#and then i look at my reflection and go huh

[lovieku]

DECEMBER ⋆ 정국

being with jeongguk is a gift in itself. this christmas, you’ll show him your gratitude. do whatever is on his list.

⋆⁺₊❅. 3/6 from christmas & chill

pairing dilf!jk x gf!reader

genre smut, fluff, established relationship

warnings jk 31 | oc 22, exhibitionism, public sex kinda, breeding kink, mirror sex, oral (f receiving), condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control but she won’t be anymore after this, these tags back to back are making me lose it, yeah they’re pretty horny if you couldn’t tell

word count 5.7k

author's note oki this is literally porn with plot but what do you expect me to do with dilf jk in my hands

banner by the perfect @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

“What’s on your Christmas wishlist, doll?”

“I want… I think I want a baby. And then—”

Jeongguk snorts in that way he does when he wants you to think he’s unimpressed, but really he’s just trying to think of something to shut you up, wheels turning in his head, scrambling before your teasing has an unwanted effect that might undo him.

On his couch, he pulls you closer to him as you giggle in his neck, your figure curled up in his embrace, and he caresses the side of your thigh in an impossibly gentle pattern. He’s heat incarnate, a living furnace outdoing even the fireplace softly cracking and reflecting its warmth on your faces in the dimly lit room.

His hand squeezes once, twice, then he finds you ear with his mouth, “Don’t say that.”

You pull back just enough to look at him with the biggest grin, “What’s on your list then, huh?”

Your boyfriend pretends to think it over with unusual indecision, tilting his head up to the ceiling dramatically and leaving his collar bones exposed, giving you the opportunity to further bury yourself in his warmth. Peppering small pecks onto his neck, you sigh into the comfort.

“Since we’re going in that direction,” his low tone scratches his throat and vibrates against your lips, pooling like heat where it always does when he’s this close. He pulls you impossibly tighter to his chest, mouth back to your ear just to whisper with that teasing lilt of his, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you in a public space. With people outside, you know.”

Even with your heart skipping and rolling down the tallest hill, landing right in your lower belly, you hum, feigning nonchalance, though your sarcastic nod doesn’t fool either of you. He looks down at you with a wicked smirk, one point ahead after rendering you speechless. You still try, “Yeah?”

Jeongguk doesn’t miss the chance and strikes gold, “Mhm. And I also want to give you my babies.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jeon. I’m serious.”

The older man’s laughter rings out, light and boyish in a way that doesn’t match the words he let out, nor the feel of his rough hands roaming your body. Even more when his unrelenting fingers find their way to your sides. They press in gently at first, testing. But then he really starts to tickle.

You flinch, stubbornly clamping your lips into a tight line, muscles tensing as you fight the inevitable. You think you’re determined enough not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you break, but when he moves toward your armpits, it’s over.

Your eyes squeeze shut, shoulders twitching, but it’s your mouth that betrays you first. A sharp snort escapes you and is only joined by more and more breathy giggles, air knocked out of you, “Jeongguk, no!”

His grin widens at your plea, voice mockingly stern but tone playful and sweet, “Why are you being such a brat to your old man, huh? So disrespectful.”

You shriek, squeal, the sound dissolving into waves of laughter that shake your entire body, now sprawled on the sofa and desperately trying to run away from his touch. You almost make it. Almost. But Jeongguk is faster, pinning you on the couch and tightening his hold, knees digging on either side of your hips.

The air wheezes out of you when his lips join the tickling on your neck, nipping and kissing between your gasping laughter, his own still lingering like it’s contagious. Your body twists instinctively, “Stop!”

He moves up, nose brushing against yours as he lets his voice drop even lower in a warning, “You know what to say.”

It wasn’t fair. You know what he wants to hear, but your pride digs its heels in, even as you pant for room to breathe. You struggle under him, half-heartedly trying to push his hands away, but when his hands find the sensitive spot behind your knees you just can’t help the way it spills out of you in a panicked laugh, “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”

Jeongguk finally relents, hands falling away as he collapses beside you, joining your breathless amusement. That little chant is the unspoken rule between you two, the one surefire way to end his tickle wars.

The room is silent for the small moment it takes you to even your pumping heart and slowly level your panting. Jeongguk cuddles to your side, body molding effortlessly against yours, and as his arm tightens around your waist, you speak against the space of his chest he’s pressing you into, “I could make both happen for you.”

There’s no drop of subject on your part, your words resounding in the quiet made of your moderating breaths.

Jeongguk snorts again, shuffling down and muffling his low hum in your neck. It’s his way of playing coy and pretending not to take you seriously, but you can feel his grip getting rougher.

Only when you swat him does he shift to look up at you, chin resting lazily between your breasts and lashes fluttering in exaggerated innocence, just like his words, “And how would you do that?”

“Yoongi’s Christmas party next week.”

Jeongguk’s brow quirks upward, “You want me to fuck you with all my friends outside? Didn’t you say you were scared of meeting them?”

It’s your turn to stifle a laugh, lips twitching as you turn your head away in sudden embarrassment. He leaves featherlight pecks along your jaw to quieten his own chuckles, but it only coaxes a smile out of you. You return to him with a soft expression playing on your flushed face, long dimples carving your cheeks, “I did, yes. But it’s only because I want their approval.”

Jeongguk stills for just a second as he studies you. The moment he spots the faintest flicker of genuine worry in the subtle twitch of your brows, his teasing front is thrown completely out of the window.

“Oh, my baby,” he cups your face with both hands, cradling you like his most precious possession, meeting your widening eyes when he tilts your chin. “They’ll love you, okay? It’s about time they meet the reason I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever felt in years.”

The blush creeping up your neck is inevitable, especially when his hand drifts downward, fingers resting lightly on your stomach and moving in soothing circles. A gesture so small yet telling, of how attuned he is to your every shift and need, even the ones you don’t voice.

It’s been almost a year since you and Jeongguk made things official, and the journey has been marked by slow, steady steps. No rush, no racing. Time has felt pliant, stretching out to meet you both at a pace that felt unforced. It gives you room to grow and deepen the bond that only the two of you share, unburdened by the weight of outside pressure.

Both of you have been careful, almost cautious about walking longer distances. Not out of doubt, but out of respect for what you’re building together. It’s not hesitation, it’s intention.

You fucking love this man, more fully than you even thought possible. And you’re more than sure that he’s the one, making all the waiting and searching worth it.

You’ve grown just enough to understand not everyone will accept your dynamic as easily as you’ve come to. You wanted it to feel true — to be true — between the two of you before inviting the outside world into it.

Jeongguk is 31. Successful, experienced, and carrying the scars of a rough divorce. You’re 22, still a student, scraping together what you can to get through each month, too focused on textbooks and exams to know anything about adulthood yet.

By all accounts, your paths should never have crossed in any meaningful way. Yet, they did. You found each other, and you blossomed to love one another. What seemed complicated came down to a feeling so intricate and achingly simple.

