly stronger. he needs some hard shapes and they feel like sharper angles#for whatever reason#though for the hair clipping back one of your bangs is more fun#I don’t know why I’m saying this like I am someone any rational person should take fashion advice from#I <3 mg au
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bro i remember being young and my grandma telling me if i dont learn to clean my room then i wont do it when im older. while there is some truth there what she did not account for was the audhd
#hated cleaning bc i didnt have proper places for stuff#my grandma would clean my room for me when she deemed it too bad which meant shoving everything out of sight and#throwing away what she thought was trash#now i can actually fucking designate places for my stuff where i can trust it will stay there and i desire to keep the place clean bc it#puts me in a better headspace#the demand avoidance though! the object permanance issues! the executive dysfunction!#now i can avoid all of those by 1. taking adderall LOL but also#putting things in plan sight#the only things that go in drawers are things that have specific or regular use#like i have drawers for my art supplies#clothes in drawers kitchen stuf fin cabinets etc#but stuff that can easily be forgotten i keep in plain sight#i keep a binder with all our important documents#its just much easier starting from scratch with a place and being able to actually learn to manage my self and posessions#plus adderall. ithonestly helps create new coping skills though likeim still adhd on it but i can regulate better which means forming#pathways and stuff#idk!#i love sharing a place with people who at least have a certain respect for my things#even if the roommate that isnt my husband doesnt have housekeeping sense god gave a goose (<- stole that one from my great grandma)#i mean good lord ive never seen anyone go so long without cleaning#Anything#At All. Ever.#like BRO MY HUSBAND AND I BOTH HAVE ISSUES WITH DEPRESSION AND EXECUTIVE FUNCTIONING AND IMPULSE MANAGEMENT#BUT WE DO NOT BUY DELIVERY ALMOST EVERYDAY THEN COME UP SHORT ON RENT!!!!!!#nor does our room emanate a Stink#nor do we habitually leave trash out without (also habitually) picking it up#like i get it yk? but in common areas dont leave your trash around Constant#i get a wrapper or box on the counter or whatev.. but you just do a pass through occasionaly where you pick your stuff up and throw it away#or at least get it in one place#idk how i got into this my roommate pisses me off. also the type of motherfucker to have opportunity stare him in the face and reject it
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18+, minors dni! (being a slut for nanami bc honestly who isn’t)
authors note: hello! this is my first-ever post, i hope you guys enjoy it! (I literally have no idea how layouts work yet, bear with me)
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sugardaddy!nanami who scolds you whenever you feel as if you’re “doing too much,” with all the lavish gifts he gives you. nothing is too much for his angel.
sugardaddy!nanami that asks which jewelry set you like best. emerald or ruby? ah. how about both?
sugardaddy!nanami who you thought would be a joyless, serious man as people portray him. they’re not lying, he really is serious, to people that aren’t you. you’ll witness a soft side of him that only shows the most gentle of smiles.
sugardaddy!nanami who gladly scoops you up bridal style in his arms, walking while you burry your head into his chest.
sugardaddy!nanami who unpacks the gifts he gets you on the countertop after a business trip. “kento, baby, you shouldn’t have.” you play with the polyester ribbon while he simply leans back on the fridge opening up a beverage. “I couldn’t help but have the prettiest woman in the world waiting for me at home. it would be embarrassing of me to show up empty-handed.”
sugardaddy!nanami who for the first few times that you went out with him, meticulously kept track of the things you called “cute” and noted wherever your eyes wandered for a minute too long. the next morning you woke up with everything you ogled your eyes at decorating your room. attached is a note that read, “please forgive me, sweetheart, I didn’t know which you liked best. p.s. my sincerest apologies again, I let my own thoughts get carried away. be good for me and wear this tonight.” your fingers gingerly held onto the note, until your eyes fell on two things you don’t remember looking at when you went out shopping. a beautiful silk gown and an expensive lingerie set.
sugardaddy!nanami who will gladly kneel to strap your heel, placing a kiss on your ankle, after trailing his hand up and down your shin.
sugardaddy!nanami who sends you a monthly allowance for your hair, nails, skincare, and whatever you desire.
sugardaddy!nanami who thinks indulging in materialistic things is futile, but he wants to see you decorated in every fine piece of fabric, clothing, and accessories.
sugardaddy!nanami who acts as if he’s unbothered by you curling up on his lap while he types away on his work computer. you couldn’t even tell how much he adores every second of this as he idly types away. he loves to have you pushed up on him all the time, the minute you slightly move? a strong hand is placed on your thigh or waist to prevent you from leaving.
sugardaddy!nanami who’s only condition is to continue this dynamic until you’re unhappy or want nothing to do with it. (you literally want to marry this man but okay).
sugardaddy!nanami who has a saturday night ritual with you where you buy the most extravagant of desserts and feed it to each other. oh yeah, you have to be sitting on his lap the entire time while you both feed each other from the same fork.
sugardaddy!nanami who places his nose on the nape of your neck while you’re seated on him as he sharply breathes in your scent. “as much as I enjoy eating sweets with you,” he said in a whisper, “they could never mimic your taste.”
sugardaddy!nanami who started off paying your rent, bills, and utilities which he felt mentally, secretly disgruntled by. not because he’s paying (duh) or he has to take care of you, it’s just the fact you haven’t moved in with him yet.
sugardaddy!nanami who considers you under his care and deems your wellbeing as his responsibility. you’re hurt? point to where. your body is sore? lay back down while he massages you. you’re hungry? food is being sent over and here’s money for grocery shopping. you’re upset? he kneels down in front of you as he attentively listens to your sobs.
sugardaddy!nanami who supports your hobbies. he’ll drop off little things that he knows have to do with your interests and only says, “you like this don’t you?” you name drop pilates, cooking, art, knitting, whatever it is, he signs you up for the nearest classes.
sugardaddy!nanami who actually notices if you did something different with your hair, if you wore a new shade of lip gloss. little things.
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sugardaddy!nanami who places the most tender of kisses onto your forehead like he didn’t wreck your shit a second prior. “such a good girl… i’m so so proud. taking my cock in so well.”
sugardaddy!nanami that plays with your body in subtle ways. hands? his big, veiny fingers are stroking yours gently. thighs? constantly getting gripped. your waist? a strong arm wrapped around it. your cheek? a thumb stroking it. shoulders? relieving tension from it. collarbone? rearranging your necklace so it lays properly. guts? fucked out of place. makeup? smeared all across his luxurious bedsheets. lips? blown out from sucking his monster cock and making out.
sugardaddy!nanami who rents out an entire summer beach house with a glorious view of the ocean. partially because he likes the privacy of you two alone, surrounded by nature, and romantic sunset dinners. also because he wants to watch you ride him while he leans back on a beach chair without disturbing the public. (nobody is allowed to see what’s his).
sugardaddy!nanami who actually pounded you into another dimension, your mind still in a haze while he carries you to the running bath. “stay with me princess, i need to clean you up.”
sugardaddy!nanami who makes sure you finish several times before he does. oh poor baby, you’re out of breath? would you like some water? we’re not finished yet. poor nanami didn’t get to cum once, and you so badly want him to use your body to do so.
sugardaddy!nanami who buys you a personal collection of sex toys to play with when he’s not there. he personally studies the way your body twitches and convulses with certain toys, he needs to know how to please his princess. sometimes he chuckles to himself because he knows deep down, nothing– no one, can please you the way he does.
sugardaddy!nanami who sees you stressed or crying over school and work and quickly replaces those tears with ones of joy.
sugardaddy!nanami who will have you folded like a damn lawn chair and only whisper sweet nothings while drilling into you.
sugardaddy!nanami who has a high sex drive but hides it in the beginning like the gentleman he is, making sure you feel comfortable and safe.
sugardaddy!nanami who gives you the car you’ve been wanting forever. you ride the car for a bit with him ecstatic, kissing him over and over, giggling. you both quickly found a new way to celebrate. you’re pinned down over the glove compartment, one large hand gripping both of yours as they’re pinned to your back, and the sounds of skin slapping with your loud moans mix in the air. “ke-n-toooo~ I-I don’t want to ge- uh! It m-messy in h-ere…” “don’t worry darling, I-” a low grunt comes out, “i always cum inside dont I?” he quickens up the pace only to have you screaming like a whore. “t-that’s it. just take it. It feels good, I know,” he mercilessly pounds into you, kissing your temple, “just come undone on me, that’s it. make me proud.”
sugardaddy!nanami who texts you to quickly come to the office and sends you a cab for an urgent “visit.” why? he’s stressed and his favorite method to cool down is your throat expanding around his girthy dick. he'll grip the strands of your hair while cooing at you, "i know angel, i know. but you look so beautiful right now, don't stop."
sugardaddy!nanami who groans from the stressors of his job, turning his attention to you while he pushes himself back on his chair. he looks down on his bulge before sighing and tugging his tie down left and right. “go ahead. come suck me off, i need it and I know you want it too.”
sugardaddy!nanami who does the whole pillow underneath, hand pressed on lower abdomen, with a vibrator wand abusing your clit.
sugardaddy!nanami who has a diet that consists of devouring your pussy on a regular basis. “b-babe… i- ah! s-slow down,” as you elicit a loud dirty moan that fills the room, “pleaaaase.” if only you knew he takes more pleasure out of this than you and you’re the one gripping his hair to the point of leaving his scalp red. he further pushes his nose into you, mumbling, “beg all you want, I’m not done.”
sugardaddy!nanami who is a gentleman, really. who will kill anything within 5 meters if it remotely threatens you. but he can’t help but admire the way your little cunt can’t fully take it the first few times together.
sugardaddy!nanami who never thought much of daddy kinks, but when he hears “daddy” slip out of your precious mouth, his heels dig deeper into the mattress, his massive body weight shifts crushing you, angling his dick in an almost sinful way while pressing you deeper into a mating press. “say it again.”
sugardaddy!nanami who watches you squirm with a vibrator jammed to your clit and his tongue lapping up and down your cunt like any separation from his tongue and your pussy will cause his death. “k-kento s-stop this feeli- ah! I th- oh god! I think I need to pee!” he can’t help but chuckle in his head. his baby never squirted before until now.
sugardaddy!nanami who secretly wants to get you knocked up. man loves fucking his cum into you. he has such a big breeding kink that you catch on.
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#jjk smut#jjk x reader#nanami kento#jjk x nanami#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen smut#sugar daddy nanami#jjk#nanami kento x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento fluff#nanami fluff#jjk x you#nanami smut#kento x reader#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento x you#jjk fanfic#nanami fanfiction#jjk fic#sexbot300 writes
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stalker!Simon decides to have a little fun with his favourite camgirl.
the message comes up halfway into your "show."
it's a boring night. slow. you wear a lingerie set one of your viewers sent in beneath a silk robe, all in a pretty pastel pink—cliche, but it works; an uncomfortably disgusting version of hair theory unfolding in front of your eyes—and discreetly chug wine when you twist away to grab a new toy. a series of pale pink vibrators, nipple clamps. mundane depravity for what's shaping up to be a lacklustre night.
but the money that pours in from these little shows (adult version of classic party games—hide and seek, would you rather, truth or dare) is one step closer to erasing your debts. student loans. car payments. rent. you smile so wide it aches, and put your best face on when you blink, coquettish and coy, at the camera where nameless, faceless men throw money in a ring for a scrap of your attention.
tonight's game is Simon Says. and it's supposed to be normal. boring.
but a message from a viewer named Simon (in a sea of many who cheekily changed their usernames to match the theme of the game) stands out.
Simon says... go lock your door.
you blink. between all of the Simon Says touch yourself for me baby, pull your shirt down, lemme fuck you for real it sticks out. a change in the routine.
you huff, pouting. "already did that, Simon. c'mon, gimme something else to do, honey."
another one pops up. Simon says... you shouldda got a dog.
your brows furrow. "that's not part of the game, Simon. i'm gonna move on—"
Simon says... open your door.
he's paying you handsomely. dropping coins, large amounts of money, for each message to shoot to the top. little superchats. why he isn't taking advantage of it and paying you to do something sexy, something lewd, unnerves you. your heart starts to race, thudding against your ribs almost painfully.
it's fine, you think. he's just a creep. a loser. "uh huh, not part of the game, Simon. i'm afraid i'm gonna have to cut you off—"
you block him. they don't normally get under your skin like this. ever. at all. even when they throw random names in your dms, hoping one of them happens to be yours, and try to blackmail you to your fake friends and family. it doesn't bother you as much as this. as him. get a dog. how absurd.
the next series of chats pass without the same odd comments. take your bra off, but leave the robe on. act coy, like you don't want to—
creeps, you think, in their own right. but. paying ones. so, you smile. stiff. uncomfortable. grinning so wide it hurts. pretending to ignore the strange unease growing in your guts. your eyes sliding back to the superchats saved in a glowing log. let me in. a troll. whatever. it's nothing. nothing. you'll drink wine after this, scrub your skin raw in the shower and buy yourself something pretty with the money these greasy losers threw your way—
Simon says... let me in.
you feel your heart in your throat. it can't be him. you blocked him. you have mods to keep trolls out of your chats, but wonder—hopefully—if maybe it failed. maybe they found your stream are just being weird. strange. but when you check, the filters are on. he's a registered user. paid the premium to watch you. to get an invite to your special game nights. it makes it worse, you think, that he paid to be here. to do this.
your hand shakes. you block this user, too, ignoring the discomfort churning inside your chest. the fear spiking along the nape of your neck. hair raising. there's a prickle on your skin. the feeling of being watched
no. it's fine. you're fine—
"ah, what else should i do, Simon?" you ask your viewers, pulling on another smile. one that hurts. aches. wobbles around the edges. you'll end the stream in a few minutes. order Thai food. drink yourself stupid. take the day off tomorrow. use this creeps money and waste it. blow it on something stupid. dumb. laugh about it with your friends.
your shoulders dip. the tension easing. you're fine. you're at home. the door—
you locked it. right? you definitely, absolutely, locked it when you brought in the package from the delivery driver. the massive, hulking man who loomed in your doorway, too wide, even, to fit inside, and growled out in a low, brassy timbre: sign 'ere. you took the pen, pretending he wasn't drilling holes into you with his gaze, eyes liquid in the dark. intense. wanting. and then scurried inside—
back pressed against the door, hands wrapped around the lingerie set.
you glance at the chat. "which Simon bought me this cute set? i'd like to thank them personally," you murmur, forcing your shoulders to drop. it's fine. you live in the middle of nowhere. no one is coming to your door.
there's no takers in the chat. you shift on the chair, licking your lips. "it's really cute, Simon. a perfect size, too, and i just—"
something catches your eye in the corner of the monitor. a movement. a slight shift. a whisper of fabric. you tilt your chin, peering into the hazy black reflection.
what you're looking at doesn't make any sense. your bedroom door is open. a curtain of black drapes over the wall where the pale strip of light doesn't reach.
the washroom light is still on, a yellow spill illuminating the hallway, but nothing is there. no one is in the hall. but you know you closed your door. you always do when you stream. your heart trips over itself. leaps to your throat. you almost choke on it—
another bubble pops up. Simon says... hey. uh, who is that guy behind you?
there's a ringing in your ears. your hair stands on end. something moves again. the black mass wasn't a shadow. it moves. takes shape. the covered head nearly reaches your ceiling, body filling the entirely of your room. massive. a mountain you remember thinking. a fucking mountain, you texted your friend. thighs the size of tree trunks—
a hand reaches out, grabs hold of your power bar. thick gloved fingers curling over the button. in the bluegreen glow of your computer screen, a man steps out.
"glad y'liked it, pet." the deep, brassy drawl sends shivers down your spine. you try to scream, mouth opening wide to choke it out, yell for help—
your chat bubbles up, feverish in their excitement. you skin through the messages, stomaching churning as it clicks in your head. their rabidness isn't about saving you, but—
(omg he's gonna fuck her pron??? we're getting pron????? no fucking wayyyyy god i wish it were me—)
this isn't a fucking bit, you morons, you want to howl. call the fucking police—
but he gets there first. two strides. it happens in a blink. the screen goes back and he's on you in seconds.
you're not even sure how someone so big, so heavy, could move that quietly—
"ah-ah, none o'tha' now," his hand curls around your neck, tight. choking. you try to fight but he just huffs, breathing in deep, chest expanding across your spine as his other hand snakes around your waist, trapping you against a corded forearm. he bends down, nuzzles his jaw into your crown. coos:
"Simon says... turn around for me pretty girl, an' be good, now. went through all this trouble t'find you. think i deserve a little reward—"
#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley/reader#ahhhhh i woke up outta a dead sleep to write this im sorry
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Hauteur
LE SSERAFIM Kim Chaewon x m! reader
14k words
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Read on AO3
“God, you’re so bad at this.”
“Yeah, no shit, Chaewon.”
“Like, really bad, you know? Like you should not be allowed to play this game bad."
You’re already down three games, struggling not to scratch again as you aim for a different colored ball this time—somewhere, anywhere, but in the goddamn pocket. Safe to say, things are not going well tonight.
“Shut up, Chae—you’re distracting me.”
"No fucking way I am," Chaewon fires back, not missing her mark as a striped ball clacks into the side pocket, almost mocking your failed attempt. “What’s your excuse for losing the last three games, then?”
“I just need to get warmed up, that's all—"
"Will that come before or after the sun comes up?" she asks, planting her stick against the floor and sliding closer. "It's okay to admit you're bad at this."
You grit your teeth, fueled by frustration, and slam your pool cue so hard the table rattles as the white ball shoots forward. Almost in slow-motion, it ricochets right off the side—failing spectacularly, right back into the eight-ball that spirals into the corner pocket.
Chaewon can't stop laughing.
“Oh look, you finally sunk one in.” You're left standing there, hands gripping your cue stick so tight your knuckles have turned white. "And that's game four."
You're about to snap the pool cue in half right here, then and there. You're fuming; Chaewon is eating all of this up, covering her mouth before taking a sip out of a beer bottle that's almost empty.
"Rematch. We're going again," you hiss out.
"So I can humiliate you again? What's the point? You can't beat me. And you owe me how much, exactly? Pretty sure your entire week's pay is gonna get fucking wiped after this.”
"Then one more game. Double or nothing."
"Oh sweetie, you're cute. I can't take more of your money. At this rate, you're not gonna have enough to pay rent.”
"Chaewon—" you nearly growl, gritting your teeth again. "Double. Or nothing."
Her eyes widen with curiosity, an amused smile tugging on those lips of hers while you wait for an answer. This soft little sigh escapes as Chaewon takes another sip out of her beer bottle, looking you over from the other side of the table.
"That's boring. Let's make this more interesting," she proposes with a devious grin on her lips, drinking some more before setting the bottle on the edge of the pool table. Chaewon doesn't let her confidence falter, eyes never looking away from yours—leaving you wondering what devilish thoughts have taken her. “Raise the stakes, shall we?”
You stare at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Loser does whatever the winner says. Within reason, obviously. If I win, and I will—“ There's a mischievous spark in those eyes. Whatever it is, Chaewon wants you to bite. “If I win, I get you. For a week. When and wherever I want."
"What the hell does that even mean?"
"I thought that would've been pretty obvious. One week where you can't deny me,” she starts, that annoying smug smile still plastered on her face while she carefully gathers up all the multi-colored balls into the wooden triangular frame. A quick run down the length of the green felt, and she continues, grabbing the white ball out of a little pocket and moving over to her side of the table. "Whatever I desire."
There's something about the way she enunciates every word that makes you shiver. You shouldn't take this bet, no way—there's a hundred reasons why that's a bad idea. Because you already know the outcome.