There’s no denying love. There’s no grand, pragmatic solution for it. You can’t push it aside just because it doesn’t fit into neat societal boxes. And you can’t push him away.

Still, you’re not blind to how others might see it. Outsiders, with judgments and assumptions, could scoff and accuse you of chasing wealth, or sneer at him and reduce his intentions to shallow desires for a younger distraction.

Those tired, clichéd narratives miss the way your brain quietens when he’s near, his laughter filling gaps in your life you didn’t know were empty. They couldn’t be further from the truth, from what truly binds you together. Love.

And, well, sex. The sex is fucking great. Makes you wonder how you ever lived without it before him.

“The horniest, too,” you quip, deflecting from the fleeting vulnerability with a playful smirk that has Jeongguk groaning, rolling his eyes the same way he’s shifting beneath you to effortlessly maneuver you until you’re lying on top of him.

Jeongguk tilts his head back, dark eyes narrowing in mock challenge as he jumps between your face and the smirk that refuses to fade. His own grin is barely concealed, and his voice drops to a familiar low timbre, “Don’t try anything funny, doll.”

“I’m just saying… I’ll do whatever is on your list.”

────⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆────

Spending your first Christmas wrapped in the warmth of your boyfriend’s presence leaves no room for anything but a jaw-breaking smile that swells your heart. The kind that doesn’t fade, no matter how much your cheeks ache, and twingles with the soft glow of the lights strung around the room. Especially when you get to discover a new side of Jeongguk, one that blooms brighter the more he’s surrounded by his closest friends.

You can see the love in the crinkle of his eyes when he laughs and lets it resound freely, how he eats comfortably without any of the reserved mannerism he sometimes carries in public, the way he tosses out teasing remarks and takes them just as easily. It all makes you feel less nervous, and it soothes the anxiety you’d been carrying.

Still, you stick to his side, either with your leg brushing against his under the table or your fingers intertwining in a touch that seeks for comfort. Though with the hours stretching, you find there’s no real reason to feel intimidated.

Everyone welcomes you like you’ve always been part of Jeongguk, and they were just waiting for you to step into the missing space beside him. It’s in the easy smiles they offer, the warmth in their laughter as they include you in their conversations without hesitation. You settle in that place with sheepish smiles, a soft voice chiming in here and there, and the quiet admiration that fills you each time your gaze follows Jeongguk’s every movement is enough for his friends to see he’s in good hands.

But you can’t ignore the thought that keeps making your head spin every time Jeongguk casually rests a hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the skin like a slow burn.

You might blame it on the baby fever that’s been clinging to you since earlier, making you warm and sugary with emotions, when you witnessed him distracting Yoongi’s daughter from a tantrum while having her sit on his lap, a gentle hand on her back. Which has to be chalked up to your ovulation phase.

Or maybe you can just blame it entirely on him and the sultry voice he used to confess the dirtiest wish on his list nights ago.

After he did, you’ve hinted at it an unhealthy amount of times, more than you’d care to admit, and it always ended the same way. You, folded in half on his bed, strong arms gripping your hips as he rutted into you with an urgency that bordered on desperation and that had you both unraveling with pleasured wails.

It’s become your own desire more than his at this point. An all-consuming thought that refuses to be brushed aside, especially today, on this occasion. The perfect occasion to make it happen. Fuck, get a grip.

The command feels laughably weak in the face of temptation. How could you resist when Jeongguk looks like he does? He’s draped in a warm, Christmas-red sweater that’s practically begging you to be peeled off, its sleeves rolled just enough to reveal glimpses of the tattoos that snake up his forearm, and enough for your thighs to press together. His hair is freshly cut and styled. And on top of everything, he smells deliciously. His scent is just the perfect, intoxicating, masculine mix of aftershave and cologne.

But you think your breaking point is feeling him sneakily leaning closer when he thinks no one is looking, the brush of his breath near your neck, his nose ghosting over your skin as though probing your resolve. And you’re definitely failing the test.

The scrape of your chair against the floor as you stand abruptly startles not only Jeongguk but everyone at the table. Gulping, you stumble on your speech as you ask for directions to the bathroom and the words coming from Yoongi’s mouth barely register in your mind, body moving on autopilot, turning sharply toward the hallway in hopes that your subconscious will guide you the rest of the way.

You miss Jeongguk’s head tilting in adorable confusion, that signature gesture of concern pairing with knitted brows as he watches you disappear. When he glances back at his friends, they just shrug and resume their conversation.

The moment you lock the door behind you with the sound of the latch clicking into place, your back meets the wood with a forceful push, a little too rough, but entirely necessary. You’re desperately trying to knock some needed sense into yourself, and you follow with deep, measured breaths.

To no avail. The persistent buzz low in your belly hums louder, the embarrassingly quick slick heat pooling between your thighs becoming almost unbearable, especially with the thin lace of your panties doing little to ease your discomfort. You had put them on at the prospect of what would follow the dinner. What you’d hoped to save for the privacy of your home, not here.

Not here.

Stepping toward the sink, you grip its cool porcelain edges as though it could pull your composure together. Lifting your eyes to the mirror, you’re met with your own reflection. Wide-eyed, cheeks flushed, lips parted. A look you know all too well.

You reach up to fix your perfectly styled hair, smoothing it down in a feigned attempt to focus on something else that is not this. But the more you try, the more you stare back at your delirious state, the more you question if feeling such an attraction is even sane, healthy.

You can perfectly picture Jeongguk standing behind you, body pressing against yours, hands gliding over your hips, lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. Jeongguk would take care of what he’s unconsciously caused, wouldn’t he? He’d work to tick that one wish off his list.

The thought alone has your nails scraping against the cold surface of the counter, and your eyes squeezing shut. It frustrates you to inhumane levels, how easily he reduces you to this pubescent state, as if you’ve never known control.

What makes you release a breathy scoff in the small space is the knowledge that he hasn’t even touched you tonight.

When you feel your phone ping in your purse, you‘re startled out of the dangerous spiral that had nearly pulled your hand beneath the hem of your dress. Your gaze flickers to the mirror, where the vivid reflection of Jeongguk had started to feel too real.

Your fingers clumsily dig past lipstick tubes and stray receipts until they close around the device. The screen lights up with his name, paired with that little bear emoji he insisted on adding beside it.

JJ🧸🎀: Everything ok?

You only hesitate for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard. But your thumbs move before your brain can stop them.

You: can u come help me plz

The knock at the door comes almost instantly, unexpected enough to make you stumble before you reach out to twist the handle, pulling the door only as to reveal your figure in the narrow frame.

He nods your chin at you with curious concern, “Let me in?”

Looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes through long lashes and under drawn up eyebrows, you swear you catch the faintest flicker of something primal in his own.

You step back to let him enter, the small space feeling even smaller with his gaze never once leaving you, tracking your every movement like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at.

The soft click of the door locking behind him is all it takes for his warm palms to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks, “Sweetheart, what happened?”

You only shake your head, and his hands slip from their hold on you as your back meets the cool edge of the sink counter behind you. The plush curve of your ass squishes with the pressure, and he briefly darts downward to take in the soft fabric of your dress clinging to your frame before snapping up to meet you again.

“Talk to me,” he urges, almost pleading.

Looking down, you just now notice how your shoe has loosened around your calf, and alternating between his brows dipping low over widened pupils and your heels, you seem to not even be able to control the way your foot trails up your leg in a feigned sheepish demeanor, your cheek resting on your shoulder.

You try to fight the smile by biting on your lower lip, and in the softest voice you surrender to your stubborn, persistent need with a flimsy excuse, “Clasp on this heel is so thin… I can’t close it.”

Jeongguk’s every sense is alert. His eyes follow your line of sight with urgence, ready to cater to your every request, do all it takes to make sure you’re safe, hands twitching at his sides the more his protective instinct kicks in.

But it doesn’t take much longer to detect the real intentions behind your creased forehead in pretend worry, breath catching in your throat the moment you spot the shift in his eyes. Now hooded, heavy.

He looks back up at you just to seek confirmation of your plan all along, and lets an exasperated chuckle escape him when you can only pout enough to make your impatience clear.

Jeongguk hums, taking one step closer until the counter edge digs behind your thighs, your figure almost sitting up on the surface, “Does my girl need help, hm? Is that so?”

It’s useless wasting more time. It’s useless trying to avoid it and pretend this exact moment isn’t what has been dominating your mind the whole day, both too proud to voice it but too naughty to actually suppress it.

So Jeongguk slowly gets down, never once looking away from your expectant eyes, not missing the way your chest gasps. You nod just as sluggish, mouth left slightly agape, too entranced by the look on your boyfriend’s face and his hand settling on your ankle to gently lift your foot and rest it on his propped-up knee.

When he patiently works on the struggle ahead with the tips of his careful fingers delicately brushing against your skin, it’s nearly torture trying to remain composed.

Now done with the pathetic excuse, your shoe properly set in place, Jeongguk is only getting started with the real reason he’s kneeling before you.

Jeongguk doesn’t rise right away. Instead, taking his pointer finger, he traces a teasing line up your calf that causes immediate goosebumps to prickle your skin, betraying just how deeply his actions affect you. He follows the trail up, and up, until reaching the side of your thigh. That’s when he stutters.

With your leg up, the skirt of your mini dress has ridden dangerously high and as a result it does very little to hide what’s underneath it, especially when the lacy panties you chose to wear are barely even doing their original job at covering you.

Chuckling lowly, his jaw clenches, “Baby.”

His vibrating tone runs as a pleasing buzz along your spine, and it has you straightening your posture the more you feel yourself slip under his control. You tilt your head, suddenly not so confident anymore in the game you started.

He slowly blinks up at you, sliced eyes matching perfectly with the wicked smirk on his lips, and the look he reserves you with is intense with something that doesn’t allow to go back, “What is this, huh? Did you plan it?”

You can only shake your head, afraid that if you speak you’re going to give you two away without even starting anything.

And he’s making it extra hard, especially when his digit travels up to your inner thigh, gaze never leaving yours, “Do you always go around with these kinds of panties on, doll?”

Guilty. Of course you don’t. Whole night has been sticky and uncomfortable. So yeah, this was indeed a plan. But now that it succeeded, you’re suddenly not sure how to act upon your own needs, intimidated by the man at your feet. You move your face side to side, faster this time.

Jeongguk gently lets his head fall to the right, his curls jumping with the movement, and he sounds softer than the way his hand is already pushing your leg to the side, “What do you want me to do, hm?”

It’s impossible to keep the moan you were forcing down your throat with his firm touch on your burning skin. It gets a chuckle out of him, and the subtle tinge of degradation has you pushing yourself further into his face, mere centimetres apart from your embarrassingly wet core.

He seems totally unfazed by your desperation, keeping his eyes trained on your face no matter how great the temptation to just dive into you already is. Jeongguk can smell you, and he could just lean forward a bit more to have the tip of his nose brush against your clit. But he resists.

He nods his chin up to you, his breath fanning over your clothed pussy, and he keeps the challenge up, ignoring the way your eyebrows draw up and paint you in deliriousness, “Use your words. Tell me what you need.”

Even in your haze, you’re mindful to keep your tone down, and the otherwise loud whine escapes you in the form of a whimper, your tummy going up and down with your panting and your thighs unconsciously parting in an attempt to have him pay attention to what clearly doesn’t need to be explained.

Jeongguk doesn’t want to act upon clues, though. You put both of you in this situation, and now he simply wants to know why.

Gulping at his intense gaze not once leaving your shaking and blown out pupils, you whisper a strained plea, “I want you to touch me. Been thinking about this all night.”

His condescending smile is accompanied by a long, belittling hum, his eyes finally dropping low to inspect the wet patch expanding from your clenching hole. From where it had flattened around your knee, Jeongguk lets his palm travel under your dress and across your lower tummy, caressing it while subtly letting his thumb brush past the hem of your panties.

You jut your hips forward, feverish with the minimum stimulation of his breath against your sex, but you’ll learn the hard way to not be so impatient, your boyfriend’s hand pressing against your stomach to push you back down on the counter.

The pressure feels nice, and he knows it. There’s no uncalculated action in the way he touches you; he’s memorised what your every sound of pleasure corresponds to. Nonetheless, he keeps taunting you.

Keeping his hand cupping the skin around your navel, he uses his other calloused one to spread your legs open and allow himself to have you. Or at least you think so, before he uses his lips to further tease you, his tongue skimming the wet spots on the inside of your thighs without never even brushing the pulse and center of all your needs.

Before you can protest and fully push yourself on him, he looks up at you with a warning ready on his lips, “Be fucking quiet, doll, I swear.”

And it’s like he does it on purpose, because he willingly doesn’t give you any time to prepare and just latches at your wetness through the slicked material, making it hard to stifle the first moan threatening to topple out of you.

The pace he picks up is torturous, and his saliva blending with your own wetness causes your panties to stick uncomfortably in between your puffy lips. You huff, protest ready on your tongue, but Jeongguk precedes you and pulls the piece to the side, not once detaching from your weeping cunt, the sudden coldness of the room that hits your exposed folds immediately being replaced with his warm desire.

He doesn’t have time to scold you for your behaviour, but oh, he will. The way you’re clutching tightly on his hair and rutting into his lapping tongue, struggling to keep your noises down; how you impatiently rush him to get you to that high you desperately seek. You were never granted permission.

So, he allows himself to be just a bit mean to you, his licking along your slit slow and fleeting, almost imperceptible, his grip poking harsh cavities in your skin that will leave marks. Not that you mind.

When he growls lowly against you with his nose brushing your most sensitive spot, it’s your clue to push the testing-his-patience to the side and maybe act less like a brat. There’s no time, and you really want — need — whatever he’s willing to give you.