Chaewon turns back to meet your eyes again. "Seven days, you’re at my whims. So you can be my footstool, errand boy, or whatever else I wanna do—you don't have a say. Maybe I wanna jump on your cock whenever the mood strikes? Or make you go down on me in the middle of lunch at that cute little cafe downtown? Anything I want—you do."
That's the most preposterous thing you've ever heard—you'd have to beat Chaewon just to stand a chance, which you know is nothing short of impossible. But you can't back down, and you can't shake the urge to wipe the smirk right off that little brat's face, to find some sort of satisfaction in watching her sweat.
Yet Chaewon can sense the hesitation and does her best to persuade you further.
She takes her position at the far end of the table with her pool stick behind her, getting ready to break again. “If you manage a miracle and win, then consider your debt cleared. And for a week, your rules, whatever your little heart desires. Fair, isn't it?"
You shouldn’t—you know better not to agree to her proposition. Not to give the enemy an opening. And yet, your pride refuses to let you do anything less. "So, I get anything? For an entire week?"
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?" she responds, rolling the cue ball ever so gently as she decides where to position her stick.
"You're pretty confident, Chae. This could go badly for you. Maybe next time I see you, it’ll be in the tiniest bikini I can find. Or just lingerie. Something real easy to tear off."
Chaewon laughs, keeping her eyes locked on yours. "Considering the performance I've seen tonight from you? I'd say a loss is practically impossible."
Yeah, there’s no way you’re backing down from this. "Impossible? Fine, you're on. Hurry up and break so I can win."
Oh, she's going to regret this.
Shifting her posture, Chaewon bends over the pool table rather seductively as she lines up her shot. When she takes a glance over, your eyes stay glued to those tight fucking shorts—they hug every single curve of hers, giving such a good view of her ass.
"Unlike you, I know what I'm doing. I’m not the same girl you knew two years ago that used to help you boost cars and drive away from cops. Now, are you gonna keep staring at my ass, or can I take this shot?"
You don't respond. She breaks hard, the crack of her stick echoing through the whole pool hall, scattering the colorful balls all over the table—two go in, one striped and one solid.
"Which one are you calling, sweetheart?"
"Doesn't matter, pick one," you respond, determined not to give up any reaction whatsoever to Chaewon. "I'm winning either way."
Chaewon just cackles, reaching over to take a sip of her second beer bottle before taking position to line up her next shot. "I'll stick with my stripes then. Can't wait to have you call me master and kiss my feet for the next seven days, loser."
"In your dreams, Chae."
"I better start thinking about all the names I'm gonna call you then," she taunts, circling around the table to find the best spot to take her next shot. "You're gonna be such an obedient little pet for me."
You stay silent, because you're not giving her a modicum of satisfaction. And with ease, she's banking shots left and right, showing no mercy and striking her next target right on. No less than three balls in a row, gaining momentum before she takes a moment to bask in the glory.
"Don't worry, baby, we'll have so much fun. I think you'll look so good on your knees, licking my boots. Giving me foot rubs for an entire fucking week. Wow, I can't wait—"
Chaewon sounds so convinced she has this in the bag, and just the thought of her acting like you’re already her little pet gets you even more infuriated—that bratty tone, how she’s predicted that you’ve already lost, as if you're a simple means to her every desire.
"Don't get ahead of yourself," you fire back, because you're not going to let her get in your head. That's what Chaewon is so good at, but you shove those thoughts aside, watching her land another shot into a side pocket, taking another sip of her beer afterwards. That's five shots down, only three to go—and it's all been her.
"Please, I've already beaten your pathetic ass four times. I'm not even trying anymore." Chaewon moves to the next striped ball, and with no difficulty lands it in, wasting no time after that to line up her penultimate ball—an easy angle, an effortless shot. She's merely two balls from putting you in hell for a full seven days.
You watch with bated breath as her arm raises, stick held in position before colliding hard against the cue ball—despite her near perfect technique, it rolls erratically, missing its mark as the orange striped ball veers off course, hitting the bumpers and missing its intended target.
Her brows furrow.
You try to hold back a laugh. "Nice shot."
"Fuck off," Chaewon hisses. She takes another sip of her beer to relieve herself before staring down the table without any concern. "Angle was all wrong, that's all. Not like you have a chance anyway, pet."
She's not exactly wrong—if you miss, Chaewon only needs two easy shots to secure the game, and you have a long road ahead of you, not even having your first turn until now. But it's not as dire as it seems, given that most of the striped balls are out of the way, leaving you with a plethora of options.
Still, you have no room for failure. Even if you manage to knock one or two in, you have no margin of error. One tiny mistake can cost you your freedom for an entire fucking week. How were you ever lured into this?
But you can’t give up before even getting started, letting those thoughts fly away. You find an ideal spot and sink your first shot, a smooth roll, falling clean into the side pocket. Chaewon seems fairly unimpressed when you look up. Not that you expected anything less.
"Lucky shot. First time you've sunk one in all night."
Maybe it's luck that gets you a second one too. And a third one right after that. Then Chaewon's expression does start to fade into one of annoyance and disbelief, watching a fourth shot sink right in front of her. But unlike her, you don’t get cocky. All it takes is one mistake for you to forfeit the game, and the rest of the week, too.
Halfway there. You feel the tension rising, but steel yourself, because you have no plans of getting your lips anywhere near Chaewon's fucking feet in the foreseeable future. A rival ball nearly bounces in after you sink one into the far corner pocket, rolling a razor's width before coming to a stop, sending your heart dropping for a split second.
"Cute little streak you’ve got going on. Don't get too comfortable.”
Again, you ignore her, knowing that any response will set Chaewon off even more. The brat wants attention you’re not giving.
One by one, you sink each colored ball, until you’re one away from catching up. Chaewon only offers the bare minimum in acknowledgement at the sound. One shot, that's all you need to take away her advantage, but one misstep will cost you everything.
Another deep breath. Your neck is tense, beads of sweat forming on your brow as you approach the green ball on the other side of the pool table. Not even looking at Chaewon, you pull back, line up—
And miss.
The little bastard completely flies off target, bouncing in the opposite direction, right into the bumper with bad intentions, almost smacking directly into the eight-ball.
"Looks like your lucky streak ends there," Chaewon says, hardly hiding a grin as she takes a long swig of beer. "Too bad, loser. I wonder how you'll look in a maid outfit."
She’s hesitating, as if victory is a sure-fire thing, with no chance of any other outcome, eyes staring directly into yours when lining up her next shot, brushing a loose strand of hair back.
"I know you're gonna be a good boy for me.”
Breaking eye contact only for a split second, she aims the end of her stick right towards the final striped ball left standing. Her grip is steady, and a few heartbeats later, Chaewon swings back, causing the little white ball to roll down the felt field at a sharp speed.
Clack.
She doesn't give it a second glance, her eyes staring into yours—lips parted with that annoyingly smug smile on her face as the ball spins its way home, leaving you in dreaded anticipation.
But that lone striped ball betrays her.
To Chaewon's absolute dismay, she looks down, waiting for the purple striped ball to plummet into the abyss, only to see her victory denied. It taunts her—merely grazing the corner pocket, still standing upright, close enough to convince you both that it could drop with so much as a sneeze.
Neither of you can even fathom what's just happened. Her hands grip her pool cue stick tightly, as she looks around, clearly trying to find someone else that must've screwed this up for her. Surely, no way could her perfect little plan fail now.
"F-fuck. Fuck!" she protests out loud, still in awe as the ball remains in position, mocking her in defiance. "This table sucks! It’s broken, stupid piece of shit!"
"Too bad, loser."
"Shut the fuck up! As if you have a chance of winning. I'm still gonna enjoy having your head between my legs, all week, idiot," she fires right back, seething with every word that leaves her lips. Defeated by hubris, Chaewon's demeanor shifts fast. But you don't have time for her tantrum, approaching the table to end this all.
Three balls stand in your way, and now you have the same chance Chaewon did moments earlier. You’re going to silence that bratty mouth once and for all.
She's fallen prey to arrogance, which is a mistake you're not making. With intense concentration, you ignore the foul swears that overpower the surrounding music, and line up your shot—then gently tap your way to glory. Another successful shot, a few colorful curse words from Chaewon, and you're free to move to the next. The final obstacle: the eight ball.
"Wait, w-wait a fucking second—hold on. Time out. Let's talk about this," Chaewon says, desperately, stumbling on almost every single syllable. "What if we just call the game here? Call it a draw and just walk away?”
Oh, she's desperate. Once the realization hits, Chaewon goes into total panic mode. That calm, cocky demeanor is gone, replaced by this girl on the verge of losing it all, watching your pool stick line up one last time.
And your smirk only grows when you look back up at her.
"No. This was all your stupid idea in the first place, brat. Eight-ball, corner pocket."
Your cue hits the last ball with force, shooting right past Chaewon—who can only watch it careen its way into the corner of the pocket you've called, the white ball right on its tail, dropping the eight-ball in behind with a loud, satisfying thump.
She stays silent.
There's no immediate response. Her arms are crossed over her chest, eyes glaring at the last two balls scattered all over the felt. And not a single one belongs to you.
Chaewon looks devastated. "Y-you," she stammers out.
Her smirk is gone. Her cocky attitude washed away, reduced to an expression of pure, unadulterated rage. "How—how the fuck did you—"
“Lucky shot, I guess.”
“For the entire fucking game? No, you—you hustled me! You fucking cheater!”
You take another swig of the beer bottle you were sipping on earlier—almost finishing it as your eyes remain locked, focused. Chaewon's hands tremble with anger, knuckles tight around the pool cue as she holds it between her hands, pointing it towards you like a knight’s spear.
Her expression darkens with a furrowed brow and clenched teeth. And she's fuming, ready to explode any second, yet can't find the words to lash out—
“I’m fucking awful at this, just like you said. Right?"
Chaewon goes silent—or maybe too angry to reply as she stalks you closer, stealing the beer bottle right from your lips and finishing it off with a few big gulps until it’s empty. And then she slams it so hard on the felt surface you worry it's going to shatter all over the place.
"I don't know how you managed to pull it off. I was clearly winning the entire fucking game, how could you have possibly—"
You cut her off mid-sentence. "Nobody likes a sore loser, Chaewon."
"I'll show you a sore loser, you little—"
She holds the glass bottle like a dagger, threatening you with it as your eyes narrow on hers, refusing to show a moment of weakness. You're not going to give her that satisfaction.
"Just admit it. You lost. Rules are rules. Be a good girl and accept it, Chae."
"Fuck the rules! This isn't even fair—"
"Seems fair enough to me. You wanted this bet in the first place, didn't you?"
"Yeah, because you're so fucking bad at pool!"
"And yet somehow I managed to win, didn't I?" you continue, savoring the frustration in Chaewon's eyes, which she so poorly conceals. "I'm so looking forward to this week."
She's shoving the bottle right into your chest now, glaring intensely, inching closer and closer until there's not a sliver of space left between you two. But eventually, she relents, grits her teeth, and inevitably accepts defeat.
"Fine—asshole. A deal is a deal. What do you fucking want?"
You take a moment to savor the sweet taste of victory. “Your tight fucking ass. In that bathroom over there. Hope you still keep that bottle of lube in your purse.”
A momentary silence comes, no argument, no protest, no further refusal. So out of character for her, but it's the sort of obedience that you don't take for granted, because who knows how long it'll actually last. "Whatever. Lead the way then.”
So without hesitation, you do—Chaewon finishes her beer before grabbing her handbag off the counter. You take her by the wrist as the two of you wander out of the bar, heading for the public restroom across the way. It’s late enough in the night that you’re not concerned with it being occupied as you shove the door open, finding Chaewon right behind in no time at all.
The lock clicks, and thankfully the bathroom is a bit more clean than you've been expecting. It's small, and barely fits the both of you together, with only black tile and dim lighting inside, a few paintings on the wall meant to spice things up. There’s only a single toilet in the corner, with a tiny sink against the back, a large mirror above it on an expensive-looking counter. It's not the fancy suite you spent last month together in, or the love hotel from last week, but it'll do.
Chaewon pushes past towards the mirror in front of the porcelain sink, and you watch her intently searching through the contents in her bag until her fingers grab hold of something to bring it to your view.
"My ass? That's all you wanted?" Chaewon asks, catching your gaze in the reflection as she waves a familiar bottle of lube at you, unceremoniously placing the little bottle beside the faucet.
"Among other things, yeah.”
Staring into the mirror, Chaewon is smart enough to know where things are heading, and wonders what she’s gotten herself into. The look on her face is a mix of irritation and pure lust when she turns around, eyes traveling south as she anticipates your next demand. "Get on your fucking knees, slut."
Here’s the first test—and Chaewon passes with flying colors. Moving away from the sink, she drops to her knees right in front, as if she's expected this outcome. And again, no protests, no attitude.
"I knew you'd be a good girl and obey all week. Doesn't cute little Chaewonie love that?"
"Fuck you," she snaps back, with venom laced in her tone while her hands reach to unbutton your jeans, wasting no time to yank them to down your ankles. And there it is—that defiance, the same fiery expression you're so familiar with on her face that you've grown to know and love at the same time. You just watch, almost too amused, as she yanks those boxers down next, not even waiting a second to let your cock free.
That stare of hers lingers for an extra moment while her delicate hand takes hold, giving slow strokes up and down, grip tight, a thin coat of precum along every inch. "Can't believe I let you put this fucking cock in my asshole, almost every goddamn day of the week."
"Luckily for both of us, your tight asshole loves my cock."
Chaewon can't hide that blush on her cheeks—it's practically impossible to hide the cute little grin on her face as her hand continues stroking, steadily increasing her pace the harder your cock gets in her fingers. She just ignores you and spits on your shaft, pumping her fist all up and down with each stroke, grip as tight as possible.
Another few moments and she's running her tongue along the length of your shaft—all slow and sensuous, a little breathy sigh before her pretty lips wrap around the swollen head of your cock, parting effortlessly as they welcome you into that sweet heavenly warmth.
Her piercing eyes glance back up at you, guiding you deeper into her mouth as Chaewon takes as much of it as she can—down to the hilt in a swift, expert motion.
"Shit, Chaewon—“
Hearing the way you moan her name, Chaewon can't contain her satisfaction as her head bobs up and down, lips moving slowly and carefully as they keep a tight seal, tongue flicking around the sensitive underside of your cock with each movement. You've become so used to this, the wet heat enveloping around you, soft lips providing so much pleasure, gliding all the way down, nose nestled against your abdomen for just a moment until it all repeats.
You're lucky enough to experience this on the daily—because nobody gives a blowjob better than Kim Chaewon.
Oh, she's a fucking natural, taking every inch effortlessly down her throat without so much as gagging, tongue swirling and exploring as her hand fondles your aching balls, sucking and slurping lewdly as spit dribbles down from her pretty red lips.
"Your fucking mouth, god—I get this pretty fucking mouth all to myself all week."
"Not like you'll be able to handle me for that long," she replies, with a lewd, exaggerated slurp around your cock as she pauses to catch her breath.
"You talk so much for someone on their knees sucking my fucking cock, shit—that's so good."
And for once, she's not bothered by that remark. It just urges her to slurp harder, bobbing faster up and down with those hollowed cheeks, never letting your sensitive tip escape her warm depths. Her technique is completely unmatched. Each and every movement, she seems to know exactly what you want most.
But you want something else, need something even more as you reach out, grabbing her head to shove her right back onto your shaft, to the very hilt—so fucking deep in the back of her throat.
Still, she hardly chokes, only briefly, a loud, lewd sound filling the room. Chaewon seems almost thrilled to be right back down that deep.
"I like you much better when you're nice and quiet with my dick in your mouth."
The silence is fleeting—but the glare given as soon as those words leave your lips can speak volumes, knowing this peace is only temporary. Her warm mouth is all yours to enjoy, your hips thrusting without restraint, feeling those soft, full lips slide perfectly along your shaft as deep as they’ll go. You get a tight grip into her hair, indulging in her heavenly mouth, fingers all tangled up in her beautiful auburn locks.
Nothing would ever make her admit it, but Chaewon absolutely loves this—so eager to please, clutching to your thighs as she takes you, struggling to control her breathing with your entire length sliding deeper and deeper while she lets you fuck her face.
"God, your throat—your fucking throat is too good, baby, such a good fucking girl," you groan out. Her nails dig deeper into the back of your thighs, trying so hard not to choke whenever you decide to hold her down, forcing that mouth of hers to swallow the entire length of your shaft.
"I'm in the middle of a public bathroom sucking your dick," Chaewon murmurs, short of breath as she pulls away from your cock to respond, strands of drool dripping from her swollen lips. "So clearly—I'm not a very good girl."
"Shame. Then I guess you don't want this dick in your ass, brat."
Chaewon can't even retort, staring down at your glistening, spit-coated cock throbbing inches from her face. Her hand is on your shaft again without hesitation, pumping slowly while her lips trail kisses along the side, pressing lightly in an agonizing tease as her tongue licks your length.
"I didn't fucking say that, idiot," she replies, trailing your length further as those luscious red lips envelop your sensitive balls, slow and deliberate, slobbering on them while her delicate hands move back up towards your shaft. "I know you're dying to shove this inside me, god—you're throbbing so much. How long would you even last with me bent over this sink, with this big fucking thing plunging deep into my tight little asshole?”
"Guess we'll find out,” you respond, taking your cock away from her grasp and slapping her pretty face with it, making a mess as spit decorates her beautiful features. “Get up, face the fucking mirror."
"Be gentle,” Chaewon says, wiping saliva from her chin as she slowly rises to her feet,
"That's a new one. Is that what you really want?"
"Fuck no. You better destroy my asshole,” she replies in the mirror with this sinful little expression, like she knows you’d never do anything else. So you bend her forward enough until her ass is high up in the air, her palms resting on the cold porcelain surface as you stand right behind with your cock resting against those tight fucking shorts.
She feels so tiny beneath you, that petite frame and curvy ass waiting to be taken, all at your mercy to ruin. "How bad do you want my fucking cock? Beg for it."
“Beg? Fuck you, asshole. You’re nothing more than a convenient toy for me to sink down on that I use for my own enjoyment. Not the other way around—“
Even when she's bent over a bathroom sink about to be fucked senseless, Chaewon still can't shut up. “Is that so? I'm your toy?"
"Absolutely—and that fucking cock is the only reason why I bother keeping you around."
That’s amusing, to say the least. You don’t give it another thought as you get a quick grasp on those tight shorts and yank them down so fast her head spins. Underneath lies a skimpy little pair of panties that gets tugged down just as fast until they rest around her creamy thighs, leaving you to admire those full, pale ass cheeks.
You grope them and get a nice handful, so enticed by her shapely ass that without warning your palm raises high, a loud slap crashing against her bare flesh. Chaewon jolts against the sting, whimpering and biting her lip, aching for more.
"I want it so fucking hard. Hurry up.” Chaewon grinds her ass back, pushing right up against your erection, doing everything she can short of begging for your length.
“So you do wanna beg? Didn’t take much.”
Chaewon squirms underneath as your palm slaps firmly again, gritting her teeth when it comes down with more force the next time. "Just get the fuck in me before I—“
Another smack cuts her off, the sharp noise echoing against the tiled walls as your palm squeezes roughly at her soft flesh. “So fucking needy.”
You’re both lucky the bass thumping in the distance can drown out the cries that spill out from Chaewon’s lips, as her exposed, reddened cheeks absorb every smack of your palm, the recoil so deliciously mesmerizing.
Her creamy skin marks up so easily, bright red where you've smacked her delicious ass over and over. She's growing restless beneath your palm as you deliver more slaps, the noise louder and louder, with no warning for when and where. "Sh-shut the fuck up! I need it right now, god, just get that thick cock in me, please—“
So easy for her to surrender.