With a hand curling around the edge of the counter, you use the other to stifle your moans, and his approving nod vibrates with a hum and pulses with your clenching hole. He starts to lap at your core now, engulfing your lips and nuzzling himself closer to your entrance.

“You’re so bad,” it comes out slurred and muffled, but the humiliation settles in you with a pleasing buzz that has your hips stuttering when he nudges your center with the tip of his tongue. The sound you let out in response is close to a cry that you quickly swallow, fighting hard to be obedient and keep down, even more when he continues with his belittling comments against your throbbing walls, “First on the naughty list this year, huh.”

As much as the both of you love the chase, Jeongguk knows he has to get you close to a breaking point if he doesn’t want the others to suspect your absence. That’s why he moves his warm muscles up to your clit and lets his two digits join the stimulation, only causing more slickness to smear a mess between your legs.

Your body involuntarily runs after the cruel curling of his fingers, forcing their space inside your mushy walls, warm and clutching around him the more his tongue picks up its pace. You can feel him panting against you, and his laboured breaths only work to bring you to the ecstasy you’ve been daydreaming about for days now.

He does exactly what it takes last to undo you, speaking between trails of your stickiness and efforts to slurp every single drop of it you offer him, “C’mon, pretty. Cum before the others find you like this.”

You choke on a gasped moan, your body convulsing with the incessant provocation and the attempt at keeping louder sounds stifled behind strained whines. Jeongguk gulps down your essence, lapping at every corner of your core to make sure he doesn’t miss none of the reason you’re shaking for.

Only when you unconsciously try to avoid his grip on you does he detach from you, letting his devilish gaze drag up, slowly along with his body. Before he gives the two of you any possibility of speaking, he crashes onto you, mouth chasing yours in a kiss that has you tasting your own self mixed with him.

He pants, moving with a smirk on his glossy, puffy lips, “Satisfied?”

The breathy giggle fanning against him lets him know that you are far from that, “Didn’t you say something about fucking me? You seem hard.”

“God, I can never make that pretty mouth of yours shut up, huh. You want my cock? That what you badly want?”

It was never this easy to get Jeongguk to give in so quickly to your bed requests. Usually, it was a game of hunting, of resistance, of testing the other’s resolve to see who would break first. But now, it’s different, and there’s no hesitation in the way he tugs at his pants, breath ragged and his focus entirely on you.

The moment his length is freed, already hard from eating you out and throbbing with need, he doesn’t wait for permission—he never has to with you. You realize how completely your moans and whimpers have filled the air and how incapable you are at quietness.

How can you be when the sound of him slapping his thick shaft against your lower stomach sends a new jolt of arousal coursing through your body?

“Lay back,” Jeongguk rasps, nudging you with his hips, and you obey without question, your palms supporting your weight on the counter.

He lets his tip drag over your slick folds before pushing his whole cock in, the suddenty of the action meeting your anticipation with a gasp leaving both your mouths.

Jeongguk only forces himself deeper, quickly adjusting to a preferred pace once he checks that you’re okay with a small nod. Because he knows it’ll be hard to slow down once you give him the go ahead.

He’s never been this embarrassingly close from simple teasing and foreplay, but his thrusts become stammered almost too early, and he thinks it has everything to do with you granting his only wish on his Christmas list and being so eager to tick it off for him.

He wants to do it for you, too, “Fuck, baby. I’ll cum inside you, hm? Keep all my mess stuffed in your tight hole. Make your wish come true.”

The implications behind his slurred speech have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth hanging open to release your every breathy whimper. Jeongguk knows you’re on the pill, and for this exact reason it’s not the first time he finishes in you.

Yet, the shift in his tone and the reasons he decided to speak that last sentence cause you to throb uncontrollably in overstimulation around his thick length, making it a struggle for him to slide easily into you.

Making your wish come true, the one you jokingly whispered to him on your couch a week ago, means one thing. The knowledge of Jeongguk wanting to fill you with his babies moves something so deeply instilled within you that you can’t help the wail escaping you, immediately burying your face in the curve of his broad shoulder and biting at the skin.

He has to fight just as hard when he feels your pussy contract, knows you’re getting closer again, feels himself dangerously near to breaking as well, mouth parted and brows knitted, delirium washing over his face.

Lifting his gaze up from your enthralling orbs, he catches sight of your tangled bodies in the mirror behind you and groans, clutching your hips tighter to angle himself just enough to perfectly witness himself sinking in you at a relentless speed in the reflection.

“Oh doll, fuck,” his expression is hard and focused, the way his jaw ticks only adding to the feverish look, and his voice is rough from the whispering, “Look behind. Look at us in the mirror, how well you’re taking me.”

You manage to weakly turn your head enough to witness your naked bodies blending together at your centers, his muscled hands tightly clutching at you and digging marks that will leave their signs for a while.

Weakly, your head falls back and you let a particularly loud whimper flow freely out of you. Jeongguk would be a hypocrite if he were to shut you up, because his own grunts resonate against the empty walls the more he buries his greedy length in you.

He hopes the music he convinced the others to put on before leaving the room to check on you in the bathroom is enough to pad the inglorious sounds of skin meeting and breaths shortening.

The noises seem to suddenly alarm you to the point of cradling the side of his face with your soft palm and moving him to you, just to catch his mouth with yours in a kiss that’s all teeth and spit, that vibrates with the moans you struggle to swallow.

His pounding stutters the more he fucks into you, and he manages a few flicks at your clit before thrusting hard and steady, once, twice, three times, emptying himself in you. The warm feeling of his white semen filling you to the brim comes with a new emotion tonight, and you pulse around him in your second climax.

There’s no time to recover from the high when his whispered plea meets your ear, “Baby. Need to fuck you again.”

You pant, thoughts confused, speech slurred, “What?”

“Let me take you home, c’mon. I wanna pump you full of me again, and again, and again. Until you can feel it, can’t escape it.”

The intensity in his eyes conveys a love that contrasts deliciously with the lust still clouding the stuffy bathroom, his lips closing around pecks down your jaw, then under it, then along your neck.

You’re hoping that what he’s saying is exactly what you want it to be, “Jeongguk…”

Cradling your face, he speaks against your mouth, “I love you so much, doll. We’re making it happen. Let me practice for now, hm?”

A smile parts its way across your face, soft and full, and you can’t suppress it even if you tried, even when you try, “But the others—”

“Need you. Now.”

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Something I like to note in my interaction with media is always “am I taking this as education, or inspiration?”

And that’s the important difference I believe.

If your worldview was opened and inspired by AT:LA, if you (assuming you’re a very privileged, sheltered adult I guess) learnt about say revolutions and genocide and imperialism and so on and so forth for the first time from AT;LA and it inspired you to read more articles and more reliable sources of media to gain a proper perspective, grounded in reality? That’s actually pretty great

If you refuse to interact with political content beyond a child’s show, beyond the very simplified representation of censorship in Ba Sing Se, beyond Zuko’s redemption arc/efforts in recovering from abuse, beyond the wipeout of the Airbenders and their culture, then we have a problem

Stories… are fiction, but they can teach a little, not a lot, a kernel of truth, and that is enough to serve their true purpose of inspiration.