Chaewon braces for another hit—but it never comes, replaced by a much different sensation as your slicked up finger traces against her tight asshole. So fucking tight, so greedy, eager to accept what's coming.
"You're pretty demanding for someone who's going to be on their fucking knees for me all week."
She clenches around your wet fingertip when it plunges in, almost involuntarily. It’s insanely difficult just to ease the slightest bit inside her ass, fighting through that incredibly tight, hot grip.
"No more talking. Shove your dick in my asshole or I swear I’ll—“
"Patience, sweetie. My cock's going to live in your ass for the entire week—learn some fucking manners."
"No. Fuck you."
This girl is unapologetic, even at a time like this. She's borderline infuriating to be around at the best of times, so you’ll just have to do what you always do best—fuck the brat out of her.
You pour a generous amount onto your cock, giving it a few full strokes before moving between those cheeks and plunging another finger back in. This time, it sinks in easier with little effort at all, knuckle-deep within that tight opening. Half prep, half teasing as Chaewon shudders, moaning so loudly while you spread that cold liquid, pumping two digits in and out. "Jesus, hurry the fuck up, asshole, I can't—"
"Can you stop being needy for like, five seconds? Relax. Be a good fucking girl."
"Try and call me that again and see what fucking happens—"
Her empty threats don't deter you from pushing the tip of your cock against that pretty, puckered hole, ceasing any further complaints as she lets out a needy, satisfied moan in response. One shallow thrust is all it takes to get right past that slippery tight entrance, stretching her right open to sink into those familiar depths.
"Ch-cheater," she mutters, while adjusting to the fullness, the overwhelming stretch of your cock as she grips the sink tighter. "You still fucking cheated. I can't believe you, fuck—oh my god."
You're barely in her ass and yet Chaewon is already stuttering, taking deep breaths as you watch your cock disappear between her pillowy cheeks. There's no other feeling quite like it—the heavenly vice grip on your length as her ass welcomes you right in and every single inch gets swallowed up.
"It's not my fault you choked at the last fucking minute."
As you wait for whatever she’s going to spit back, you bottom out—those soft, round cheeks pressed against your body. A perfect fit, nice and snug inside that impossibly tight asshole that you savor before drawing the entire length out of Chaewon as she sucks you back in again.
"Why does your stupid cock always have to feel so fucking good?" she groans, already losing the fight with her pride, as your thrusts steadily increase in pace. Her perfect fucking asshole clenches hard, resisting every attempt to slip out, just devouring your cock without complaint. "Just like that—fuck, oh my god, harder, you cheating asshole."
And nothing could be easier to oblige. Every ounce of spite and aggression vanishes from her tone, replaced with pure bliss every time your shaft bottoms out. No part of you stays idle, one hand gripping those supple hips while those slaps on her backside echo, each sting so agonizingly satisfying as her tender, red cheeks ripple with every rough impact.
"You really love my dick in your ass, don't you? Look at you, trying so hard not to beg for this."
"Shut the fuck up," Chaewon growls, her mind preoccupied by bliss, overwhelmed by the pleasure, mouth wide open and moaning loudly without a care in the world as you just stare at her in the glass reflection. "Just fuck me harder, god—pound my fucking asshole and shut up."
The way she’s stretching so nicely around your cock, it's impossible not to do anything else. Nice and deep, sliding in and out of that perfect fucking asshole, groaning from how warm and tight it is as your thrusts start to get progressively out of control.
Your hips crash against her body repeatedly, flesh on flesh echoing through the walls as your length pounds into her greedy little hole, fingers digging into her hips. Chaewon's sweet whimpers, little groans, and desperate pleas for you to give her even more grow louder, more frantic as your pace picks up, and she falls further and further apart.
"I fucking won and you're just a sore loser."
Your palm is harsh against her soft ass, firm slaps that leave her delicate skin more tender and sensitive. In fact, the more red her pale cheeks get, the more aroused the sounds escaping her get. With her head thrown back, Chaewon watches you claim her in the reflection with heavy breaths as she stares back into the mirror, reveling in every inch pounding away deep inside her ass.
"Please," Chaewon mumbles in such a pathetic tone, staring into your eyes in the reflection. Her fingers cling to the cold surface of the sink, desperately clutching for stability against your merciless thrusts. "I need—just use me and fucking wreck my asshole."
She can't hide the satisfaction on her face while you’re slamming right into her tightest hole, hard, deep, unforgiving. This is how you really like her, all pretty, fucked out beyond comprehension, practically incoherent and totally taken apart by your cock.
"Holy shit, shit—shit, don't stop. Give me more,” Chaewon whimpers, unable to tear herself away from the mirror and the depraved scene on the other side. Her tiny frame shakes, clinging so tightly to the sink for some sense of control as you drive your length deep, a loud slap on her reddened cheeks an exclamation point on every harsh thrust.
There's really no way you could stop even if you tried.
"Tell me how good it feels."
Your cock is deep in her tight asshole and she can't think of anything more substantial than fuck and please and more. Those sweet, desperate little noises she makes when your hips ram faster against her flesh fill the entire bathroom, spurring you on, reminding her this is exactly how this entire week is going to go.
"So big—god, I feel so fucking full, that dick in my little asshole," Chaewon says with drool coating her chin, hair an utter mess. "Feels too fucking good, that nice thick cock shoved right up my ass, fuck—“
"Dumb slut loves having her tight asshole stretched, doesn't she?"
"Y-yes—fuck, god, keep going. Shit, it's so fucking good."
In the middle of another rough thrust, you lift her shirt up enough to pull her bra up, letting those tits spill free. You grope at them so roughly, cupping them, then playing with those sensitive nipples, anything to push her a little more over the edge. They bounce in sync with your thrusts, and she’s so goddamn tight you can hardly take it, buried in as deep as your shaft will go.
“Can’t believe how good your cock feels in my tight fucking asshole,“ she groans out all breathy and shaky, holding onto the sink tighter each time while you plunge your cock into her greedy ass, balls deep without interruption.
The feeling is mutual—nothing comes close to how tight her heavenly little asshole chokes your cock, each thrust bringing you closer to release with every lingering moment.
It’s all so shameless. The way your hands roam across her devilish curves, how you tease those pert nipples before trailing down along the sides of her slutty little waist and getting a firm hold on to her hips for more leverage to pummel her tight ass even harder.
Through this onslaught of harsh thrusts, there’s no complaining, no bickering, just lust and a constant desire for more. All you can do is get your hands on her scrumptious ass, refusing to slow your hips down while you manhandle her sweaty, small body, fucking Chaewon as hard as you possibly can.
A few more slaps on her tender ass, and you’re spiraling towards the edge, unable to keep this relentless pace up for much longer. You keep your hands full of those plump asscheeks—spreading them so you can thrust even deeper than you ever dreamed possible, the tightness in your balls building and building.
"Chaewon, baby—gonna fucking explode, need to cum in you.”
"Then hurry the fuck up and do it. Dump your load in my tight little fucking asshole, come on, fill me.”
One look in the mirror and she looks so eager, so ready and willing for just that. It's everything you need to get your final moment of satisfaction. Burying your cock one last time, those sweet lips part in a silent, desperate gasp when you erupt, your hot seed shooting right inside her tight little asshole. You unload everything—thrusting frantically into her ass, squeezing those plump, firm cheeks as your thick cum spills and spills like never before.
There's barely a thought in your head as your hips start to slow down, cock pulsating, every last drop of your cum pumped into that perfect fucking ass. You’re spent, slumped over Chaewon’s exhausted smaller frame on the verge of collapsing, taking a few moments to just breathe—your head resting right into the crook of her neck, still buried inside her.
Chaewon looks beyond satisfied, leaning further into the counter with her head hung low, strands of hair stuck to her sweaty face, breathing still deep and heavy. “Shit—oh my god. Are you done? Get out of me already, how much fucking cum do you have, jesus fucking—"
"I would, if you weren't still squeezing the life out of my fucking dick. That desperate to keep me inside you?”
There’s not another word from her as she scoffs in the mirror, and eventually unclenches her muscles to let you ease out of her tight ass, her gaping little hole already overflowing with your load. You can't help yourself, getting a full, unobstructed view of your handiwork from behind, hands cupping both of her supple asscheeks, spreading them apart to revel at the mess you've made inside her.
“Fucking asshole," Chaewon mutters, while resting her back against your chest. Even now, she can't resist a snide remark, groaning softly as she begins to gather her senses. "I can't believe—the whole week, now? Really?"
"Don’t make bets with me you can’t afford to lose, sweetheart."
Her breath stays heavy as she processes it all, and you lazily kiss at her shoulders, the slightest hint of salt on her bare sweaty skin.
"Shut your fucking mouth.” She turns on her heels just to glare at you, shambling over with her panties still down her legs to grab some toilet paper to wipe the white leaking down her thighs. "Maybe I wanted you to ruin my asshole this—maybe I let you fucking win."
It takes everything in you not to laugh—that same old ego of hers, trying to spin this into something she can control, still so in disbelief after all this time. "Right. Of course."
Chaewon rolls her eyes as she continues cleaning herself up, shimmying her panties over her reddened cheeks and pulling her shorts up to cover herself up once more. "God, did you really have to slap my ass that hard? I'm going to be bruised for days."
"If I recall correctly, you're the one who started begging me to stop holding back."
"Yeah, because I knew you wouldn't—" Chaewon starts, as she shuffles a little closer, hovering on her tiptoes to press her lips firmly against yours in a deep, lingering kiss, cutting off any retort before it leaves your mouth. "Forget it, you ass. Now get out. Before someone sees us.”
There's little else for you to do when your pants zip back up, so she shoves you out and pushes open the door, gesturing impatiently for you to leave as you stagger out of the bathroom. Chaewon does what she can to look presentable, running her fingers through her hair, fixing her makeup, tucking loose strands behind her ears before she tries to stay hot on your heels when she steps out.
“Come on,” you demand, and don’t even bother to look behind you, nor do you even care if anyone is around to notice how you both look as you make a beeline towards the exit. “Or I’m leaving you behind.”
"Hey, wait up—I can barely fucking walk, asshole!" she calls out, chasing after you on her shaky, trembling legs while her heels clack against the flooring—pulling down her shirt in case anyone turns around, desperate to keep her decency even after all this. "God, fuck me first and then you expect me to run fucking after you—“
That only makes you quicken your pace, not the least bit guilty about the state you’ve left this bratty girl in. “If your sore little ass can't keep up, that’s not my fault.”
Chaewon lets out a heavy sigh and narrows the distance, grumbling under her breath but otherwise following you into a taxi, swearing as her sore backside sits in the cab. You steal a few glances during the ride home, which ends in silence—completely exhausted, having just burned the rest of your energy railing her in the bathroom.
When you finally get out of the cab, Chaewon is far behind, walking gingerly up the stairs and holding the rail as she approaches the front door of the building. You just stare at her down, debating whether or not to unlock the door—waiting for another chance to get under her skin.
"Are you gonna fucking open the door or just stand out here all night?" Chaewon asks impatiently, glancing at the lock like she can open it with her deadly gaze alone. "Because I need a goddamn shower."
She's really making it too easy for you. So difficult to resist the urge to push every button and test every single last ounce of patience this girl possesses. "What's the magic word?"
"Fuck you."
"That's two words."
"Let me in already before I break this door down, you fucking asshole!"
Ah, there it is—her breaking point. That famous short-fused temper so dependable to show itself at just the right moment.
"Remind me again, Chae—what was the bet about exactly?" The question hangs in the air, and Chaewon seems about ready to kick a hole in your front door. Seeing her frustration escalate only puts a smile on your face, unable to resist her little tantrums, now more fun to push than ever.
"Can't seem to remember. I think we should call the whole thing off," Chaewon mutters through gritted teeth, avoiding eye contact altogether.
"No, a bet is a bet, sweetie. Whatever my little heart desires for the entire week? Think that's what you said, if I remember correctly." You pause a moment, staring her down—those flushed, rosy cheeks and narrowed eyes in your view as she fidgets in place when you lean in closer, standing directly in front of the doorway to taunt her. "Which means—if I wanted you to strip all your clothes off and do a lap around the block, then that's exactly what you'd have to do."
"Y-you wouldn't dare—I can barely even feel my legs as is," Chaewon attempts to argue, nearly falling over trying to take a few steps closer.
"Does that sound like my problem?" There's a long, torturous moment of silence, Chaewon seemingly lost for a snappy comeback or a witty retort—unable to string together a decent response for once. You see that her expression softens, eyes darting to the sidewalk outside, as the thought of taking a walk of shame runs through her mind.
"You're bluffing.”
"Am I, though? Like you said—anything I want, you do.”
The fact that you’re using everything against her, turning that confidence into vulnerability, brings nothing but pure, elated bliss. There's no denying her frustration, the irritation etched on her features while she looks ready to unleash every curse word imaginable under the sun.
Chaewon’s hubris is all her undoing, and she knows there's no way out of this, not when you've backed her up in a corner. It takes a good minute to gather her thoughts and actually put together an answer, but the more she ruminates, the easier it is to know exactly where her mind is going.
“Come on, sweetheart. I’m waiting.”
In the end, she lets out a defeated sigh—and unfastens the belt around her waist. Right in front of the door. Outside, in public. It’s late enough in the evening that the block is fairly dead, but she seems to realize there’s no getting out of this.
"I can’t fucking believe you—f-fine, whatever, let's get this over with," Chaewon murmurs out, looking quite sheepish as she tugs her shorts down her bare legs and struggles to balance in the dim light, stepping out one foot at a time. Without even thinking, her black top comes next, lifting it up over her head as she gives a quick look around the street before throwing it down on the ground.
And that's when Chaewon just stands there, sulking under her breath, completely exposed in the cool, breezy night in only her underwear, barefoot on the cold pavement. There's little you can do besides enjoy the view, that amazing body in nothing but a saucy pair of lingerie that you’ve gotten a closer look at, shamelessly baring it all.
Her face is flushed, eyes glued to the concrete, taking a deep breath before undoing the clasp on her bra—but that's as far as she gets before you reach a hand out to interrupt her impromptu strip show.
"Jesus, Chae—I wasn’t being serious," you blurt out, laughing uncontrollably and watch her pretty eyes go wide as the realization sinks in. "You were really about to run naked through this entire neighborhood?"
She shoots you that familiar icy glare and crosses her arms over her chest, doing little to hide the hint of her nipples poking against the fabric of her bra. "Oh my god—you absolute fucking jackass!" Chaewon balls her fists, finally working off that last little bit of restraint keeping her temper in check, immediately scrambling to scoop up her discarded clothing before anyone catches sight of her.
"Red looks good on you, by the way."
You're expecting one of those balled up fists to land squarely on your jaw any second—but they don't, and Chaewon simply strides by through the door you’ve finally unlocked, intentionally shoving a shoulder into yours. She storms inside, tossing her shoes and clothes on the ground, seething the entire way up the stairs. That's the last you see of her that night, hearing the shower turn on immediately when she finally slips into the bathroom.
✦ ✦
It's the next day when the fun really starts.
Chaewon is barely even dressed when the morning hits, wandering through the apartment in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that barely covers what little modesty her thong leaves her, digging through the cabinets to find something for breakfast. She's slept off most of the anger that lingers from last night, even so much as offering a smile when you saunter into the kitchen and pop a bagel into the toaster.
"Good morning," you say, taking a seat across from her at the kitchen table, watching her shovel down a bowl of cereal like she hasn't eaten all week.
"Morning.” Chaewon barely looks up from a mouthful of crunch, focused entirely on the food. "What am I in store for today?"
"Dunno. Haven't thought about it too much."
It's the truth, mostly, though Chaewon has no reason to believe otherwise, knowing her day will probably be spent anxiously awaiting her next demand. "Don't keep me guessing here. What's next, blowing you in the corner of the library? Showing off my tits off to everyone on the bus? Or maybe—what, you want me to wear a plug in my ass all day?"
"Now you're just giving me ideas, Chae. But if you have a plug, maybe we can start there—"
Chaewon kicks you under the table, finishing up her cereal and drinking the last remnants of the milk. "Absolutely not. My ass is still sore from you wrecking it last night."
"I'll be nice and gentle next time." Like that's a promise you can make, unable to stop thinking about the way her body looked bent over the sink, manhandling her curvy frame and just pounding away without a care in the world. It's all so deliciously vivid—those plump juicy cheeks getting redder and redder after each impact, swallowing up your entire length. And those delicious moans, the memory alone makes your cock throb in your pants.
"I don't think gentle is in your vocabulary."
You laugh quietly to yourself, biting down on the last half of your bagel, contemplating her words. "How can I ever be gentle when you're always begging to be fucking ruined?"
"Oh, shut up—I don't fucking beg." Chaewon drops her empty bowl in the sink before hopping up on the edge of the kitchen table, sitting right in your line of sight with a view of her thighs spread wide. You have trouble focusing on anything else but that body, unable to deny how captivating it is to see so much exposed skin, all these sinful curves inviting your gaze in when that flimsy material barely covers up anything between her legs.
"Did you forget last night? When you were so desperate and needy—begging me to fucking fill your ass?"
With that, you finish up the last bite, pushing your seat out and stretching for a moment. Chaewon takes notice and slides into your lap, thwarting any plans you have next—straddling you, knees firmly placed on either side with hands around your neck as she draws closer. “What did I just fucking say? I don’t beg. You must be misremembering things.”
Nothing else gets said for a moment as Chaewon holds that heated stare. The fact you're able to maintain it, even for this long without breaking, is an achievement in itself—such a fiery look in those eyes when she leans forward to press a hot, heavy kiss against your lips.
"Why would I beg when you give me what I already want, all the fucking time?" Chaewon peppers quick, teasing kisses all across your neck as she speaks and presses her palm flat against your crotch, gently massaging through the thin fabric of your shorts.
"Yeah? And what's that exactly?"
Chaewon gets right against your ear, pressing those perfect breasts firmly into your chest and nuzzles your neck, placing the slightest kiss to your jaw. "Pounding my little cunt until I cum on your thick fucking cock. Until my thighs are shaking—until your fucking balls are empty."
Shifting her weight, she lingers on your lap, dragging those long fingers through your hair and deliberately grinding her clothed core against the obvious tent forming in your pants. Already, you can feel the fabric darken and soak through—making a bit of a mess that you’re happy to contribute to.
"And what if I said no? Told you to stay still—be a good girl and wait. Patience and all."
"Then I'll tell you that'll never fucking happen. I'm not a good girl and never will be. Not when I can take your cock down my throat—or ride this fucking thing until you unload in my tight fucking pussy. Good girls don't take cock the way I do."
She makes her point very clear with a hot breathy whisper into your ear, making her desires well known. The look in her eyes, that piercing stare, ready to be defiled and filled—everything about Chaewon is downright sinful.
"So, come up with any grand plans yet in that dumb head of yours or..." Chaewon tilts her head to the side as she unbuttons her shirt little by little, revealing more of her delicious tits with every button loosened.
You just stare at that exposed cleavage with little shame. "Got a few ideas stewing. And here I thought you hated me winning your silly little bet.”
"Like I said, I let you win. I got tired of beating you too easily and decided to spice things up. So now you get to use me however you fucking please, and that's much more exciting than winning another dumb game of pool."
You don't believe her for a second, but you won’t argue about it—especially not when she's so readily giving herself away. This version of Chaewon is the best version of herself, no complaints, no defiance, just a little vixen waiting patiently to see what twisted desires come next.
"Well, what type of punishment are you going to give me today?" Chaewon gives this mocking grin as the last buttons of her shirt come undone, opening up to give the full reveal of her perky, luscious tits—round and heavy in her bra, straining the cups of the sheer material. "Go on, tell me, master."
”You are not calling me that. For an entire week. Not a fucking chance."