Yes there’s such incredible skill in these stories, in Suzanne Collins’ biting and fiery allegory for the Hollywood machine (and reflection of the extremely corrupt class system + political empire of the US), in Princess Mononoke’s sincere heartfelt plea for environmentalism and balance between nature and humanity

But they are not the be all and end all. Miyazaki did not write Howl’s Moving Castle to teach you to lock yourselves out of the wider political environment around you, to passively call for pacifism as bombs are dropped by those you know, nor was it written to encourage you to condemn every leader or war started. It was written to present his perspective and personal anger over the Iraq War, writing a film he “felt would be poorly received in the US” (Wikipedia) Yes the story it’s telling you of pacifism and integrity is important, but as inspiration, it will not and should not be your guide to war. What is important here is what it could lead you to read, hell if you were as enchanted and interested as I was by this movie then it could lead you right back to the context, the reason for it being written. This could then lead you to researching the Iraq war, to learning why Miyazaki felt strongly, to look at further criticisms against the Bush administration.

That’s what it did for me. I didn’t know anything about American politics, but while studying the story for some other reasons (Heroine’s Journey related of course) I noticed why pacifism was an important theme. It wasn’t enough to get me interested, American politics weren’t necessarily linked to me (or at least that’s the default I submitted to thinking) but it opened my mind a bit. Okay huh that’s interesting, keep a note on that

It’s a note that then got added to when I read several Tumblr posts on issues with the Bush administration, then others on America and its founding. It got added to further when I learnt about Israel and Palestine, and then given some emotional, moral context as I learnt of Israel and Palestine and the atrocities occurring there and how many were likening it to what America did in Iraq and Afghanistan (since I really was too young to remember or think critically over them when they were going on)

There’s still so much I don’t know, I’m so young and even younger in my political knowledge.

What’s important is that as I grow the sources of information grow with me. Stories are important for so much, they are empowering and cathartic, a way to challenge you and inspire you, they are an expression, a call to arms, a hug around your shoulders on cold rainy days, but you cannot and should not live on a diet of fairytales and fantasies.

only reading ya or only watching kids shows is tremendously destructive to your ability to create or understand fiction (as any extremely narrow fiction intake is) but also ultimately that is not a super important skill in life or indicative of any deficiency of character

[ruruumin]

take my body back.

₊˚ ᗢ itoshi rin x childhood friend! fem! reader.

⤷ swapping bodies with isagi was not on his things to do, but loving you is.

this might have been either the worst thing imaginable, or the most humiliating. he is looking at himself in the mirror, eyes twitching. he brings up one hand to pull down the underside of his lower eyelashes. 

after crashing into each other during a practice game, isagi and rin had mysteriously swapped bodies. with stifled laughter from the rest of their team, they had to stay within the same infirmary until things settled down. ego chalked it up to being a very rare malfunction in their suits. while he works on a solution with anri, the two were dismissed from practices all together.

isagi was the more panicky of the two. he was looking at himself frantically in the mirror, shaking bachira by the shoulder in a frenzy. he couldn’t go home. not like this, he kept saying. even though isagi’s wish of being taller and physically stronger, he did not mean he wanted to be in rin’s body.

“what is so wrong with my body?” rin asks, albeit in isagi’s voice, coming off higher pitched and squeakier to his ears. 

“nothing!” isagi instantly shuts his mouth. he raises both of his hands, waving them around as he looks in all sorts of directions. being in the wrong body felt so weird. hearing rin’s voice come off as shy and embarrassed was the last thing on bachira and nagi’s bucket list. and god did they take pleasure out of their torment.

“its just that—how are we supposed to go back to our normal lives like this?” he confesses, scratching the back of his neck, “if i show up to my moms doorstep she’ll get the wrong idea!”

rin blinks slowly, a dull look casting over isagi’s body. “stop making such a big deal out of it. it’ll be fixed soon.” throwing a towel over his shoulder, rin is about to leave the locker rooms (in his body) before isagi reaches out to stop him.

“what about your girlfriend, what is she going to say?”

now this is the unfortunate reality. 

he has no idea how you will react to him going back home in a completely different body. and although you knew isagi in passing, he can’t just show up to your shared apartment like this. its a sick and cruel joke, he thought to himself. rin glances over to isagi with a hardened gaze.

him and his six foot body, long lower eyelashes and scowl are now being flipped inside out and upside down. seeing it as a different person and not just a reflection confuses him on unimaginable levels.

whatever he’s suggests next comes off like acid on his tongue.

.☘︎ ݁˖

you are shocked when you open the door. seeing two men, one of which is your boyfriend, and the other his rival, with opposite expressions. isagi is staring at you with a deep grimace while rin looks happy and relieved to see you. 

“let us in.” isagi, no, rin commands. 

“why is isagi here?” you ask, pressing your lips together as you step to the side. they shuffled out of their shoes, dropping them next to the cubby beside the door. “you should have told me if we were going to have guests over, i would have tidied up a little.”

rin’s eyes scans over your figure. you were wearing a plain t shirt and shorts, your hair was a bit of a frazzled mess, a clear sign that you had just woken up from your nap. he has half a heart to hug you right then and there, but touching you in isagi’s body is going to feel like poison. 

to his horror, you’re by isagi’s side, helping him take off his jacket. rin immediately reaches over to stop you, giving you a deadly glare.

“don’t touch him.” he warns.

this leads you to push him off to the side, frowning. “what are you doing?” in an accusatory tone, you peel off the jacket, “what has gotten into you, isagi? you used to be so polite.” 

“a-ah, well-” isagi bashfully looks away, “the thing is, i’m actually not rin.” 

“huh?”

rin pushes isagi away from you (god forbid he touches you in isagi’s body), huffing as he does so. feeling his chest through isagi’s hands is horrifically gross and he swears he will rip ego in half if he doesn’t find a solution quickly. 

after some short but confusing explanation from isagi, the two of them were seated on the couch while you stood over them. with a hand on your hip, you mumble something underneath your lips, trying to wrap your head around the strange phenomenon. 

“so my boyfriend is in...your body,” you point at rin’s body, dragging it over to isagi, “and you’re in rin’s body.” 

“that’s what we’re trying to tell you.” 

you flick rin’s forehead, causing him to deliver a sharp exhale, “this is your fault for not being more careful during practice matches. what happened to taking care of yourself? did it go in one ear and out the other?”

“of course not,” he huffs, brushing through his hair but noticing how much shorter it is now that he isn’t in his actual body. 

“this idiot over here was the one who got the yellow card.” 

“huh?”

isagi shoves a finger at rin, “you’re the one who rammed into me!” 

“can it!” 

the two of them start to bicker with one another. as serious as a head injury might be, you’re honestly flabbergasted seeing them together like this. it almost cracks a smile on your face when you see rin’s body soften. but you awkwardly clear your throat, breaking up the argument with a sigh.