"You prefer daddy, then? Sir, perhaps—"
"None of those, you fucking weirdo, god, what is wrong with you?"
"Hmph, you're no fun. What good is bossing me around if I can't call you something special, at least once? Or maybe—"
You don't let her have another word, lifting her up off the chair in one swift motion, holding those thick creamy thighs steady while she wraps her arms around your neck for stability.
"Shut that goddamn mouth of yours before I find a better use for it."
You cross the length of the apartment in seconds with Chaewon's small frame in your arms, heading towards the bedroom. With every step, her tits bounce through her open shirt, making you eager to rip that bra right off. There’s no time for patience—you toss her onto the bed with minimal effort, her body sinking into the soft mattress with a little bounce.
The way she moves makes the springs creak as she fully tosses her shirt off her shoulders, exposing the black lace number underneath, her breasts nearly spilling out. Again, you just stare—that gorgeous pair bouncing when her back falls flat, her hands roaming across her own bare skin.
"What's master going to do to me?" Chaewon asks, unable to resist teasing and taunting, giggling quietly to herself. She’s so proud of herself for turning the tables back in her favor, every bit eager to toy and rile you up as much as possible.
"I swear to god, Chae—"
You're quick to discard your own clothes, leaving only your boxers as you step closer to the foot of the bed, enjoying the view of Chaewon's gorgeous body stretched out on full display. Those full breasts, ample hips, delicious creamy thighs—there's so much of her to take in, even the delicate features of her face, pouty lips that belong around your cock.
Chaewon bites her lip—eager to show off, squirming when those slender fingers roam across her toned stomach, before she brings one hand to fondle one of her tits while the other travels between her thighs, teasing herself with the slowest movements. "Does my body make your dick nice and hard?"
Her underwear is almost completely soaked when the two digits she has between her legs press deeper, rubbing in a slow, tantalizing manner that drives you crazy with anticipation. "What do you fucking think, brat? Do you even understand what your tight fucking body does to me?"
It’s a confession that materializes so easily, because you're fucking throbbing at this sinful little display she's giving, aching to be buried deep in any part of Chaewon's delectable body. With her gaining the advantage, she opens her legs wider, spreading them until you can see just how damp that useless little thong is—her touch getting bolder, bra clasp already popped and hanging by her shoulders. All that’s left is for those fingers to slip under the damp fabric that sits between her thighs, moving inside her sensitive slit, whimpering gently at her own touch.
"Then hurry up and put your dick where it belongs."
There's a dangerous level of temptation from those words alone, enough to forget about anything else when Chaewon scoots towards the end of the bed, settling into position on her stomach and reaching out to slide your boxers down enough to let your stiff length free.
Her wet little tongue darts across your slit, followed by an eager hand pumping around your shaft, stroking up and down as if it belongs to her (and it might as well). She falls into place with ease, focusing all her attention on pleasuring your aching, needy cock, her head bobbing up and down for a few moments—just enough to get it nice and slippery wet, dragging the warm slick of her saliva from tip to base. But that's all she gets to have, for now. "No, not like this. Face up. So I can use that pretty fucking mouth of yours."
It's an order that leaves little room for question—and she's quick to roll over on her back, pausing only long enough to discard the bra off her body. She tosses the offending garment across the bedroom to expose those beautiful tits as her head hangs slightly off the edge, right at the perfect level for your cock. You watch her hand resume those gentle pumps, taking pleasure in how much control you have over her at this very moment. "Use me, use me like the little slut I am. Use your pretty toy for whatever you fucking need."
Her eagerness to please is so damn arousing—it makes you pause as you look at that gorgeous face upside-down, stepping in a bit closer, aligning your stiff cock with those perfectly glossed lips and can't help but rub your tip all over them.
"Don't fucking tease—let me taste this fucking cock."
You’re quick to indulge her as your cock sinks deep into the back of her throat, your entire length pushing in at once, balls nudged up against the bridge of her nose. You just rest there for a moment, savoring the heat and wetness surrounding your shaft, right down to the base. “My god, Chae—”
Chaewon is completely ready and willing, hands grasping at her tits, pinching those pretty pink nipples between her fingers. As you draw your shaft backwards, a trail of drool and spit follow your length, as this needy girl runs her tongue across every wet inch. "C-come on, I can fucking handle it. Don't you dare go easy on me."
Oh, you would never. The second she takes a moment to breathe, you're slamming right back in, watching those pretty lips engulf every inch you give. She hardly chokes at all, throat accommodating your length without issue.
It doesn't take long to find yourself completely engrossed with the way her sultry eyes look up, those pouty lips accepting each and every inch. You can't help but moan whenever you bottom out, keeping a hand resting at her slender neck, so you can feel it bulge just the slightest with each movement.
"Goddamn, baby, I’m all the way in your fucking throat. You love that don’t you?" you ask, knowing damn well she can’t answer as you pump into her, the image of your shaft plunging repeatedly between her plush, thick lips too unforgettable. Chaewon can do little but sneak a hand down into her ruined panties, playing with her pussy once more while you use her hot, eager mouth—not holding anything back.
There’s nothing better than using this brat in every way you want, fucking her mouth with such little care—this is heaven. It’s impossible not to bury your cock so deep into that tight throat again and again. She only makes it better when her warm tongue drags against every inch, and her tits look positively mouth-watering from this angle that there’s no way you can leave them alone for a moment longer.
All you have to do is lean forward and grope both of her delicious breasts, kneading the supple flesh between your fingers. You handle them with no sense of mercy, using them as leverage for every thrust, to slam even deeper down her throat with your shaft filling her up completely.
If only Chaewon could speak right now—
Instead, her eyes gaze upward, pleading as drool continues to spill from her mouth. And it's such a lovely mess, tears forming as you get rougher with every deep stroke. There's no better sight, your hands full of those delicious tits that you massage and fondle, jiggling the faster your hips move against her face. While you’ve got them underneath your fingertips, your palms smack against the sensitive flesh, right across her stiff nipples repeatedly, just enough to enjoy the sound it makes. Not quite as satisfying as the way they feel.
"These pretty fucking tits, baby—I could play with them all fucking day,” you say, pinching each of her swollen nipples before returning another harsh slap that ripples the pale flesh so deliciously. And while she can’t respond, you feel it around your cock, these constant vibrating moans whenever your hand smacks one of those perfect tits, causing a slight red mark against the skin.
You hold a steady pace, and keep these unrelenting thrusts going, taking one look down at those ruined panties. They cling to her sticky thighs, giving such a sinful view of her fingers jammed inside her needy cunt. "Don't even need to win a bet for this. You're just a greedy fucking slut who loves getting used all the fucking time, aren’t you?"
"God yes—" is the only thing that comes out when you finally pull your dick away, a messy string of spit hanging right after. Her lips immediately latch onto your balls, licking and sucking each one with such fervor, that ravenous mouth not ready for your cock to leave quite yet.
One glance is all it takes, as Chaewon pants heavily and works at your sack with her wet tongue, but your cock is meant for far better use. So much to her dismay, you move out of reach, earning a needy little whine when you take a few steps back away from the bed and beckon her over.
She obeys, so eager and desperate to know what you plan next as she hurriedly slides those wet, useless panties the rest of the way off. That leaves her completely bare, tits out, juices leaking down her thighs, and you don’t even get enough strokes in as she slowly crawls on the floor, finding her position in front of you.
You're far enough from the bed now to do whatever you'd like, with Chaewon inches away from you, naked, on her knees, makeup slightly smeared from the tears spilling down her cheeks. The options are endless—and yet you can’t help staring, unable to stop looking at her gorgeous face, and this tight body, everything perfectly sculpted and flawless.
"Stand up, slut."
It's a simple command she's quick to follow, unfolding her legs and standing straight up as her bare feet land against the ground. You tower over her small frame, with only one thing in mind—and it's like she can read your thoughts, so excited for what's about to happen when her perfectly manicured toes come off the carpet. And just like that, you've got her hoisted in the air, held up with your hands securely on her ass as you drop her right back down on your hard shaft.
"Holy fucking shit—your cock,“ Chaewon groans out, and instinctively wraps her legs around you, lips parted, so lost in bliss when you’ve got her impaled on your length, impossibly deep with every last inch buried in her wet little cunt. You get a good grip on her body, squeezing those pale, plump cheeks enough while she locks her arms around your neck, her weight perfectly suspended in the air. “Pound me—pound me like the greedy little slut I fucking am."
She lets out such a desperate moan when you give that first thrust, the one that’s always the most powerful, stretching her in the most delicious ways. There’s nothing to support her but your own strength, and she’s practically helpless in your arms as you bounce her on your cock, so slick and tight and hot all around you.
It’s every bit overwhelming, in all the right ways.
"Such a tight little fucking cunt,” you say, before slamming into her heat so mercilessly, spreading her cheeks wide to make her sink down on your cock without pause. You know she can handle more, and that’s exactly what you’ll give before she starts to beg for it, impaling her to the hilt as you slide so effortlessly inside.
Chaewon is needy, wet, whimpering against your ear with her body pressed against you, tits pressed into your chest. It’s like she weighs nothing as you pound into her, these desperate cries for more that fill the room with a sinful symphony of flesh slapping together.
“F-fuck, just like that! Use me, just fucking use my pussy!” She's completely at your mercy as she takes everything you give, her tight hole welcoming your harsh thrusts, moaning so shamelessly while she holds on for dear life and buries her head in the crook of your neck.
"That's the fucking plan, baby.”
Her body is so easy to handle, so easy to keep your cock sheathed that you could carry her around anywhere until your arms give out. Not an ounce of mercy for your aching cock buried to the hilt, pounding her on your length just like she craves.
"Shit, shit—g-gonna cum," she whimpers out, barely able to give warning before her cunt clamps down on you almost painfully so as her moans spill into your ears. "Gonna fucking cum on your dumb big fucking cock—"
Everything becomes so, so tight, as Chaewon soaks your length, falling apart so quickly with your cock pounding her senseless. Those creamy thighs wrapped around you shake and tremble, toes curling, the suffocating heat of her drenched pussy so overwhelming it spurs you to fuck her straight through this intense climax.
"I've barely started fucking you and you're already creaming on my cock? Needy fucking slut."
"Sh-shut up, asshole," Chaewon says, a quick return to her old self even before the bliss subsides. "Not my fault your dumb fucking cock can get me off so easily. I'll cum all I fucking want—"
That attitude doesn't last long before you double down on your efforts, a blur of heavy thrusts into her slick depths with ruthless abandon, intent on making her a writhing, quivering mess. Chaewon can hardly complain when she’s this insatiable,having fallen right into her next climax with almost zero effort on your part—everything just too hot and slick as you pound her greedy pussy relentlessly.
"Your fucking cock, oh my god—" Her voice shakes, words interrupted with another string of moans, her warm, messy cunt drenching every last inch of your shaft. She just takes it all and clings desperately to your body, bracing for another explosive orgasm while you keep her mid-air, your unrelenting hips driving her to an all new level of pleasure and sensitivity. “G-gonna cum, fuck—oh my fucking god, gonna cum again on your stupid big dick—"
When Chaewon falls over the edge again, she’s an absolute wreck—breath shaky, body shuddering, little gasps each time you give an especially deep thrust. She’s downright delirious with parted lips and heavy eyelids, helpless to defy the pleasure that keeps running through her body. “How many times is that, baby? Four, five? Getting real greedy, aren’t we?”
"N-not greedy—it's not my fucking fault your cock feels so fucking good. Need you to cum too—in me, fill my fucking pussy. I’ve earned it."
That's all she can think about right now, sounding more and more pathetic with each slurred word. As if that's not already on your agenda. You keep her steady as you thrust a little more gently now, giving some recovery time as you carry her over towards the bed. Chaewon pants heavily when she’s lowered flat onto the mattress—still on her back and legs spread open, looking as beautiful as ever.
She takes this moment to catch her breath—just long enough for you to toss her closer to the center of the bed, folding her in half, legs up towards her shoulders as you get positioned. “Use me to cum—ruin me. Shoot your hot load in me, make a fucking mess inside, please—”
And how could you possibly resist that? The respite doesn't last long with her knees bent, feet dangling high in the air. One thrust, and she's nearly screaming as you plunge right into that hot, welcoming cunt, your cock engulfed in all this perfect wetness.
"So deep—so fucking deep, holy shit," she gasps, and you quickly fall into a ruthless pace, knees sinking into the soft mattress when you pound her heavenly cunt with everything you have, now focusing on your own release.
“Love your fucking cunt, baby—You want my cum? Want my balls fucking emptied inside you?”
She’s frantically nodding, and each thrust comes harder than the last, slamming every soaked inch as deep as her cunt will take it. You can barely slow down, when Chaewon is so slippery wet and suffocatingly tight, taking every punishing thrust and welcoming the next. "That's what my tight fucking cunt is for, isn’t it? Taking your thick cock and never letting go until your cum is filling me, that hot fucking load so deep.“
That’s the dam that breaks when your carnal desires get unleashed and she watches you hammer her cunt, so deliciously stuffed as she whines with satisfaction with this hot squelch flooding the room. The bed shakes beneath her helpless little frame, balls slapping hard against her asshole each time you bury yourself deep as you can go, getting utterly relentless with your hips and hoping the mattress holds.
“Oh my fucking god, cum inside, fucking cum in me, I need it."
Chaewon is long past desperate as the ecstasy builds up higher and higher, and you're on the verge of emptying deep inside any moment, adjusting your angle while her slick cunt aches for your release. She’s shaking with anticipation, every stroke a promise of your seed, pumping right inside where it belongs.
"Now, now, cum in me now—" Even all folded up, Chaewon tries to keep some semblance of control, with the springs protesting beneath her sweaty body. You can’t fight this urge, your body far past your limits when the pressure keeps building, until a loud guttural groan is the only warning she gets before one last deep, relentless thrust—
One last look at her face all contorted in pleasure, and you're emptying your load deep, pumping her pussy full with hot spurts that fire one after another, making her insides all white and sticky. But it's not enough to just fill her. You have this overwhelming ache to fuck your cum deep into her, ensuring she gets every last drop while your climax lingers, your shaft violently pulsing inside those wet, messy folds.
Even when the sensitivity becomes too much—you ignore it, because Chaewon feels too warm and wet, too perfect to leave such a heavenly grip, these slick walls that cling to your length and refuse to let anything escape her messy depths.
Chaewon looks more than satisfied as your hips start to falter, pumping through all the exhaustion until you can’t.
"You came so much, fuck," she lets out with a weak voice, and you can hardly argue with her there, easing out of her little by little until this thick mess leaks out, slowly dripping out onto the sheets once every inch slides out. "It's all in me now, all your hot fucking cum in my little pussy like I deserve.”
That cocky little smirk is back as you settle back and enjoy the bliss, left with a perfect view of the full mess inside Chaewon when her own hand wanders to those soaked folds, playing with this sticky warmth while she pushes whatever escapes back into her hot, messy cunt.
"You really are a little cumslut." She offers nothing but a smile, tired gasps and heavy pants, two fingers sliding so deep in her warm cunt like she’s proud to show off how much she can make you explode. The sheets underneath remain an almost a bigger mess than her, stained by an ocean of fluids, but neither of you show any genuine concern, lingering in that euphoric sensation and content to never move.
"S-so fucking what? Don't pretend that you don't love filling my pussy."
Before you can even take another breath, Chaewon pulls you right on top of her—your body crashing into hers as your lips meet. There's nothing left to argue about when the two of you lock in a lazy make-out session, tongues exploring mouths, not a care in the world about the mess pooling and staining everything below.
When Chaewon breaks away, you're left mesmerized by those pretty eyes, so round and full of satisfaction. "So, I guess… the bet is over now, right?"
Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous that Chaewon thinks she's getting out of this so easily. "Please, you think this is over? We’re just getting started, sweetie. I haven't even begun to run out of different ways to ruin you."
Chaewon just rolls her eyes, shifting her weight a bit more comfortably into the mattress to steal another kiss. "God, like we need a stupid bet for that."
She's not wrong, but that doesn't mean you're dropping your claim to the rewards anytime soon. Five whole days with Kim Chaewon, with the freedom to do absolutely anything you'd like to her. Not a chance you'd give that up. "What's the matter? Not confident anymore, Miss-I-can-take-anything?"
"Shut up," she whines, burying her face against your chest in feigned irritation. "I'm totally fine. I just need to make sure your balls hold up. Five more days of you fucking me all day... hope you've got a good supply. Maybe we should take a couple of days off to let you recover."
"It's okay to admit you can't handle me for that long. Maybe it's your tight fucking cunt that needs the recovery time. Poor little Chaewon, I've just been using your pussy too much—"
"Asshole!" Chaewon gives a light slap against your arm that barely registers, considering her frame compared to yours. "Now get off me and help me to the fucking shower. I need your filth out of me."
"Not unless I'm joining you.”
Another eye roll from Chaewon as she bites down a smile, attempting to sit up as best as she can with you still hovering over her—without much luck. "God, no, I swear I need an actual shower. You're just going to pound me against the glass until I can't even remember my own fucking name, and then we're never going to get clean."
"I don't see the problem here."
"Oh my god," Chaewon sighs, attempting and failing to squirm her body out from under yours. "Fine. You can join, but keep your dick out of me."
“No promises. Where's the fun in that?"
"Ugh, you greedy little bastard. Is your cock ever satisfied for even a moment?"
"No."
Chaewon lets out this exasperated groan as you help her off the mattress and onto her wobbly legs—grasping her hips, helping guide her over towards the shower across the room. She looks less than amused. "You're such an ass, there's no way you have anything else left. My pussy can't take it—god, you're gonna destroy me."
"Again, don't see the problem here."
You've never seen her more annoyed. It's the closest she's looked to admitting defeat. "Of course you fucking don't—look, I'll let you fuck my soapy tits in the shower, alright? But your dick is not touching anything else until we get clean."
"That's really not part of the bet though—"
"It's either that or you jerk off in there alone, asshole!"
There really is no arguing with that tone of hers—and there's no way you'll even pass on the opportunity to shove your cock between her delicious tits, all soapy and slippery wet.
"Fine, fine—I'll behave."
"God, good," Chaewon sighs again as the two of you stumble into the shower. She gets her moment of solace under the hot running water, taking a minute to rinse away all the mess of sweat and bodily fluids collected over the past while. Once you're both clean, you make good on your promise—so does she in return, pouring a generous amount of body wash over her chest, the suds lathering up her tits to create this perfect friction to slide through and let you do your thing.
And god, it's wonderful, every bit as euphoric and satisfying as when her lips wrap around your cock. Chaewon hardly has to do anything in particular, just keep a firm grasp on either side of her soapy, soft breasts in place for you to fuck into at whatever pace you'd like. It's not a long process—she barely has to squeeze her chest around your shaft, that wonderful slick friction enough to make you unload in no time, shooting a generous load all across her cleavage.
The perfect cherry on top of an already satisfying morning. A morning that feels like a blur, because it feels like you’ve been going at it for weeks.
Once you turn off the water, dry off and find fresh clothes, you make your way back to the couch, exhausted and drained, with Chaewon draped over your body. It's oddly cozy, lying here together, not talking, not bickering, just enjoying each other's company with your limbs entangled.
It's probably the closest to romantic you two have ever gotten. Maybe you've finally fucked all the fight right out of her.
"Can't believe you actually kept your hands off me this time," Chaewon says and shifts over, resting her head on your chest, eyes looking straight up at you. "Normally, you can’t control your dumb fucking cock around me for thirty seconds."
You simply glare at her—not much energy left to deny that claim.
"You sound so disappointed."
Chaewon simply laughs, snuggled up in her position across your chest. "Don't flatter yourself. Just surprised is all."