“do you need a place to stay for the night?” you turn to isagi, “we can give you the couch to sleep on if you’re not comfortable going home right now. i think its the least i can do since rin has been so much trouble for you.”

before the man could protest at your words, isagi beamed with happiness and relief, “that would be great (name). i don’t want to overstay my welcome so i’ll leave tomorrow morning to see ego.”

“i can’t believe my rin rin can look this peaceful,” you say, swooning a little bit. 

“shut up,” rin claps a hand over your mouth, “all this nonsense is making me tired.” 

despite his harsh and seemingly cold words, you can read him too easily. the subtle touch on your shoulder is enough for you to decipher his wants, and what he wants right now is to unravel in your arms.

placing a hand on his lower bicep, you guide him into your shared bedroom, not before waving to isagi to tell him that you will fetch a warm blanket later. he nods and gives you few kind words. it makes you want to laugh at how obvious it was that they swapped bodies. rin can be polite to you, but never this polite. it makes the situation all the more entertaining when you feel your boyfriend drag you into your rooms.

away from isagi’s prying eyes, he is leaning his head against your shoulder, slowly exhaling. his chest moves up and down, shoulders racking down with shivers. you bring up one hand to pat him on the back, pulling him down from cloud nine. anymore of your warmth and he thinks he is about to sink into you. he has to hold back the urge to squeeze you because the body he is in is not his. 

its killing him inside how he wants to love you. 

you, his childhood friend and biggest fan, his light and first (possibly only) love. standing so cute and comfortable in front of him with eyes so warm it could melt his cold, popsicle-self into a pool of sticky wetness. he doesn’t mind that you aren’t dressed up. he thinks its even better, seeing you like this.

he doesn’t like how much shorter he is now. he used to be able to press a kiss on the top of your head with ease. now he’s...fun-sized, as he would put it. he lacks the arm muscles hes so used to having. he doesn’t have the confident suave he was born with (something you’ve always told was a birthright of the itoshi family).

it could have been worse, he tells himself. imagine he swapped bodies with igaguri or shidou. he would have thrown himself into the nearest river if he had to come home to you in shidou’s body. the thought alone makes him want to gag.

but with you in his arms, it makes his heart grow bigger. like the christmas grinch, he has finally found his happiness and the whimsical joys that come from being your boyfriend. its seriously killing him inside, he wants to kiss you with his own lips, hold you with his own arms, and carry you off into the distance in his body. 

you wipe away a string of tears that dribble down his cheek. he didn’t realize he was crying until he heard your gentle whispers. even though he no longer looks like sae, he misses his own body. he yearns to see the scowl on his face that he has grown to slowly love, only because you kept pressing kisses to his cheeks and dimples. he wants to see his hands on your hips, lifting you off the ground and onto the kitchen counters to hold you even closer to his chest, to kiss you at the same height.

he didn’t realize how much he has taken for granted until he was in someone else’s shoes. 

when you brush his, or isagi’s hair, he just wishes he could turn back the clock and kiss you stupid. steal the air from your lungs that he swore belongs to him, and him only. 

that night might have been the most strangest yet sweetest experience in the world. with isagi taking the couch and you and rin sleeping on the ground next to him (he didn’t want to sleep in an empty bed without you, and vise versa, he promises he wouldn’t let you be alone as long as he was here). 

hes holding onto your hand with his pinky, a subtle touch that sends warmth down his spine. even in a different body, you still love him.

and he loves you, so much that it hurts.

[inksoakedparchment]

UGLY SWEATER

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

genre: fluff

trope: couple goals

word cunt: 315

tw: nond

a/n: my dear babyyyy

You’d never seen Bucky Barnes look so uncomfortable.

Standing in the middle of your living room, he tugged at the garish red-and-green sweater you’d insisted he wear. It was adorned with blinking LED lights, fluffy white pom-poms, and an image of a winking Santa holding a candy cane. If that wasn’t enough, the words “Sleigh My Name” were embroidered in glittery gold across the front.

“This feels like a crime,” he muttered, glancing down at himself with a grimace.

“You look amazing,” you teased, biting back a laugh.

“I look ridiculous.”

“That’s the point! It’s an ugly Christmas sweater, Bucky.”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and amusement. “You couldn’t find one that was… less ugly?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you countered, crossing the room to adjust one of the pom-poms dangling precariously off his shoulder. “Besides, I think you’re pulling it off. You’ve got that whole rugged charm meets festive disaster thing going on.”

Bucky snorted, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Festive disaster, huh?”

“Exactly.”

His gaze softened as he looked down at you, the faint glow of the sweater’s blinking lights reflecting in his blue eyes. “You’re lucky I like you,” he murmured, his voice low enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You grinned, stepping back to admire your work. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you the one with the reindeer twerking.”

He laughed at that, the sound warm and genuine, and you couldn’t help but join in.

“Alright,” he said, rolling his eyes but still smiling. “But if Steve ever sees me in this, we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Deal,” you promised, though you secretly planned to snap a picture the first chance you got.

And as you both settled onto the couch, the blinking sweater still obnoxiously glowing, you couldn’t help but think Bucky had never looked more perfect.

taglist: @sunkissedscribbles @kandis-mom @idkkkkkkk123lgb @nottslvttt

[vmrsdias]

Insecure

Pairing: Ruben Dias x reader

Plot: You’re different from those girls Ruben used to go out with

Author's note: English is not my first language

It was a foggy evening in London, and the city lights shimmered through the large windows of the restaurant where a charity event had just concluded. y/n walked beside Ruben, clutching his arm, the sound of her heels on the pavement echoing her muddled thoughts.

“Everything okay?” Ruben asked, noticing her distant expression.

y/n forced a smile. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine at all. During the event, Ruben had bumped into one of his exes, Isabelle, a French model who looked like she had just stepped off the cover of Vogue. Their conversation had been cordial, even warm, and y/n had felt like a piece of furniture, invisible and insignificant next to that perfect woman. Every smile and word exchanged between them had been a reminder of how different she was from Ruben’s world.

Once outside the restaurant, Ruben ran into Bernardo Silva and a couple of other teammates, who greeted him enthusiastically.

“Ruben, as great as ever!” Bernardo said, clapping him on the shoulder. Then he noticed y/n and smiled. “And who’s this beautiful lady? You’ve outdone yourself, as always.”

Ruben laughed, pulling y/n closer. “This is y/n. And please, don’t put any strange ideas in her head.”

“Don’t worry, Ruben, I don’t need him to feel inadequate,” y/n replied with an ironic smile, trying to lighten the tension she felt inside. But Ruben turned to her, raising an eyebrow, sensing the undertone of her words.

After saying goodbye to the others, Ruben helped her into the car. “You were amazing tonight,” he said as he started the engine. “Everyone loved your speech.”

“Thank you,” y/n replied, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. Once inside the car, she stared at her reflection in the window. The dress she had chosen so carefully now seemed too simple, too… insignificant.