She's right about that—it really is an impressive show of self restraint from you, holding yourself back from railing her against the shower glass and shooting another load inside her. Then again, you've got the rest of the week to indulge in all your fantasies and desires. No point exhausting yourself out so quickly. "Oh, don't you worry. I've got plenty of things planned for later. All week."
"Oh good. I can't wait," Chaewon sighs and eases back into your body, getting all kinds of comfortable. "Maybe if I'm lucky, you can bring a friend along next time and you can double team me."
Of all things she could say to surprise you, somehow that one manages to. "Like I'd ever share you with anyone—"
"Trying to keep me all to yourself? How romantic. Or jealous that someone might get me off better than you, then?"
"As if that'd ever fucking happen."
"Well, then I guess we're just stuck with each other forever then," Chaewon says with a tired smile, fingers casually stroking through your hair. "Stuck with my tight fucking ass, stuck with these perfect tits, stuck with my pretty little mouth that loves swallowing your cum. Poor you."
"I'll have to endure somehow."
Chaewon smacks lightly at your shoulder in jest. "God, what a fucking sacrifice."
With that, it prompts the smaller girl to push herself up off the sofa, shaking her head as she heads back towards the bedroom.
"Don't forget, we still need to change the sheets, you ass. No falling asleep yet."
"Fine," you grumble, following her swaying hips into the room. "It's not my fault you cum so much."
"Me? Have you seen how much fucking seed comes out of your dick? You’re like a fucking faucet, I swear,” Chaewon says, pointing a finger accusatively at you. “I'm not shampooing it out of my hair again, just because you can't learn the concept of proper aim.“
"Don't be so dramatic, brat. You're acting like you don't absolutely love being covered in it."
"Whatever. Your balls have like an infinite amount of cum, god—“
“That’s definitely your fault. Look at that fucking body of yours, how can I not resist blowing a load whenever I’m around you?”
"Jesus, you're fucking insatiable. It’s called having self-restraint."
"Maybe, but that ass—"
Chaewon just groans, having far too much of this absurd conversation for her liking. “Look, if you prefer, next time I can just gush all over your couch and save you the trouble, then."
"Wouldn't be the first time you've ruined my furniture with your messy fucking orgasms anyway—"
"Stop blaming me! Oh my god, shut the fuck up, like you didn't ruin my favorite bra because you can't fucking help yourself from jizzing all over me!" Chaewon plants her hands on her curvy hips and glares as hard as she possibly can. And you have to admit, anger is a good look on her.
But those messy sheets can wait.
Because why would you bother with that when there's a dozen different places you can fuck her before the day is over? Why spend your time doing anything else but pinning Chaewon's lithe little body against the bedroom wall, and shoving your cock right back in her ass with a hand wrapped tight around her throat?
After this week is done, you're probably going to need a whole new bed.
So the sheets can fucking wait.
#kpop smut#le sserafim smut#chaewon smut#reader insert#girl group smut#male reader#chaewon x reader#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction
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...ready for it? - j.l. howlett
a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"
You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!
Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.
But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)
And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.
So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.
You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.
You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.
“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!
“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.
“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.
And let’s make something very clear—
Logan Howlett does not sit.
This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.
Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.
“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.
He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.
“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.
And you just sort of look at him before asking,
“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.
“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”
You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.
“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!
“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.
When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.
“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”
“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.
You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.
“Cat got your tongue?’
And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.
“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.
“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.
The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.
“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”
“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.
And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.
“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!
“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.
But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.
“You really shouldn’t smoke.”
“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”
He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.
And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.
“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.
You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.
“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.
And have made him want you even more.
• • •
The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.
Honestly, you kind of fit in great.
So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.
Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.
He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.
“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.
“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.
“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.
“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.
���Are you.. drunk?”
“Do you think I’m drunk?”
“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.
“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,
“’Kay.”
And he chuckles a little bit at that.
“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,
“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.
“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.
“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.
“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.
The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.
You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.
When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.
“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.
“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.
He just gives you this smirk.
“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.
“You’re awful.” And you need him.
“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”
“You.”
“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.
“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”
“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.
• • •
The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.
You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.
He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.
“I hate you. Shut up.”
“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”
“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.
And after a moment of silence, he asks,
“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”
Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.
You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
• • •
Weeks go by like this.
You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.
Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.
Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.
And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.
You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.
He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.
“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.
“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.
After a few minutes, you glance to him.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.
“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.
“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.
“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.
Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.
“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.
“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.
“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.
“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.
“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.
“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.
And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,
“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.
“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.
“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
• • •
For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.
You think you might die by day three.
It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.
You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.
Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.
Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.
He pulls away, and you grin up to him.
“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.
“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.
“I just..” you start.
And then you break.
You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.
“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.
He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.
You grin.
“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.
Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”
“Wait, really?”
He blinks, confused.
“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.
“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.
“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”
“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.
He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.
“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.
His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.
His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.
Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.
His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.
“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”
He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—
You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.
After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.
As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.
But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.
“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”
“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.
“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.
Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.
After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.
“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,
“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.
“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.
“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.
As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.
“Fuck! Oh my god—”
“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.
You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.
All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”
“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.
As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.
“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.
When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,
“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”
And he laughs.
“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”
“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”
“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”
#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#logan howlett blurb#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine blurb#wolverine smut#xmen smut#deadpool and wolverine#danny speaks to the void
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college art donaldson !!!
maybe something about him , tashi , reader , and patrick all being in a friend group at while in college. maybe patrick comes down to visit tashi and suggest an idea where they drive down to the beach and rent a beach house for a few days or something. while they’re there tashi and patrick start arguing leaving reader and patrick alone.
change whatever if u need to but js anything with college art , please !!
so i took a million years and definitely wrote too much but. finally. FINALLY. thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it :)
☆
beach trip
pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]
word count: 3.9K
warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, NOT beta read lol (but nothing of mine ever is), college era art my love, friends to lovers, art and reader swim in their underwear lol, reader wears a bra, reader likes swimming, first time together, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, safe sex (condom moment), art is a munch
summary: A group beach weekend sounded great- until Tashi and Patrick spent the whole drive bickering and the whole first night moments from pouncing on each other. Looks like you and Art will have to keep each other company.
☆
“Don’t let him scare you, he’s shit at board games. And card games. Just like he’s shit at tennis.”
You just blinked, eyes darting to Patrick to see how he’d react to Tashi’s dig. The nervous laugh to your left let you know Art was just as unsure as you were.
When Patrick had come to visit Tashi and suggested all four of you take a trip to a rental beach house, you knew being in close quarters with the both of them for a full 3 days would be interesting, at the least. You weren’t about to pass up on the beach trip, though- not when Patrick was covering the rent.
What you didn’t know was that they would be argue-flirting the entire way there, and every moment since you’d all arrived. It made sense, though- between Tashi rooming with you, Patrick not having a room since he wasn’t a Stanford student, and his long stretches between visits, they hadn’t had any time alone in a little over 2 months.
Their flirting was always a little angry- little jabs and remarks that would have made you wince if you were the target. For them, it just made the other’s eyes linger on their partner's lips for a little too long.
Patrick licked his lips before he responded. “Do you ever talk about anything else?” He asked, a lazy half smile on his face.
Tashi’s comeback was almost immediate: “Not like you give me anything else to talk about.” She leaned back on her hands, eyes raking over him from top to bottom.
Patrick seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. He leaned forward, that lazy smirk changing into a playful grin. “Yeah? I got something I could give you right now.”
Alright. That was your sign to go.
When you turned to Art, brows raised, he was already looking at you. You glanced from him to the door and back. You knew Patrick and Tashi would be on each other any second now, whether you two left or not, and you really didn’t want to get caught up in it.
Art nodded.
Your “I think I’m gonna call it a night” and Art’s “Uh, me too” fell on deaf ears as you two scrambled out of the room. Art had barely shut the door behind himself before you could hear those two pounce on each other, the board game you’d been playing definitely scattered and forgotten.
It made you snicker, like a middle school boy. One glance at Art and he was laughing too, a hand over his mouth, his red stanford baseball cap the only thing keeping his hair from falling into his eyes as he shook.
More noises from the room- a crash, then the dull thud of something falling to the carpet. You winced through your grin, then made your way down the hall toward the front porch, beckoning Art to follow you.
Outside, you placed your arms on the railing, leaning entirely on the rickety wood. In the cool night air, you couldn’t hear your roommate and her boyfriend getting it on like animals. You didn’t blame them, even if the angry flirting style wasn’t for you. If you had a partner who was always away, you knew you’d jump on them the moment they were in sight.
You glanced over as Art joined you, mimicking your posture. You knew there was a point, early freshman year, when he’d liked Tashi. It was hard to ignore how his smile dropped when he’d watch Patrick and Tashi reunite, thinking no one was watching. And you always recognized how lost he looked when he stared at her while the three of you had lunch- after all, you looked at him the same way.
Recently, though- over the year and a half you’d known the three of them- he was easing up on it. His smiles lingered long after he thought everyone had looked away. He didn’t even notice when Tashi walked into the cafeteria until you waved her down to sit with you guys. And now, next to you, he was grinning at their antics instead of grimacing.
He seemed to be over it. If only you could be so lucky.
“Like… animals,” Art said, glancing over at you. You were caught so off guard, you didn’t even remember to pretend you hadn’t been staring.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You laughed, grinning. “They definitely needed that. Did you hear them in the back of the car on the way down here?”
Art groaned. “Oh my god, I thought they were gonna go at it right there.” He brought his voice an octave higher, lifting his chin in an imitation of Tashi that could’ve also passed for royalty- what was the difference, really. “‘You eat like shit. No wonder you play the same.’”
Immediately, you dropped your voice, giving him a coy side smirk and raising one eyebrow. “‘I’ll tell you what I’d rather eat.’”
The two of you doubled over, howling in laughter. Then, another crash from inside. Escaping them was going to be harder than you thought.
“You wanna head down to the water?” Art asked.
“Sure,” you said, smiling wide when he gave you a mock bow and let you lead the way.
The roar of the waves was comforting as you got closer, sand covering your bare feet- neither of you remembered to grab shoes- and the salty air filling your nose. The walk was silent, and the few minutes you spent standing at the edge of the ocean was, too. You watched it reach out toward you, then retreat back into the glittering blue-black. At some point, you closed your eyes.
“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”
Your eyes snapped open. Art was still looking out at the water, head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. The wind fought to ruffle the few curls that peaked out from under his hat. “Never?” You asked.
Art shook his head. “We didn’t really go when I was a kid, and I was way too scared, anyway. Then when I went with friends it was more about beach volleyball and drinking than actually swimming.” He looked over at you, then laughed. “I’m guessing from your face right now, you must love swimming in the ocean.”
You closed your mouth, which you hadn’t realized had fallen open, and shook your head. “Do I?” His incredulous head shake made you smile. A beat of silence. “Are you still scared of it?”
He took a moment to answer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Not too scared to try, I guess.”
“Alright, wanna try?”
Art just tilted his head at you. You gestured toward your clothes, then the ocean, then to him. You could see it in his face when he caught on. “I’m not going in alone.”
You only took a second to think about it before you were tugging your t-shirt off and tossing it on the sand between you two. Your shorts came soon after. You already had one foot in the water when Art called your name, laughing so hard he could barely say it.
You shrieked at the cold as it hit your stomach, then sunk down to your shoulders, getting the shock over with all together. When you turned back toward the sand, you saw a shirtless Art running toward you in his boxers, moonlight tracing his chest and shoulders. He still had that fucking hat on. It made you grin.
He didn’t shriek when he hit the water, but he did take a lengthy inhale. You watched as he held his nose, screwed his eyes shut, and dunked himself up to his head. His hat bobbed just above the surface, and you picked it up and put it on yourself.
When he came back up, he shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. Art grinned, wiping water from his eyes and pointing at the hat on your head. “Thief.”
You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll just let it float away then, idiot.” It only made him grin harder. You waved your arms back and forth through the water, the cold easier to ignore when you moved. “So?”
“Hm?”
“Still scared?”
Again, he thought about it for a moment. “No, actually. I think I’m okay.”
You hummed, bringing a finger to your chin in mock deep thought. “What if there are sharks? I think you should be scared of sharks, probably.”
“Nah.” Art shook his head. “The sharks should be afraid of me. I’m the scariest thing here.” He lifted his arms out of the water to flex comically, chin lifted in comical pride.
You laughed, splashing him, making him yelp. “Okay, sure, macho man.”
“What, don’t believe me?”
You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips.
Before you knew it, Art had his arms around your middle, lifting you and dunking you in the water back first, like a baptism. You had all of two seconds to scream, then shut your eyes and mouth. He let you up immediately, wading away from you and toward the sand as you resurfaced, spluttering.
“Donaldson!” you shouted, though your serious tone was undermined by your beaming face. Somehow, his hat stayed on your head.
He’d gotten a little ways away from you, but you still had the advantage- you swam in the ocean every chance you got.
You surged toward him, biting back a cackle as his eyes widened in fear. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing off him and shoving him under the waves. He stayed under for a second- then two, then three, until you vaguely started to worry- before jumping out in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso and making you all but scream.
“Holy shit!” You were giggling, wrapping your arms around Art’s neck for stability. “Isn’t it fun in here? You’ve been missing out.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, so you met his eyes. You hadn’t realized how close you were. It seemed like the realization was hitting him, too, as his eyes scanned your face. He glanced from your eyes to your lips and back. Despite the breeze and the water, your skin was suddenly very warm. You could feel every point where his body touched yours.
You knew what was happening- you could sense it. At least, you were pretty sure you knew. It’s the only thing that could come next, right?
… Maybe you were reading it wrong.
You hesitated. Then, suddenly, “God, it’s cold,” and you kicked off of him to dunk yourself in the water one more time, resurfacing a couple steps away and wading onto shore. When you looked back at him, you could almost convince yourself that the same disappointment that filled your chest was written on his face. “Come on!” You called cheerfully, and Art started after you, replacing the look with an amused smile.
You both put your clothes back on, if only to shield yourselves from some of the breeze on the short walk back. You were both silent as you neared the house, as you walked down the halls. Neither of you even remarked on how Tashi and Patrick had finally gone silent. When Art got to his door and stopped, though, you turned to him.
“Goodnight,” you said, willing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your soaked shirt.
Art nodded. That look was back in his eyes, the one that looked just how you felt. “Goodnight.”
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
The shower was much needed and very welcomed. You took your time getting sand off of you as best as you could, working the water into your hair (you’d wash it tomorrow- you weren’t going through that whole workout this late). When you stepped out of the hot water, toweling yourself off, your eyes caught on the red Stanford baseball cap on the sink counter. You bit your lip and walked past it, into the connecting bedroom you were calling yours for the weekend.
Pajamas on, you sat at the edge of your bed, scrunching your hair mostly dry with a spare t-shirt you’d packed just for that. The crash of the ocean enveloped you through the open window.
You thought about it. About his arms around you and his chest against yours. About the way he’d looked at you and you’d known exactly what he was going to do. About his face when you’d second guessed yourself and ran away.
Fuck. Why did you run away?
When you got up and walked to the door, you grabbed the hat from the bathroom counter. You told yourself you were only going to return it, but something in the back of your mind laughed at your excuse.
You had just gotten to the door, lifting a hesitant hand to knock, when it swung open and you were met with a flushed, freshly showered, boxers-and-t-shirt clad Art Donaldson.
The two of you stared for a moment. You didn’t see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, but there was still something there. You were sure it was on your face, too.
You cleared your throat. “Hat,” you said, intelligently.
Art glanced at the hat in your slightly raised hand, then nodded. His eyes came back up to meet yours, then darted down to your lips. He opened his mouth and hesitated. “Do you wanna-”
You pushed forward, pressing your lips to his for just a moment, before pulling back, searching his eyes. He didn’t give you too long to think about what you’d just done, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you back toward him and kissing you again. Hard.
Art yanked you into the room, and you dropped the hat, the door shutting as he pushed you up against it. His hands found their way under your sleep shirt, settling on your bare waist, and one of yours cupped his cheek while the other thread through his hair. You tugged gently at the curls, and he sighed your name into your mouth.
You pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Bed?”
He obliged, grabbing your hand to lead you to the corner bed. His rental room was similar to yours, save for a warm, dull bedside lamp on, barely illuminating the room.
You both crawled onto the bed on your knees, leaning forward to pick up where you’d left. Art’s hands played with the hem of your shirt and you helped him lift it off of you. His shirt went next. He cupped your breasts tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples, his face watching yours like he wanted to see if he was doing this right. You pulled him back in for another kiss and bit his lip. He groaned.
“Lay back,” he murmured against your mouth.
You did as told, scooting up the bed and falling into his pillows. They smelled mostly of the air freshener the owner of the beach house had doused it with, but the vague hint of Art’s cologne permeated the room.
He kissed you again, holding himself up over you. He placed kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. As one of his hands came to rest between your legs, pressing against you between your pants and underwear, he placed his mouth on one of your nipples. He bit at it gently, sucking immediately to make up for the hurt and moving his hand against you. Your breath stuttered and grew heavy, lips parting, as he moved to your other nipple.
Art pressed a kiss to your stomach next, trailing lower, eyes closed. You watched as he murmured against your skin, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this.”
“Yeah?” ‘Sex with me or eating me out specifically?’ you wanted to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them down together and tossing them on the floor. He pressed alternating kisses to each of your thighs, inching closer and closer. You could barely hear your voice when you asked, “Why didn’t you do anything?”
A shiver ran through you, partially from the vulnerability and cool air, partially from the way Art was looking at you- reverent. Devout. “I couldn’t imagine I’d be lucky enough.”
You wanted to say something back- something clever and sweet to let him know just how easily he could have had you- but his mouth was on you in less than a second, and all that you could do was let out an odd cross between a huff and a whine.
His tongue pressed flat against you- eager, almost desperate, like you were an oasis in the desert. His nose bumped your clit as he bobbed his head, switching between long strokes and focusing on sucking your clit. “Shit,” you whispered, your hand threading through his hair. He fell into a rhythm, the consistent vulgar noises of his mouth against you filling the room alongside your gasps and whines.
When his tongue pushed into you, your eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, Art,” you said, barely gripping his hair and faintly hoping that it wasn’t painful for him. He only whined at his name, a desperate noise, and pushed his face impossibly deeper. “I’ll- I’ll come if you keep-” You cut yourself off with a groan.
Art pulled back just enough to say, “I want you to. Please, let me taste it.” Immediately, his mouth was back on you, like he couldn’t keep himself away for long. You would’ve playfully chided him for being so filthy had you not been busy gripping his hair and letting curses fly.
You let your head fall back, hips rolling on their own accord, and he only adapted and let you ride his face and bring yourself to the edge. You came with a loud cry, thighs pressing in on his head, back lifting just slightly off the bed. Art didn’t back off as your high subsided, continuing until you’d come down and were laying there, panting.
You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, then pulled Art back up onto the bed. His eyes were glossy, much like the majority of his face, covered in you and his own spit. You put your hands on his cheeks, ignoring the sticky feeling and pulling him in for a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
One of your hands wandered, trailing down his chest and coming to rest at the front of his boxers, palming him. He groaned.
“I wanna fuck you,” you said, pulling away to look him in the eye.
Art huffed a laugh. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not gonna last at all.”
That caught you off guard, and you laughed. “What?”
He shrugged coyly, almost smug as if his cheeks weren’t still flushed and glistening from his time spent between your legs. “I’m, like, halfway there already.”
Just from eating you out and a little petting? That was… surprisingly hot.
You told him as much, relishing in how deeply he flushed and how widely he grinned. You made him lie back on the bed. “Condoms?” You asked.