When they got home, Ruben took off his jacket and collapsed onto the couch. “What an intense evening, huh?” he said, flashing her a tired but affectionate smile.

y/n nodded but didn’t join him. Instead, she headed to the bedroom, where she began removing her earrings in front of the mirror. She couldn’t shake the image of Isabelle from her mind: tall, elegant, with a presence that filled the room. And then there was her, a simple psychology student who felt out of place in that world of luxury and glamour.

Ruben joined her shortly after, leaning against the doorframe. “Are you okay?” he repeated, this time with a note of concern.

y/n turned to him, unsure whether to speak or not. But eventually, the words spilled out. “How can you be with me, Ruben? After everything you’ve had? After women like Isabelle?”

He stared at her, surprised. “What? Where is this coming from?”

She shook her head, feeling tears sting her eyes. “I stood next to you all evening, but I couldn’t help feeling… less. Less beautiful, less interesting, less suited for you.”

Ruben stepped closer, taking her hands and forcing her to look into his eyes. “Amor, stop it. Don’t say things like that.”

“But it’s true,” y/n insisted, pulling her hands away. “Look at Isabelle! She belongs in your world. I… I spend my days studying and doing internships. I don’t even know how to act in places like tonight.”

“You belong in my world more than anyone else,” Ruben said firmly. “Do you know why? Because you’re real. Because you’re you. Isabelle is part of the past. You are my present and my future.”

y/n looked at him, trying to believe his words. “But don’t you miss that kind of life? Those kinds of people?”

Ruben smiled and shook his head. “No. Do you know what I miss when you’re not around? The way you laugh at silly jokes. The way you get lost in your thoughts while studying. The way you make me feel at home, even when we’re on the other side of the world.”

At that moment, Ruben’s phone vibrated. It was a message in the team group chat. Bernardo had written: “Your y/n is a gem, brother. You’re a lucky man.” Ruben showed the message to y/n, who read it with a small smile. “See?” Ruben said. “It’s not just me who thinks so.”

“But I…” y/n began, but Ruben interrupted her.

“There are no ‘buts,’” he said. “You’re everything I want, y/n. I wouldn’t change a thing about you. Not a single thing.”

She lowered her gaze, torn between wanting to believe him and the voice in her head that kept whispering she wasn’t enough. “And what if one day everything changes? If I stop being enough for you?”

Ruben leaned down slightly, bringing himself to her level. “You’re already enough. You’re everything. And every time you doubt that, I’ll remind you how special you are to me.”

The tears y/n had been holding back finally fell, and Ruben pulled her into a tight embrace, as if trying to banish all her insecurities. But that night, as he slept peacefully beside her, y/n lay awake, staring at the ceiling. She loved that man with all her heart, but every day she fought against the idea of not being good enough. Perhaps, she thought, love isn’t just about accepting the other person but also learning to accept yourself.

[hynjinsworld]

Mr. Secret

pairing: rockstar!hyunjin x subfem!reader

warning: swearing, name calling, oral sex, p in v, rough sex, MDNI!

wc: 3.2k

genre: Angst to Smut

summary: Y/n was invited to Stray Kids celebration party. However, when Y/n catches Hyunjin kissing a random girl, jealousy emerges to which causes a problem, making only the solution of having sex with one another.

Lights flash violently with loud beats bouncing off every wall inside the house. The ambiance is electric, with only the dim kitchen light providing a soft glow amidst the chaos. Girls are dancing or grinding up against their boyfriends or random men, creating a whirlwind of movement and lost into the crowd. The house is packed with people, all gathered to celebrate the success of the rock band Stray Kids. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation. Therefore, Y/n found herself as a special guest of none other than Hwang Hyunjin from Stray Kids. Despite her close ties with Hyunjin and the band, it surprisingly didn't stir much attention, apart from a few curious remarks from their dedicated fandom. But secretly, no one knew the intense and electrifying past they shared. It wasn't that they were dating, nor could it be called friends with benefits; it was something deeper, a clandestine connection driven by raw, unrestrained pleasure.

As the evening progressed, Y/n sat on the stool, her eyes locked on Hyunjin as he laughed and mingled with the crowd. Her legs were crossed tightly, a subtle tension visible in her posture. She sipped her cocktail slowly, savoring the taste while her gaze pierced through the room, focusing intently on the man who unknowingly held her captive with his every move. As Y/n continued to sip her cocktail, her eyes couldn't help but wander to the way his dark hair was tied up in a casual half ponytail, perfectly complementing his grey button-up long sleeve shirt that subtly revealed his delicate torso. He moved with an effortless grace, the fabric of his shirt shifting slightly with each motion, hinting at the strength beneath. Paired with ripped, baggy blue jeans and classic Converse sneakers, his look was both relaxed and captivating, drawing Y/n's gaze like a magnet. She couldn't tear her eyes away, mesmerized by the combination of his highly look and style. Hyunjin chuckled as his eyes locked with Y/n's, but his gaze quickly shifted as a random girl tugged his arm forward. His smile glowed in the light, his hands sliding down to the girl's waist. A surge of jealousy coursed through Y/n. She stood up, determined to confront him, but froze as she saw him intimately touching and making out with the girl. Rage bubbled inside her, and she decided to retaliate. Spying a cute guy in the corner, she marched over and began a heated make-out session with him. Hyunjin's eyes darkened as he noticed. With a growl, he pushed the girl away, storming over to Y/n. He forcefully pulled her away from the guy, his grip firm as he dragged her outside to the back of the big house. The night air was cool, but the tension between them was palpable, sizzling with unresolved emotions and jealousy.

"Hey what the fuck Hyunjin? What's your problem?" Y/n scowled, "so your fucking other guys huh?" He questioned. "Like your one to talk." She rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, deadly with the conversation. "You know, I never realized a whore like you would go to someone after being bored off of my dick!" Hyunjin rages as Y/n just stood there completely advantage. "First of all, don't be putting your words into my fucking mouth hun. Maybe you should fucking reflect on your stupid actions and words before you come at me!" Y/n shouted back. "Don't even dare call me a whore when this is actually the first time I went towards another man besides you! The one that goes to one another women is you, Hyunjin. So don't sit here and call me something when all I've been doing is riding the same dick that other girls a riding!" Y/n screamed her head off as she points her fi her at the man. "I'm going home." Y/n rolled her eyes again, the weight of the argument still heavy on her heart. She turned away, determined to leave the night behind her. Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh, knowing deep down that she was right about everything. "Babygirl, hold on," he called after her, desperation creeping into his voice. "I'm not your babygirl tonight," she shot back, tears welling up as she made her way to her car. The sight of her hurt him more than he could admit. "Come on, baby, I'm sorry," he pleaded, his heart racing as he sprinted to catch up with her. He reached out, grabbing her wrist gently, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers. Y/n paused, her back still turned to him, emotions swirling inside her. The tension hung thick in the air, and for a moment, time stood still. "Please," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "Just talk to me."