He nodded toward his bedside, to the backpack leaning against the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow at him before leaning off the bed to grab one. All he offered you was a shy smile.
You kissed his chest, making your way down to his waistband, and he watched, propped up on his elbows, like he was sure if he took his eyes off you you’d disappear. When you pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, you wasted no time ripping the condom wrapper open and rolling it on.
Getting up on your knees, you hovered over him and lined your hips up with his. You gave him a quick glance. “This okay?”
He nodded, eagerly, and you could’ve broken at the sight. You sank onto him, gasping slightly at the sensation. Art watched your face, open mouthed, eyes never leaving yours. You almost wanted to look away, but the intensity was riveting.
With him now fully in you, you gave yourself a moment to adjust, hands settling on his chest as he gripped your thighs. You gave your hips an experimental push forward.
Art let out a groan that sounded somewhat like “Fuck” and “Ugh” put together. You repeated the motion, your mouth opening softly as you watched his eyes flutter open and shut. It was like he was struggling between giving into the feeling and watching you.
You increased your pace, head falling forward as you lifted your hips with each push. Art’s hands moved to grip your ass, eyes focused on you, little pants and whimpers escaping him as you moved. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. You would’ve responded in kind, but he bucked his hips moments after and your head fell back with a moan.
With your hands now supporting you from behind, gripping the sheets, you rolled your hips with each lift. Art let out a particularly pathetic whine, and you grinned through your heavy breathing, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes. “Close?” He nodded, his expression so desperate that you were sure he was right on the edge. You could feel yourself right behind him. “Cum for me then,” you panted.
Art groaned, one hand moving to press sloppy circles against your clit. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, wanting to see his face as his orgasm hit him. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted as he panted and he whimpered. When his orgasm came, his eyes shut and he cried out, gripping you tightly and continuing to rub your clit, hips bucking into you involuntarily. You were only a second behind, “Fuck, Art!” the only thing you could say before your hips stuttered and your second orgasm washed over you.
Slowly, you came to a stop, panting and barely keeping yourself up. Your head was light, and you couldn’t wipe an exhausted smile off your face. When you finally felt like your arms wouldn’t give out, you lifted yourself off of him, collapsing on the bed between him and the wall, catching your breath.
Art removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash before turning to face you. His breathing was much more regular, but his chest still heaved. “...Fuck,” he said.
And you laughed, one arm over your eyes, the other clutching your stomach. “Yeah?”
He was grinning at you when your arm moved off your eyes, then leaning in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collar bone, your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured. Silence fell over you both as you watched him intertwine your fingers and stare at them. His lip twitched, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I meant it, you know. I wanted this- you- I’ve liked you for… a while.”
You hummed, now suddenly also very interested in your intertwined fingers. “‘Liked,’ past tense? All done now?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, dumb-ass.” You smacked his arm, glancing up to find him looking at you now. “Like. Still. And probably will for a while.”
You felt your face warm. You kissed him. “I like you, too. Still do. Will for a while, etcetera.”
“Thank fucking god,” he said, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh. When Art kissed you again, you could feel his smile against your lips, and you were sure he could feel yours.
#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#challengers#art donaldson x you#art donaldson#art donaldson in stanford save me#art donaldson/reader#art donaldson/you#art donaldson fic#art donaldson imagine#challengers x reader#challengers imagine#challengers smut#challengers x you#mike faist x reader#mike faist smut#zee writes#my writing#challengers movie#challengers 2024#ao3#tashi duncan#patrick zweig#requests#asks
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LOVE IS (NOT) EASY (l.hs)
summary: there was nothing you hated more than the smell of cigarettes and smokers. always acting as if they were above anything else. but just like persephone learnt how to love hades, then why couldn’t you learn how to love heeseung?
warnings: fingering, rough sex, chocking, gagging, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), blowjob, squirting, heeseung is toxic, heeseung smokes, reader hates cigarettes, situationship with benefits?, doggy, missionary, dirty talk, pet names (babe, baby, slut), lmk if more. (strangely) proofread.
published: 9th May 2024
wc: 3.5k
taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns (one shot) @slut4hee @ineedsomezzz @deobitifull @smisworld @mitmit01 @the-poetic-side-of-me @cha0thicpisces @heeseungsbitvh
Blasting music, almost at a deafening volume, blinding lights and the mixed smell of sweat and alcohol. That was how your birthday party was going on, all your friends and friends of friends filling the room, making the air heavy.
You kept smiling and greeting people you hadn’t even invited, accepting kind birthday wishes. You were in desperate need of fresh air but you were also trying to find Lee Heeseung.
Your relationship was rather complicated, if you had to be honest. You weren’t a couple, because Heeseung made it clear from the first day you met that he couldn’t afford love. But you also weren’t just nothing.
Whatever it was, he was supposed to show up at your birthday party— well, he actually did, he greeted you with the most false smile you could’ve ever see and then disappeared in thin air.
You knew he hated social gatherings, especially if it was with people outside his corrupted and not so safe group of friends, but you thought he’d at least celebrate with you.
You stumbled on your heels, making your way through the crowd until you finally reached the entrance of the room you rented and went outside.
The cold air hit your barely covered skin, the thin and tight dress you chose as an outfit doing nothing to cover you from the chilly weather.
It was when you focused on your surroundings that you noticed a pair of familiar broad shoulders covered in utterly familiar leather jacket.
You walked beside him and frowned when you noticed he was yet again smoking a cigarette, the bitter smell of it tickling your nostrils “Seriously?”
Heeseung rolled his eyes and took another long drag from his cigarette, "You look good tonight, babe."
You let out a small sigh, looking at him with a sharp stare. Heeseung wasn’t one to do things out of kindness, he was selfish and only did what he could to take advantage himself. You just hoped he’d listen to you once— But again, hope was not on your side. when it came to him.
“You promised you wouldn’t smoke today.” You stated, reminding him of your previous conversation.
He let out a groan, "You're impossible to make happy." He put out the cigarette and threw it on the ground, stepping on it, "There. You happy now?" He raised an eyebrow.
It wasn’t very nice to just throw the cigarette on the ground and leave it there, but you weren’t going to complain since his lungs would have less smoke in them.
“Come on, Hee.” You stepped in front of him, your height difference was clear that way “It’s my birthday, you said it was my gift.”
Heeseung let out another groan, "Don't pull that card on me. it doesn't work anymore." He mumbled and pulled you closer by the waist, "I didn't want to be here in the first place. We could have celebrated it alone and had a lot more fun together."
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your figures melting together “But I wanted to celebrate it with my friends too.”
"Well, I am better than them—“ He raised a brow, “They can’t satisfy you the way I do.”
Heeseung leaned down to kiss you, his tongue licking your bottom lip. He pulled away, "Don't forget it" He whispered on your lips but it came off as threatening.
“Oh, so now you’re better than them?” You asked, teasing him as you pulled your face away from his.
He pulled you back, his hand gripping onto your chin tightly, "I’ve always been. Who else would put up with your attitude?" He said with a cocky smirk.
You sighed, shaking your head “What attitude?” You mumbled, slightly offended.
Heeseung pulled harder on your chin so you looked up at him, "Look at you right now, always trying to make me mad." His voice was husky, sending shivers down your spine.
“But you like it?” You asked, your quiet voice going straight to his cock— however he couldn’t just steal you away from your party, could he?
Heeseung had a thing for toying with you, confusing you, leaving you just to claim you all over again. Cause no matter how much you acted like you hated him, you knew there was no going back from his game.
His fingers trailed down from your chin to your neck, squeezing the sides slightly, "You don’t know a damn thing abou what I like." He mumbled and leaned down to kiss you again.
He pulled away before you had the chance to respond, "Go inside. I’ll join you in a minute" He demanded.
You pointed a finger at his chest, wanting to sound threatening “No more cigs.”
Heeseung grabbed your hand and kissed it, "You know I can't make promises I don't intend to keep" He squeezed your hand.
"I'll see you inside" he smirked and walked away before you could give him another response.
“Heeseung!” You shouted, watching as he walked away. He didn’t even turn around, he just waved one of his hands and disappeared in the middle of the night; just like he always did.
You groaned, frustrated with him, but most of all with yourself, for always letting him lead you on. You just went back to your birthday party, now feeling ever worse than you were before.
You took a deep breath before entering the room, the smell of alcohol replacing the bitter one of cigarettes and Heeseung’s wood cologne.
You tried to enjoy your night but you couldn’t really, your mind always drifting to the bane of your existence who wore an under-washed leather jacket and always had a cigarette between his lips.
⟡
So called devil had the audacity to show his face again when you were already at home, after fixing all the mess your guests had made— which was huge and took you the whole night. Birds chirped outside, signalling it was already early morning and you couldn’t wait to just fall asleep in your bed.
You heard the overly familiar sound of your bedroom window opening and closing right away, signalling the presence of a new person inside your apartment.
You had just removed your heels and stood in the middle of the room, in front of Heeseung’s tall figure. His demeanour was a little more dishevelled and messy than it had been a few hours before; but you could still smell the odour of cigarettes on him. He saw the unamused look on your face and smirked before walking closer to you.
Heeseung grabbed your waist and kissed you, "Stop sulking." He mumbled against your lips.
You pushed his chest, obviously not doing any damage to him “Let go.” You said sternly.
He pushed you slightly against the wall, trapping you and leaning closer, "Stop acting like this. You're mad at me all the time. I’m sick and tired of coming home to a pissed off Y/N." He said and kissed you again, more roughly.
You kissed him back with the same passion, your lips crashing together, tongues intertwining.
“Stop making me mad, then.” You mumbled, your fingers grasping his dark hair.
"Everything I do makes you mad." Heeseung murmured and kissed all over your neck, biting down occasionally to leave marks, claiming you, “You’re never satisfied.”
You blindly removed his jacket and let it fall on the ground with a small thud. You clumsily tried to undo the buttons of his shirt, “Cause you never listen.”
Heeseung pushed off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor, "Stop picking fights with me, then." He mumbled, his lips trailing down from your neck to your chest as your palms wandered around his bare torso.
You let out head fall back on the wall, the rough touch of his lips on your skin sending butterflies in your stomach “Can’t.” You answered.
He gripped onto your thighs and lifted you up, making you straddle him. He moved your face to look at him, "Look at me."
You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling and looked into his eyes as he demanded.
His pupils were dilated from the tobacco and probably some other things you were too afraid to ask; still, they were beautiful.
Heeseung leaned forward to kiss you again, biting down on your bottom lip, both of you moaning when you tasted blood "Say my name." He mumbled against your lips.
“Heeseung,” You breathed out, moving your hips on the evident bulge you felt underneath your clothed core.
Heeseung carried you to the bed, laying you down underneath him, his lips still on yours, "Tell who you belong to.” His voice became almost commanding.
His figure hovered on yours, like a shadow covering all the light from your life— you were almost hypnotised by his deadly beauty “You, Hee.”
Heeseung lifted up your dress over your hips and looked up at you with a smirk, "That’s what I thought." He mumbled and left kisses along the lace of your underwear.
You let out a soft hum as his plump lips trailed kisses on your sensitive and burning skin. Your hand went against to grasp the back of his head, “I’m still m-mad at you.”
Your voice intended to sound threatening but it only came out as shaky and weak.
Heeseung pulled off your underwear and tossed it to the side, going back to leaving bite marks on your inner thighs, "Show me how mad you are, baby.” He mumbled against your skin, sending vibrations through your whole body.
He left a few bites in the same spots, marking them as his before he reached up and held your jaw, "Don’t pull me away." He said and leaned down to kiss you once again.
As easy as said if it wasn’t for his fingers that snuck to inside of you without you even realising until he started curling them to brush against your sensitive spot.
You gasped for air, but when you did he stopped moving his fingers. You knew he wanted to tease, drive you insane and make you beg— But who were you to disobey?
Heeseung held your chin in his grasp “Don’t fucking pull away.” He demanded again and pulled you into a make out session.
His fingers brushed against your gummy walls, at full speed without even leaving you time to adjust to the new intrusion.
Your mouth fell agape at the funny sensation building inside you and Heeseung took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, moaning lowly when it met yours.
He reached down to unzip his jeans, "Can’t wait to make you forget all of the things I did." He mumbled against your lips.
Heeseung was quick to discard his jeans on the floor, somewhere unknown.
He leaned back, sitting on his knees. He grabbed your waist and positioned you in front of him, "You look so pretty like this, Y/N" He mumbled, staring down at you in only your bra and dress on top of your thighs.
You glanced back at him, your eyes hooded and full of lust. He removed his fingers from inside of you and he smirked at the sight of your face,
"You can't hide how bad you want me…” His hand trailing up your thighs and over your hips before reaching up to undo your bra.
He wrapped your underwear around your mouth, forcing you to keep silent and allowing him to use you the way he wanted.
Heeseung leaned down and looked at you, "Be quiet and pretty like you were made for.”
You let out a hum that felt more like a whimper, your slick pooling your thighs. Heeseung smirked satisfactorily and put two fingers back inside of you, rubbing your g-spot that he knew so well, making you muffle moan.
You tried to grip his arm when you felt the same funny sensation building inside your stomach but Heeseung never haltered his movements until you squirted all over the sheets and his abdomen.
Your body shook with overstimulation when his fingers kept thrusting inside your pussy, Heeseung cooed “Already? We haven’t even started.”
You shook your head, your eyes squeezing, whimpers leaving your mouths as if to beg him to stop.
Heeseung took your chin in his hands, his fingers digging inside your cheeks. He raised a brow and removed your bra from your mouth, throwing it to the side “Need that warm mouth around my cock, mh?”
With you still laying underneath him, he crawled until his clothed bulge was hovering on your face. You quickly complied and lowered his boxers, palming his hard tip, already leaking precum.
Heeseung wasted no time and fisted your hair, taking control of your head “Open your mouth.” He demanded and again, you gave him what he wanted.
As soon as you opened your mouth he bucked his hips, making you gag on his thick length.
Your gags only made him want to hear more, so he kept thrusting his hips, hitting the back of your throat “Fuck, feels so good.”
The warmth of your mouth hugging his cock and the drool dripping down your chin almost made him cum right away, so he had to slow down, making slow but deep thrusts.
You held his hips and started bobbing your head, hooling your cheeks, Heeseung chuckled at your devotion “Such a good girl for me, trained you to please me so well.”
You hummed, his cock vibrating in your mouth, making his head fall back.
He let go of your hair and thrusted a few more times, just enough to make you gag again before pulling out. You let out a deep breath, your whole chin and chest coated with drool.
He glanced down at you, looking just like the erotic dreams he had when he was a teenager, all messed up by him.
Heeseung bent down to kiss you, pulling you into a quick make out session. He then quickly discarded his boxers as well and moved back between your legs, spreading your thighs apart.
The cold air hitting your pussy made you clench around nothing “Oh baby, I’ll ruin you so bad.” He mumbled, licking a long strip from your wet pussy.
“Heeseung,” You gasped out, “Please.”
He shook his head “What did we say about words? You need to use them, come on, be a good girl and say what you want.”
“Please Hee…” You whined when his fingers brushed against your clit “Fuck me, Fuck me hard.”
Heeseung bit down his bottom lip and let out a mocking scowl “This slut can’t think without a cock to stretch her out?” He caressed your cheek, ever so tenderly before grasping your face, “You remember the safe word?”
Even in your hazy state you managed to nod, Heeseung’s eyes were dead serious. Despite his twisted desires, he would never accidentally hurt you during sex, or worse.
“Good, because I won’t hold back.” And with that, he wetted his shaft with your juices, pumping it a few times before entering you with a deep thrust.
You swallowed him whole as he bottomed out already, grasping the sheets underneath you at the sudden stretch, so good yet so painful.
You let out a small whimper, “Shh,” He cooed, fisting your hair to raise your head, making you look at where your bodies connected “Watch me stretch this pussy out.”
His thick length moved back and forth, appearing just to disappear back into you, the shadow of his bulge showing on your stomach, making both of you moan.
“Fuck baby, you feel so good around me.” Heeseung breathed out, letting go of your hair to cup your breasts, squeezing them.
His fingers played with your nipples, making you clench around him, your walls squeezing back around his cock.
“So sensitive?” He scowled, bending down to lick your tits as his thrusts reached a delicious rhythm, not too slow but not also too hard.
His scent mixing with sweat and your own sheets’ one was enough to drive you insane, your thoughts getting cloudy and you dropped your head back on the mattress.
Heeseung raised himself up and looked at your body, laid down so pretty underneath him. His gaze went to the dress still around your hips, “Wearing that dress at a party, you knew you’d make me mad, right?”
You shook your head, not even having the slightest energy to speak with the way his cock kept hitting your cervix, his movements becoming even more intense “All those men at the party were eye fucking you,” He groaned at his own statement, his eyes so dark, “Wanted to claim you, take you right there on the fucking gift table,” He slapped your breast “Showing them who you belong to.”
Your eyes were half lidded as you tried to open them “Only w-want you.” You replied, another moan escaping you with one particular deep thrust.
“You better,” His fingers trailed your jawline, his touch tender unlike what you were doing “Only I can fuck you like you want, treat you right, mh?”
You nodded again at his words, your hands grasping his shoulders to keep yourself steady “And you don’t want to know what’d happen if you ever let another man look in your direction.”
He tilted his head back gritting his teeth with a hiss. Your gaze was now on him as he stared back down at you with lustful satisfaction “You’re mine.”
The same sweet feeling built inside your stomach, making your eyes squeeze “Heeseung,” You breathed out.
“Want to cum?” He tsked, one hand going down to your clit to rub it as the other held your leg on his shoulder, “Cum, yes.” You managed to mumble.
Heeseung’s thrusts got deeper, faster, almost maniacally as you fell apart under him, your cum coating his dick.
You’d think he would at least slow his movements, helping you ride out of your orgasm but it was Heeseung you were talking about, and he kept rutting inside you, gripping your hips to help himself.
You tried to make him stop, weakly pushing his chest away. He took your wrists, yanking them away from his chest and holding them on the mattress, pinning you down “Fucking take what I give you.”
You were a whimpering mess, overstimulation making your body quiver underneath him, if it wasn’t for his strong grip you’d be all around the bed “Hee…” You managed to breathe out.
“Sh,” Heseeung ordered, letting go of your wrists to wrap one hand around your neck, squeezing it. The loss of oxygen made your eyes roll back, laying there for him to use, to own.
After a while, he got bored of missionary so he let go of your neck and turned you around, your ass up.
He spanked it, making you moan out at the pain. He inserted himself inside you again and gripped your hips, rutting his cock.
“T-too much.” You cried out, biting down the sheets, the pleasure being too much for your body.
“It’s not.” Heeseung said back, spanking your ass again before reaching for your head, holding it down on the mattress. The position was uncomfortable and you’d surely wake up with a sore neck the next day, but the thought of Heeseung using you for his own pleasure, fucking you like a flesh light.
“Take my fucking dick, baby.” You knew he was close when his breath got heavier, sweat dripping down from his neck to your back “You’re squeezing it so tight.”
He let go of your head and held you up, supporting your body weight so that your back was pressed against his chest, one hand grasping your tit as the other circled your sensitive bud.
You were a moaning mess, tears staining your cheeks and ruining the mascara you had put on.
Heeseung gave one final deep thrust before cumming inside you, his length twitching, load filling you up and at the same time the knot in your stomach snapped, making you cum for the second time of the night.
Heeseung kept pounding, slowly and deeply, fucking his cum back into you, kissing the neck he had marked before.
Both your breaths were heavy, and as he pulled out, you fell on the mattress right away, all your forces leaving your body.
You turned around, laying on your back. You felt the mix of your cum dripping down on your thighs and mattress but you didn’t even care— not at that moment.
Your eyes were so heavy, both from the lack of sleep and the draining sensation coming after sex.
Heeseung placed one pillow under your head and caressed your cheek with his thumb.
You thought you heard a faint “Happy birthday, love.” With a featherlight kiss on your forehead, but you weren’t sure if it was a dream or reality. What you were sure, though, was that when you opened your eyes again the only thing left of Heeseung was the smell of cigarettes and wood.
#enhypen#enhypen fics#enhypen smut#enhypen au#heeseung fics#heeseung smut#heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung enhypen#enha#enha x reader#enhypen x reader#enha imagines#enhypen imagines#lee heeseung smut#heeseung enhypen smut#lee heeseung enhypen#lee heeseung hard hours#lee heeseung hard thoughts#heeseung hard thoughts#heeseung hard hours#lee heeseung oneshot#heeseung scenarios#lee heeseung scenarios#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung x reader
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Your Roommate Sukuna
“That Time We Got High And Almost Kissed”
Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader
Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!
Contains: brothers au, fluff, frenemies dynamic, use of illegal substances (cannabis)
Word Count: 2.63k
Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist
Sukuna always finds a way to surprise you, he’s definitely got that going for him. However, that’s not exactly a good thing the vast majority of the time, and today is no exception.
You turn the corner as you come up the stairs and find his bedroom door wide open. He’s hunched over on his bed using his pocket knife to slice open a cheap gas station cigar, spilling the tobacco onto a paper plate. He pulls a small plastic bag out of his back pocket and carefully pinches its contents out, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger before sprinkling it inside of the shell of the cigar. His eyes glance over into the hallway and he immediately does a double take after spotting you watching him, for a brief moment he looked like a deer in headlights.
You squint your eyes, your brows furrowing questionably, “Is that weed?”
He lets out a dry scoff, looking back down towards the blunt in his fingers and continuing to fill it up, “Creep.”
“You’re the one with the door wide open!” You exclaim, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
You step into his bedroom, walls littered with posters leaving no clear space in sight; even the ceilings are covered in black tapestries. You crawl onto the foot of his bed, your knees sinking into the red comforter. Sukuna’s hair is disheveled, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in focus, tired eyes narrowed down as he stuffs the flower into the dark brown paper.
“Isn’t that illegal?” You question, a little more snarky than you intended.
“What’re you, a cop?” His crimson eyes shoot a glare up at you, fingers rolling the blunt closed and his pierced tongue licking a stripe up the incision he cut into the wrapper to seal it back shut.
Did he really have to do that without breaking eye contact? He’s gonna be the death of me.
A tiny smirk creeps onto the corner of his lips, “You should try it, could really use something t’ get that stick out your ass.”
You give him an exaggerated eye roll, “I hate you so much, you know that?”
“Yeah yeah, not like y’tell me every day,” A spark flashes in his eyes, his sheepish grin turning more mischievous, “Hey tell you what, split this with me and I’ll show you my spot.”
Your head tilts in confusion, eyeing him up curiously, “Your spot?”
He leans back against the headrest of his bed, shrugging nonchalantly, “Didn’t think I smoked in the house, did you?”
It does never smell like cigarettes in the apartment, or weed, or whatever the hell else he’s smoking. You could smell it on his clothes all the time, but now that you think about it you’ve never actually seen him smoke before.
“You leave the house to smoke?”
“You could call it that, sure.” He hops off the bed, pulling on a pair of black combat boots from his closet and not bothering to tie them. He turns around to face you, looking down at you expectantly, “Gonna join me or not?”
He’s such a bad influence, you’re so aware of that. But you’re also so morbidly curious, and he’s a hard man to say no to, so you cautiously nod your head and stand up from his bed.
“Knew you had it in you.” He smirks, placing the blunt between his lips to hold it in place and snatching a disposable lighter off his nightstand, stuffing it into his pocket.
Sukuna walks across his room to the window, his back facing the glass as he slides it open behind him, and then leaning back to stick his torso outside. His strong tattooed arms reach up over his head as he grabs the edge of the roof and lifts his legs into a crouch, promptly pulling his whole body out the window, doing one hell of a pull up to lift himself up onto the roof in one fluid motion.
Your jaw nearly drops to the floor. There’s no fucking way he’s seriously expecting you to be able to do that.
You see strands of his pink hair first as he pops his head upside down to peer down into the window, reaching his arm inside and outstretching his open palm to you, “C’mon, you won’t fall.” He pauses for a moment, flashing you a mischievous grin, “… Probably.”
You give him a weary and unconfident smile, “How reassuring.”
Taking tentative steps towards the window, you see his grin grow wider. You gently place your hand in his palm and he doesn’t waste a second, wrapping his fingers around your knuckles and squeezing tight, yanking his arm towards him to pull you closer. For just a mere second, the two of you were eye level as he hung his head upside down, your surprised eyes locking with his confident ones and his breathy laughter ghosting onto your forehead.
But just as quickly, his head dipped out of view. His low voice calls down to you from the roof as his impatient hand pulls you closer, “Put your foot up on the windowsill.”
You tentatively place your foot on the ledge, squeezing his hand tight to steady yourself as you shift your weight onto your other leg and pull yourself up to stand on the windowsill. His free hand quickly wraps under your arm, pulling you up and towards him, his arms wrapping tightly around your chest and waist as he pulls you into his lap with your back flush against him.
He leans his chin down on your shoulder, his breath fanning the side of your neck as he sarcastically whispers, “Almost dropped you there.”
A deep blush paints your face red. His legs are spread with your own planted in between them, his arms wrapped protectively around you and squeezing your body against his chest as he keeps you locked in place directly on his lap. You squirm under his hold and it only makes his breathy chuckle tickle your skin, his lips just barely brushing against your neck.
He loosens his hold on you for only a moment to pick the blunt off of the shingles, placing it between your lips while mumbling “Hold this” before his arms are tight around you again. He plants his feet against the roof and slides backwards, shimmying you both up to a flat section to sit more comfortably.
As he releases you from his grasp, you’re reluctant to leave. Lifting your hips from their home on his lap, you plop down onto the flat section of the roof next to him. He wasn’t kidding about this being his spot, there’s already an ashtray up here with cigarette butts sprinkled in the bowl. And you can’t really blame him for coming up here, the sky is orange and pink with clouds stretching thinly across the horizon, the city’s silhouette faintly in the distance, tall trees forming a barrier around the back of the apartment that feels safe and protected, it’s honestly really nice, peaceful.
Sukuna pulls his lighter out of his pocket, sparks sprinkling with each flick of the wheel until it holds a steady flame. He leans in close, holding the light against the end of the blunt that you held between your teeth.
“Breathe in.” His gaze is dropped to your lips, free hand reaching up to gently hold the blunt steady against your mouth with his thumb and forefinger.
As you inhale you see orange embers form at the end of the blunt, smoke rapidly filling your lungs and stinging the back of your throat. You can’t keep the smoke down, immediately hacking up a painful burning cough that only makes him snicker.
“Hm, you’ll get it eventually.” He brings the blunt to his lips and inhales a long hit, holding his breath for a few seconds before teasingly blowing the smoke into your face.
“Ugh,” You fan your hand in front of your face to clear the smoke, “That’s terrible. It tastes so gross.”
He smirks and rolls his eyes, flicking the ash into the small tray, “So dramatic, ‘ts not that bad.”
Your eyes are glued to his fingers, holding the blunt with his pointer finger and thumb and tapping ash away with his middle, the veins on the back of his hand gently protruding out and then settling back into place with each tap of his finger. As your eyes drift to the ashtray and you realize that there are only orange cigarette butts in the bowl, no snuffed out roaches from him smoking anything else.
You pull your knees up to your chest, tilting your head to rest your cheek on your legs when you look up at him, “How come you’re getting high?”
“Needed it tonight.” His answer was quicker than you expected, his eyes locked on the city lights shining in the distance.
“How come?”
His head doesn’t move, but his eyes flick to you. Wordlessly he holds the blunt towards you, the expectant look in his eyes and quirk in his brow telling you that he’s not planning to give you an answer until you take another hit.
You let out a small huff, taking the blunt from his fingers and taking a short drag, trying to hold the smoke in your lungs and keeping your lips sealed shut to try not to cough. Your attempt was futile though, your cheeks puffing out and smoke blowing out of your nose as your throat burned again.
He let out a small snicker at your misery, letting one of his legs lay outstretched across the slant of the roof while he bent his knee on his other leg to rest his chin on, “Brat’s working his first day at his new job tonight.”
Your brows furrow in confusion, your lips dragging down into a frown, “Brat being… who?”
He scoffs, like the answer to that should be so obvious, “My brother, the one you met.”
You hum in acknowledgment, but you’re still confused what that has to do with Sukuna wanting to get high, “What’s the new job?”
He blows a raspberry, tilting his head up towards the sky while he takes another drag, smoke echoing off his lips as he speaks, “Firefighter, been his dream job since we were kids.”
Realization clicks in your brain, making a smile creep onto your lips, “You big softie, you’re worried about him!”
“Tch.” He glares down at you, but his frustrated look only makes you giggle. The look in his eyes quickly softens, shifting to a look of amusement as he leans in closer to you and peers into your eyes. You let out a little laugh, opening your eyes wide to stare goofily at him and causing a smile to crack on his face, “Are you high already?”
“No!” You counter defensively, “You’re just… cute.”
Oh fuck, I’m totally high.
He gives you a lopsided grin, “You’re a terrible fuckin’ liar.”
You giggle and flop onto your back, lying flat on the roof, “Stop changing the topic! We’re talking about you!” You reach your arm out to point in his face, “You’re worried about him! You love him!”
“Ugh,” He gives you an exaggerated eye roll, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist and pulling it down out of his face, “I absolutely do not.”
You give him a toothy smile, poorly mimicking his deep voice, “Terrible fuckin’ liar.”
A deep laugh bubbles up from his chest, his gravelly voice sounding so breathy and happy, creases forming at the outer corners of his tired eyes. He releases your wrist from his grasp, planting his open palm next to your head and resting his weight on his arm to lean the slightest bit closer to you, his free hand bringing the blunt up to his lips as he tilts his head down to look at you with an uncharacteristically sweet smile, “So stupid.”
You can’t help but giggle under his gaze, the warm orange glow of the sunset reflecting in his heavy lidded eyes, a thin ring of crimson around his blown out pupils. His lips wrapping around the dwindling blunt and taking a long hit as the embers come alight. He leans down and gently blows the smoke into your face, making you squeeze your eyes shut.
He gently knocks his knuckle against your cheek to get you to open your eyes, gesturing the blunt to you, “Give me one more.”
You let out an over dramatic groan, covering your face with your hands, “No I’ll choke! I need you to baby bird it to me.”
He quirks his brow, a mischievous smirk curling on the corners of his lips, “Baby bird? Like spit it in your mouth?” He lets out a small chuckle. You part your hands away from your face to peer up at him as he takes another drag, holding the smoke in his mouth as he cups your chin to tilt your head towards him and leans down close to your face, smoke on his breath fanning your lips as he whispers, “Like this?”
Your mouth opens slightly in surprise as his lips are mere millimeters away from yours, gently exhaling smoke into your parted lips. Your cheeks burn red and your wide eyes stare up into his lazily lidded ones, already trained on you. You slowly breathe in the smoke, feeling him lean closer towards you, his gaze dropping down as his lips just barely brush against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, heart pounding in your chest as you feel his fingers trace their way from your chin along your jaw, tilting your head slightly to perfectly slot your lips with his-
But the moment abruptly comes to a halt as Sukuna’s phone loudly rings in his pocket, the ring tone blaring “I like big butts and I cannot lie!” as he freezes in place and both of your eyes shoot open.
“Pfft!” You throw your head back in laughter, your chin clocking Sukuna in the jaw as he shoots up straight and mutters curses under his breath, frantically fumbling for his phone in his pocket.
The obnoxious music quickly stops as he answers the phone, rubbing the sore spot on his jaw as he spoke with a hint of panic in his voice, “Yuuji?”
Even though he wasn’t on speaker phone, you could hear Yuuji loud and clear, emphasis on loud as Sukuna flinched the phone away from his ear as Yuuji yelled out the small speakers, “Guess who saved a cat at work today!”
You could see a look of relief wash over Sukuna’s face, but he didn’t let it translate into his voice, speaking in a low and annoyed tone, “I was hoping you’d die in a fire.”
Yuuji belted out a loud laugh on the other line, “Not yet! But don’t take it off your bingo card!”
A wide smile spreads across your face, yelling loud enough for Yuuji to hear, “You had him worried sic- mmph!”
Sukuna shoved his palm over your mouth, shooting a glare down at you as he spoke to Yuuji, “Ignore them.”
You tried to bite his hand over your mouth and he whispered “Fucking brat” down to you as Yuuji rambled about his first day at work, something about a cat being stuck in a tree and how he thought that was a myth but it’s totally a real thing. It quickly became clear that the moment between you and Sukuna had fizzled out, but he was probably just teasing you anyway right? It definitely meant nothing, surely. If Yuuji hadn’t called he would have just backed away and laughed at you or something.
He wasn’t actually gonna kiss you… right?
A/N: DONT KILL ME WE’LL GET THERE EVENTUALLY!! Anyway y’all like Yuuji’s ring tone I thought it suited him askakaka Dividers by @adornedwithlight
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!
#little did yall know that last drabble was the prelude for this part#I’ve had that planned for like over a MONTH#I was giggling maniacally when I posted that drabble like ‘they don’t know what’s coming’#my writing#nav ryomen sukuna#roommate Sukuna au#brothers au#jjk#jujustu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#Sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#jjk modern au
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𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | Joel Miller x reader
↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | set in the world of handsome, dirty, rich. joel is celebrating your one year anniversary with a few surprises. alternatively: how fast can ali turn a new pedro pic into a fic? also, bless @undercoverpena —she set me on a dangerous path with this one.
content warning | sugar daddy!joel, reader has no description other than a vague mention of a dress, thigh riding, borderline public sex/voyeurism, the use of a certain undergarment for pleasure, fingering, established relationship, sneaking around, subtle dom!joel & brat!reader, pure filth i do not apologize, un-beta'd
word count — 2.7k
He’s rented out the entire restaurant. All for you.
It doesn’t dawn on you at first, but as the primly dressed workers attend to you at the door, carefully removing the coat off your shoulders while another guides you toward the table in the corner of the restaurant—the rest of the space was dimly lit, except here. The overhead light casted a warm but pale yellow glow down on the table. Two plush, leather chairs that you were sure cost at least half of your monthly rent—not that you paid that, either. Joel had made sure of that.
You tried to deny it in the beginning, to fend off his constant willingness to make sure you didn’t have to stress or lift a finger when it came to finances—that you could focus on your degree without any outside distractions.
Your relationship was still something kept between the both of you, a sacred bond in a bubble that hadn’t been popped yet. It was perfect, too perfect. And you refused to give that up just yet.
“Really?” You ask, scrunching the dress up near your hips as you take a seat in the pulled out chair, careful that it wouldn’t ride up too high, but it seems futile as the moment you both hit the seat, Joel’s palm is settling between your legs. His palm curls around your left thigh, a comforting gesture he did whenever he had a moment to touch you—it doesn’t move, doesn’t linger too close or too far, it’s just there. You rub your thumb over his knuckles and smile.
“I shoulda told them I wanted the center table, huh?” Joel joked, flashing that perfect smile, his cheek dimpling. “Only the best for my girl.”
“Oh, because the empty restaurant you rented out wasn’t enough?” The playful resonance in your tone makes Joel chuckle, but quickly fades as he sees one of the several waiters approaching.
He orders some fancy bottle of wine you can’t pronounce and you can’t help but stare. He’s so…dressed down, compared to you. A simple white shirt, black jeans that he’s worn on several occasions but always hugging his thighs in a way made your mouth fucking salivate.
You weren’t even five minutes into this date and you were ready to cut short and run, saddle up over his lap in the driver’s seat of his truck and sink down on his cock for a quick five minutes of pure bliss, feeling the full extent and intensity of his love for you in the way he let his guard down in those moments.
The second you’re alone he’s moving his hand from your thigh to the nakedness of your neck, sliding around the back and guiding you toward him, a surprisingly gentle kiss against the column of your throat followed by a soft, “Never enough, baby.”
God, he was in a mood today.
It was nearing a year of making…whatever this was official. It wasn’t asking for your hand in marriage or even to be his girlfriend, just a silent agreement that you both wanted whatever it was that you felt for each other, regardless of labeling it. And that was what worked the easiest for you both. You tried not to think about it too often, the outside distractions and betrayals you were allowing to happen when buying into his attraction to you.
But, right now, that was the last thing on your mind.
Joel does all the ordering—a three course meal of chef’s choice that came with a hefty tip.
So, they were very good at leaving you alone. Just as Joel had requested.
“Did you like your gift?” Joel asks after some time, using the cloth napkin to wipe at his mouth, peering up at you as he forks another piece of food into his mouth.
Gift. You huff a soft laugh through your nose behind closed lips.
“Oh, those—” You roll your eyes playfully, poking at your food with your fork, “yeah—of course.”
And you were absolutely wearing them, just like he asked.
A sleek, lace pair of panties with a matching bralette, but the very obvious bump of a vibrator tucked away in the gusset of your underwear was a dangerous, dangerous game. They didn’t come with a remote but you knew exactly where it was, watching the smile on Joel’s face grow more relaxed as he was on his third cup of wine, but somehow more drunk on the sight of you.
“Wearin ‘em?” Joel asks, just to be sure. “Like I told you?”
“Why don’t you find out, Mr. Miller.”
He hadn’t heard that in a minute, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he reached blindly, but with careful precision for the remote in his pocket.
The buzz startles you at first, but it was faint. You could ignore it easily, so you did.
“Eat up,” You motion to him and his forgotten third-course, a too sweet dessert that neither of you could finish on your own, but you were willing to do anything to distract him, “don’t be rude.”
Joel quirks an eyebrow up and chuckles, “Mouthy tonight? Alright.”
It was a specialty of yours, knowing just the right amount of brattiness to get under Joel’s skin.
The vibration picks up without warning, Joel now leaned back in his chair, left leg crossed over right and his hands resting in his lap, pointedly placed over the obvious growing bulge in his jeans that he was attempting to hide.
You hand grips the table in shock, jostling the silverware slightly.
Another soft laugh from Joel and you shoot daggers in his direction.
“In public? Seriously?”
“We’ve done worse,” He shrugs, “remember that night down at the beach over the summer?”
You did. Very well, in fact.
He had fucked you so hard the ache didn’t go away for a week, right there, on the beach—a group of college kids partying not even less than 20 yards away. You knew they were watching and maybe it was the result of genuine, human curiosity. But, the whistles and shouts—it sent a bolt of excitement down your spine, causing you to squeeze around Joel’s cock as he pumped into you, coming inside of you with your face pressed into the sand.
It wasn’t your proudest moment, but damn did it make the ache between your thighs so much worse as the memory floods your mind and Joel seems to notice you becoming spacey, nudging it up a few more notches and that causes a seering look of warning, teeth gritting as you gripped for his thigh, blunt nails digging in while your other snuck between your thighs, gripping hard on your dress as you squeezed your legs shut against your hand.
“Come here,” Joel says as he beckons with two fingers, curling them in a way you were all too familiar with.
“Joel, not here—” You stress, looking around at the vacant restaurant.
You couldn’t even hear them moving around in the kitchen anymore. You turn back to Joel and he’s still waiting, daring you as he scoots his chair back a few more inches. He offers a hand, gently removing the one gripping his thigh and you feel your body moving against your better judgment, so willing and pliant to his touch.
He maneuvers you until you’re straddling his thigh, hand gripping your waist as he forces you to take a seat, the broadness of his thigh, the taut muscle against the press of the vibrator as it forcefully dug into your already swollen clit. You gasp, gripping the tablecloth in desperation.
“Go on,” Joel encourages, “right here—I already know what you want, baby.”
You used to think he only enjoyed the idea of you using anything but his cock to get yourself off, but you quickly realized that it was your favorite thing to do—it was the only time he got cockier than usual, more teasing, seeing how easily riding his thigh would unravel you. It felt primal, that need for release and it was building in your core, that tingling heat lingering in wait.
“If they come back—”
“They won’t,” He stresses, his voice gruff and low as a palm spreads out over your back, the other one finding its home on your thigh, so dangerously close to the hem of your underwear underneath the silk dress, “slipped them a note—”
“Don’t tell me you t-tipped them so you could get your fuckin’ rocks off in the middle of din—” Joel increases the vibration another level and your jerk, holding back the strangled moan that dared to escape as you cant your hips against his thigh, “fuck, Joel. This is—”
Joel shushes you, fingers crawling up your back until he can grip the back of your neck, holding it tight as he pulls you up, head falling back instinctively against his hand, “Ride it, sweetheart.”
You can’t help the subtle rock of your hips, eyes scanning the room anxiously—you’ve never been this intimate in public, at least not with the looming chance that anyone could walk in and see you; arms spread out to grip the table cloth and Joel’s hands all over you, leaning forward over his leg. The table provided enough cover that unless someone decided to step within a few feet, they couldn’t see anything.
Still, your heart raced.
“Come on,” He teases, the subtle twang to his voice that had you clenching around nothing, the constant hum of the vibrator tucked away in your panties doing nothing to help quell the ache, “I rented out this restaurant for us, asked them to give us some privacy and you’re still feelin’ shy?”
“If someone were to walk by, Joel—”
Joel grips at your neck tighter suddenly, pulling you until his chest is against your back.
“I’ll turn that thing all the way up if I need to and it’ll stay on ‘til we get back home.”
His place, he means. He often called it home because it had become that to you. You had your own place, your own things, but you still found yourself there more often than not. A drawer in his closet tucked away with your belongings, your toiletries tucked away in a cabinet so Sarah wouldn’t ask questions. You’ve become masters of this game of hide and seek, managing to keep this entire thing quiet for close to a year.
Maybe it was just dumb luck.
He adds emphasis on his statement as his other hand slips between your legs and under the silk hem of your dress, palm pressing flat against your cunt and leaving you no room to wiggle away, hips jerking against his touch as you moan out, your hand slapping over your mouth at the sound.
“I’ll give you the next sixty seconds, baby,” Joel warns, glancing down at the shiny Rolex on his wrist, “if you don’t come, it’s gonna be a hell of a ride back.”
As if to make you suffer more, he slips a finger between the wet, sticky fabric of your underwear and over the line of your cunt, dragging through your slick and slipping a finger inside of you wordlessly, angling the vibrator stuffed inside the gusset of your panties against your clit with perfective precision—feeling the throb of your pussy around his fingers, the tight clench of your walls, you find yourself rocking against his thigh mindlessly, desperate to chase that relief.
You couldn’t breathe—the feeling caught in your throat as he lifted his leg only a few centimeters higher, foot raised off his heel, your dress slipping up slightly higher under his grip and allowing him a clear view of your ass, the delicious curve and the black lace that clung to your skin. He could pull his cock out and get himself off there within just a few minutes if he really wanted to and slip himself inside you right as he came, knowing how much you enjoyed being stuffed full of him.
“Attagirl,” He commends you, a grin growing on his face that you unfortunately can’t see, but you feel it—his gaze, the hot press of his hands on your body, “just like that.”
Your eyes fall closed, heading bowing as he releases his hold on your neck to grip at the fabric bunched at your waist, slipping his hand over bare skin, fingertips pressing into the flesh of your waist, aiding in the hurried rock of your hips. The feeling of fullness comes from his fingers when he slips in a second, squeaking out a quiet “Fuck,” as your hand slips, slapping against his other thigh for support, accidently brushing your fingers against the remote tucked away in his pocket and dialing up the vibrator to the max, unknowing that it was only a level off.
“‘’S right there, darlin’,” Joel softens his tone, picking up the pace of his fingers fucking into you, his grip on your hip tighter, undoubtably ruining his jeans for the night, but he clearly didn’t mind.
The feeling builds—the quick and constant stimulation does nothing to help, sending you flying over the edge with a gasp, crying out Joel’s name as he keeps you stuck, pulling out his fingers in an instant and turning off the vibrator, leaving you to wade through the orgasm untouched.
“There you go, baby,” He coos, “makin’ a goddamn mess on my jeans, aren’t you?”
You nod, feeling dizzy as your head spins and your body goes light, whining through the sensitive friction of the denim against your cunt and Joel slides a comforting hand up your spine, rubbing against the middle of your back.
“Still with me, baby?”
You nod quietly, raising your head up slowly.
Joel chuckles lowly, patting gently at your thighs until you turn sideways in his lap. He smiles softly at the disheveled state of you, much less composed than a moment ago.
“What was that about?” You ask after a moment of gentle care, his lips pressing against your neck, chin, before pressing against your lips in the most tame kiss he’s ever given you.
He’s checking in.
“Wanted to cross somethin’ off my list.”
You raise your eyebrows in pleasant surprise, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as you adjust your dress over your chest, “A list? Like…for sex?”
Joel shakes his head, pulling his lips together in a nonchalant frown.
“No—well, there’s some of that on there but…things I wanna do with you.”
“Oh,” Color you intrigued, you push one of his imperfectly styled curls back behind his ear, “care to share?”
Joel swipes a dollop of whipped cream on his fingers and shakes his head, “Where’s the fun in that, baby?” You shrug as he presses the cream to your lips and you open dutifully, allowing him to press the whipped sweetness against your tongue, mixed with the taste of yourself as you close your lips and suck just for show, kissing his fingertip teasingly as he pulls away and pinches playfully at your thigh.
You laugh airily, reaching for your phone on the table as you turn to him, pulling up your camera.
“Wait—you really have to see the look on your face,” Instead of keeping the dumbstruck look on his face, he brings his hands to his mouth in the act of blowing you a kiss and you snap the picture with a smile, letting out a startled yelp as he tips you back slightly, nearly into the table as he angles your body to allow his lips to touch your ear.
“Take those off,” He tells you, “otherwise I’ll be tempted again.”
“No self control, Mr. Miller?”
Joel catches your chin between the thumb and pointer of his left hand, cutting off the small giggle that starts to escape your mouth and his eyes are pensive for a brief moment before softening, “Do as I say, darlin’. We got a long drive back.”
You nod, feeling his thumb swipe over your bottom lip before he’s helping you off his lap, swatting at your ass playfully as your feet hit the floor.
“Yes, sir,” You reply flippantly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek before you disappear.
Joel smirks to himself as he reaches for his wallet.
You were right, without a doubt.
Joel had no self control when it came to you and he quickly realized that he’d be willing to do just about anything to make you happy.
-
divider creds: @/saradika-graphics
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal characters#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal#my writing
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promise ring
#: tattoo artist boyfriend!geto, fluff, gn!reader, implied college au, gojo cameo wc: 1.4k tw/cw: unusally suggestive (my brain was in the gutter…), the f word (f*ck, a couple times), use of pet names (baby, sweetheart)
“ya like it up there?” geto chuckles, setting his book down above his head. he’s lying on his back, using his hands as a pillow, as he watches you. your legs are straddling his waist and you’re tracing the tattoos that decorate his chest. you hum, curling your fingers to scratch softly at his skin. “mm…” he groans, “mercy, baby, they’re healed but still a little… mmh… tender...”
“yeah?” you tease, letting your fingers slide lower down his abdomen, “then what about here?” you’re inching closer to his waistband when he flips you over, caging you underneath him, his hand pulling you close from the small of your back. his gaze drops to your lips and he licks his hungrily.
“fuck around and find out,” he grins, “you fucked around, so now you get to find out.” you didn’t get a chance to retort as geto quickly closes the space between you, trapping your mouth with his and hands wandering every part of your body. he’s lifting your shirt, the tantalizing skin of your stomach peeking through, and trails kisses down from your jaw to your neck, collarbone, and then chest, looking up at you before continuing any further. “this okay, sweetheart?” he presses a kiss against your stomach, “do you want me to stop?”
your fingers find his hair, keeping his head in place, and you arch your back, chasing the feeling of his lips brushing against your skin again. “no,” you breathe, “keep going.” too caught up in the pleasure rippling across your body, you don’t register the sound of the door unlocking.
“what the fuck- suguru, why didn’t you- ohhh, i see… nevermind! carry on!” gojo quickly turns on his heel and walks out, the door slamming shut behind him. geto lets his head fall into the crook of your shoulder, sighing when you leave a few comforting strokes on his hair, before heaving himself up to retrieve his roommate. after he leaves, you sit up, fixing yourself, and bring your knees up to your chest, waiting for their return.
“honestly, satoru, why do you have a phone if you don’t even use it?” you hear geto grumble as he unlocks the door.
“i’m sorry! i just didn’t see it! hey y/n.”
“yeah, yeah. whatever… sorry ‘bout that, baby,” he says, sitting down beside you, “looks like we got ourselves a guest.” he glares pointedly at gojo, who crosses his arms in response and sticks out his tongue at geto.
“this ‘guest’ also happens to pay half of the rent here, you know,” gojo huffs, muttering, “i should’ve stayed in the library longer…”
“yes you should’ve, why didn’t you?”
“because i was getting hungry and tired,” he shoots back, “anyways, let’s get takeout. what would you like to eat, y/n?”
“oh, uh, how about sushi?”
“i want ramen.”
gojo hums, “okay, sushi it is. sprite okay with you, y/n?” tapping away at his phone, gojo quickly finishes putting in the order and rises from his spot on the couch. “i ordered it, and it's gonna be 30 minutes. please keep the noise to a minimum… i’m gonna take a nap, wake me up when it’s here.”
geto scoffs, rolling his eyes, as you laugh. the door closes behind gojo with a soft click. geto pulls out his ipad, opening the application he uses to sketch tattoo designs. you lean your head on his shoulder, peeking at the screen, and look at his drawings—this one looks to be a spine tattoo.
“is that for you?”
geto sighs, “for a client. he wanted something symbolic, has something to do with his girlfriend or something like that…”
you notice the wrinkles forming from his furrowed brows, “hm... so, what are you thinking about?”
“...tattoos based on relationships are dangerous,” he murmurs, adding more lines to his design, “and if things go wrong, it gets very difficult. i don’t understand why they would do that to themselves. don’t you think it’s stupid?.”
“i think it’s pretty sweet actually,” you say, “you’re making that conscious decision even while knowing the consequences. pretty telling about their determination and loyalty, don’t you think?”
geto hums, still touching up the design, “...if you say so, baby.”
—
“feel free to talk about something. it might help with the pain.” geto smiles sympathetically at the man lying down in the chair.
“what… would i even talk about?” the man asks through gritted teeth.
geto wipes away at the excess ink, examining his work, “what about why you’re getting this tattoo? you said it had something to do with your girlfriend?”
some of the pain seems to disappear from his face, and a shy smile stretches across his lips: he’s obviously lost in thought about his girlfriend. “it’s a reference to one of those k-dramas that she’s been watching lately. before we got serious, we were watching this one called ‘guardian’ something… the title is too long for me to remember,” he chuckles, “but the flower the guy gives the girl—buckwheat flowers—it means ‘lover,’ and it got me thinking about my relationship with her. and it just hit me, like, it’s her. i want to spend the rest of my life with her.”
“buckwheat flowers…” geto murmurs softly, “they mean ‘lover,’ you say?”
“yeah. at least according to the drama they do. didn’t really google it to check. and so that’s why i wanted to get that bouquet tattooed on me. it also has her favorite actor, so naturally she really loves the show too.”
“i see…” geto stops working on the tattoo completely, “i know i already asked you this before we started, but are you really sure about this tattoo? what if… things go wrong? it’s not too late, i could improvise the design right now and get you something that you might be happier with in the long run.”
the man blinks, “no, but i understand your concern. it must be frustrating to spend hours on tattoos only for it to become meaningless the next day…” geto stays silent, staring at the quarter-finished tattoo, so the man continues, “i love her, and i’m choosing her. you know that ring ceremony thing that those engineer people have? how the ring is supposed to remind the engineer of their obligation or something like that? i want the tattoo to be like that. i want it to remind her that i’m choosing her and that i’m promising her my forever, and i want to remind myself that she’s who i want and that the thing we’ve built together is worth it for me.”
“i… never thought of it like that,” geto admits, picking the pen back up and preparing to start work again, “should i continue?”
“...how about a 5 minute break?” the man asks, tone hopeful, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead.
geto laughs, “you got it.”
—
“hey, what’s this?” you grab at geto’s hand, peering at his latest tattoo, “a line?”
“a band,” he corrects, “got a little bored at the shop today, so i just did it.”
you look up at him quizzically and he shrugs. it was a simple black stripe that went around his ring finger. flipping over his hand, his palm facing you, you continue to study the tattoo, when your eyes widen at your newest discovery. “suguru…” your voice comes barely above a whisper, and a hand comes up to cover your mouth, “my initials?”
geto glances away, cheeks flushing, as he scratches at the back of his head sheepishly, “yeah, i uh… yeah.”
“weren’t you the one who said that people who tattoo something of their partner’s are a different level of idiotic?” you say, quirking an eyebrow and a playful smile curling the corner of your mouth.
geto hid his face in his other hand, “don’t remind me...”
you thumb the tattoo thoughtfully, “were you thinking about me?”
“i’m always thinking about you.”
you smile at that, meeting his steady eyes, “when you did it, i mean.”
“i don’t think that changes my answer,” geto says, raising an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes.
you pretend to glare at him, straightening up and crossing your arms over your chest. “...just shut up and kiss me already,” you tell him, and he obliges immediately, pulling you in close and kissing your lips sweetly. coaxing your mouth open, he turns his head to deepen the kiss. he presses his forehead against yours when he pulls away, your lips parted still as you catch your breath.
“my forever,” he tells you, voice barely audible, but you can still hear him clear as day, “it’s yours.”
you smile, “i know.”
he wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you close, and rests his head on your shoulder, “and your forever is mine.”
“it is.”
koi's notes: okay but did they get the sushi though??? 🧐🧐 anyways dedicated to @omgeto and a huge thank you to emp and mothe (@planetxiao) because i love and appreciate y'all so very much
#s.k.#jjk#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#geto suguru fluff#jjk fluff#geto x reader#geto x you
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Temperance (1/3)
pairing: wanda maximoff x female!reader plot: Your best friend Kate convinced you to do charity work in Sokovia with some of your old classmates, including your former bully Vision and his girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, who you inconveniently took too much of a liking in. warnings: 18+ !! minors dni. wanda is with vision... also, suggestive content I guess word count: 1115
Patience is a virtue. Patience is the solution. These have been your only thoughts for days now. From a self-imposed affirmation to a recurring echo in your head, this reminder is all you had to get through the situation at hand. What else could you do? Keep trying to ignore your desire? The craving that has kept you awake for days and nights?
The thing is, you may be able to trick your brain for a while. Convince yourself that the way her nose wrinkles when she grins doesn't do anything to you. That the way her middle and ring finger draw the same patterns over and over again on the pages of her book whenever she is deep in thought, doesn't stir something inside of you. That the muffled moans coming from her and Vision's room at night don't bother you. Your brain has managed to lie to itself for a long time, but you can no longer ignore what Wanda is doing to you. So instead of denying your feelings, you decided that you have to sit through them. Until you can finally leave this place.
You weren't planning on pining after your old classmate's girlfriend, but here you were. Miles away from home, locked up with the constant reminder that you can never be with Wanda the way you want to. Originally, the three months in Sokovia were supposed to fulfill you. You just wanted to take care of the local street dogs with your best friend Kate. Do something good. That was it.
“Come on y/n, you've always had a heart for street animals,” your best friend said to you at the time. Back then she turned up at your door without a warning and told you about this great trip Vision had planned.
“Kate, I barely got anything done last semester. I can't waste another one. Besides, my boss never gives me that long of a vacation.”
You knew Kate wouldn't leave your apartment until you said yes. You could tell by the way her eyes were gleaming. How she slightly bend over the table you were sitting at, her gaze not leaving you for one second. Of course, the whole thing is much easier for Kate. Her mother is filthy rich. Kate can basically do whatever she wants. She could disappear for one year, travel the world with money she didn't earn and wouldn't have to worry about her life back home for one moment. You don't have that luxury.
“Think about it. First of all, you do something that fulfills you. Besides, I know you y/n. You haven't wanted to work in that rancid bakery for months. We'll find something new for you afterwards. Not to mention that volunteering to help street dogs for three months looks great on your CV. Plus: I heard Vision rented a mansion”
Vision. The name alone triggered something in you. Vision is not only the son of the famous billionaire Tony Stark, but also a giant asshole. Before Vision knew you were friends with Kate, he took every opportunity to trigger you in some way. Like standing in front of your locker with his group of followers for no reason, just so you couldn't get to it. The worst thing he ever did was probably when he stole your notebook and read out loud in class what you had written about your former classmate Natasha. Some cheesy and cringe poem you managed to suppress from your memories. From that day on, it wasn't just the whole school that knew you liked women. You also were never able to look Natasha in the eye again. But Vision somehow always managed to come out of it okay. His reputation was disgustingly squeaky clean.
“It's so weird imagining Vision doing something voluntarily that doesn't serve only himself. Are you sure he isn't just joking?,” you had asked back then.
“I think he has really changed since high school. Besides, his girlfriend is originally from Sokovia and I think it was her idea? I don't know for sure. But please, y/n, join me. I'd do anything to spend more than an hour a week with my best friend. And this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! Vision specifically asked if you want to join.”
You've never been able to deny Kate a wish. But also, it's never led you into such a miserable situation before. So this is where you were. In a villa far too grand for it to feel like a prison. Besides Vision, Wanda and Kate, there were two other old classmates; Steve and Bucky. Living together turned out to be easier than you thought, especially considering the fact that Vision was there. But your feelings for Wanda kept causing you problems. Whenever the redhead came near you, you started to stumble over your words. One long look alone could throw you completely off balance. But it was even worse when she smiled at you. When she listened to you and her head slightly tilted at the same time. Or when you were cooking and she suddenly appeared behind you, her hand softly placed around your waist and her head set down on your shoulder.
“What are you blessing us with this evening?,” she inquired with an almost teasing tone in her voice.
Before you were able to even articulate anything, she took her free hand, slid it along your arm and took the wooden spoon out of your hand.
“May I?,” her voice dangerously low, as she already moved the spoon towards her mouth, looking straight at you. You just gulped and managed a small nod as Wanda put the spoon in her mouth, her gaze never leaving you as she sucked it clean. Her green eyes were barely visible as her dilated pupils covered them almost completely. A soft moan escaped from her lips as she handed the spoon back to you.
“You're so good at this y/n,” Wanda groans, her hand which still holds onto your waist making its way to your lower back, smoothly slipping under your loose t-shirt. The cold rings on her fingers on your warm skin immediately sent shivers down your spine. Her pinky slightly slipped under the waistband of your sweatpants before she left you standing alone in the kitchen.
She must do this on purpose. There is no other way.
You thought to yourself. But what was the use? Either you are right and she does it on purpose or you are wrong and project your fantasies onto her. In both cases, it is best to simply stay away from Wanda. Because there is no way you don't end up completely fucked. Right?
: Part 2
#wanda maximoff#wanda x you#wanda x reader#scarlet witch#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff fanfiction#kate bishop#kate bishop x reader
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