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she finally turned to face him. "What do you want me to say, Hyunjin? You were all over that girl!" Her voice trembled, a mix of anger and hurt spilling out. "I know, I messed up," he admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "But it didn’t mean anything. You know that, right?" His eyes searched hers, hoping to find a glimmer of understanding. She shook her head, tears escaping down her cheeks. "It felt like it meant everything. You always do this, and I’m tired of it." Hyunjin stepped closer, his grip on her wrist softening. "I don’t want to lose you. I’ll prove it to you, just give me a chance." Y/n hesitated, the conflict within her raging. Could she trust him again? "You say that every time," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then let me show you," he urged, his gaze unwavering. "Let’s forget about tonight. Just us. No distractions." She searched his eyes, her heart aching for the connection they once had. Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other. "Okay," she finally said, her voice steadier. "But this is your last chance." Hyunjin smiled softly, relief flooding through him. "I won’t let you down, I promise."

Hyunjin leaned in, giving her a soft kiss as his hands planted on the side of her cheek. Y/n held dearly onto the side of his shirt as she kissed back with passion. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in that tender moment. The warmth of his lips against hers sent shivers down her spine, and she could feel his heartbeat racing in sync with her own. As their kiss deepened, Hyunjin's hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer. Y/n responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. Their breaths grew heavier, the intensity of their kiss igniting a fire between them. Hyunjin’s fingers traced the curve of her back, sending electric tingles through her skin. Y/n’s hands moved up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer as their kiss became more fervent. Breaking the kiss for a moment, Hyunjin's eyes bore into hers, filled with a mix of desire and affection. "I need you, Y/n," he whispered, his voice husky. Y/n's heart raced at his words, and she could feel the heat rising between them. "I'm yours, Hyunjin," she replied breathlessly, before capturing his lips once more in a searing kiss. They were lost in each other, the passion between them undeniable and all-consuming. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them and the love they shared.

Hyunjin’s breath was hot against Y/n’s ear as he whispered, "I need you, Y/n." His voice was thick with desire, sending a shiver down her spine. She could feel the intensity of his need mirrored in her own racing heartbeat. "I'm yours, Hyunjin," she replied breathlessly, before capturing his lips once more in a searing kiss. The world outside their embrace ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them entwined in a dance of passion and longing. Hyunjin’s hands roamed freely, exploring the curves of her body with a hunger that made her pulse quicken. His touch was both gentle and demanding, igniting a fire within her that she could no longer contain. Y/n’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening their kiss until it felt like they were sharing the same breath. As their bodies pressed together, the heat between them grew unbearable. Hyunjin’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses that made her gasp. His hands slid under her shirt, his touch sending electric tingles through her skin. "Y/n," he murmured against her collarbone, his voice a mix of urgency and tenderness. "I want you so much it hurts." Y/n’s response was a soft moan of agreement, her body arching into his touch. She could feel every inch of him, the hard planes of his chest, the strength in his arms, and it only fueled her desire. "Take me, Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. With a growl of need, Hyunjin lifted her, carrying her to the nearest flat surface. Their kisses grew more frantic, their movements more desperate as they gave in to the overwhelming desire that consumed them. In that moment, they were lost to everything but each other, their love a blazing inferno that threatened to consume them whole.

Y/n's pulse quickened as Hyunjin's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips as his touch sent shivers down her spine. Every caress, every kiss fueled the growing desire between them. With a hunger that matched her own, Hyunjin's hands roamed over her body, igniting a primal need within her. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of passion and longing that seemed to transcend time and space. As the room filled with the sound of their shared breaths and whispered words of longing, Y/n felt a wave of ecstasy wash over her. In that moment, nothing else existed except the intoxicating connection between them, a bond that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second. Their desires intertwined, a symphony of pleasure and yearning that reached a crescendo as they gave in to the irresistible pull drawing them closer. In each other's arms, they found a sanctuary, a place where their souls met in a fiery embrace. Y/n felt the heat radiating between them as Hyunjin pressed her against the wall, their bodies tangled in a frenzy of passion. His hands explored her curves, fingers tracing the lines of her body with a mix of urgency and reverence. "Tell me what you want," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "I want you, Hyunjin," she breathed back, her voice thick with desire. The need in her words ignited something primal in him, and he captured her lips in a fierce kiss, pouring all his longing into that single moment. As he deepened the kiss, Y/n could feel the world around them fading away, leaving only the intoxicating connection that bound them together. Every touch, every kiss was electric, and she could feel the tension building, a delicious ache that begged to be released. Hyunjin's hands moved lower, teasingly grazing her thighs, and she gasped, pulling him closer. "Please," she whispered, her heart racing with anticipation.

Hyunjin chuckled, slowly lifting up her skirt, "My baby is impatient." He licked his lips before rubbing softly on her wet cloth underneath. The teasing touch sent shivers down her spine, her body responding instantly to his skilled fingers. "You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his voice a seductive purr that made her heart race. His touch was both gentle and insistent, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She could feel the heat building, her body aching for more of his touch. As he continued his teasing, Hyunjin's eyes never left hers, the intensity in his gaze making her feel completely exposed and utterly desired. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and she found herself arching into his touch, silently begging for him to take her further. Hyunjin's fingers danced over her sensitive skin, exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that drove her wild. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear, "I love seeing you like this, so needy for me." Her breath hitched as he increased the pressure, his fingers moving with more urgency. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Hyunjin, please," she gasped, her voice trembling with desire. He smiled, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. "Patience, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck. "I want to savor every moment." His words only heightened her arousal, and she felt a deep, aching need for him to fulfill the promise of his touch. With a sudden, fluid motion, he removed the barrier between them, his fingers now sliding directly against her heated skin. The sensation was exquisite, and she moaned softly, her body trembling with pleasure. Hyunjin's movements were confident and precise, each touch bringing her closer to the edge. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration. "I could watch you all night." His words sent a thrill through her, and she felt herself teetering on the brink of ecstasy, completely at his mercy.

He slid his fingers beneath the fabric of her clothing, igniting a fire within her that had been smoldering for far too long. The moment his fingertip teased her, she gasped, the sound escaping her lips like a plea. "Hyun," she moaned softly, the tension between them reaching a fever pitch. With a devilish grin, Hyunjin expertly explored her body, his fingers dancing over her sensitive skin. Each movement was deliberate, designed to elicit the sweetest sounds from her. The world around them faded away, leaving only the rhythm of their breaths and the symphony of her gasps as he pushed her closer to the edge. Y/n was lost in a haze of pleasure, her mind a whirlwind of sensations that blurred the lines of reality. As his fingers moved in and out of her with increasing urgency, she clutched at his hair, needing something to hold onto as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. "F-Fuckkk, Hyun faster, please!" she begged, her voice a mixture of desperation and desire. Hyunjin's smirk widened, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her unravel beneath his touch. He quickened his pace, reveling in the way her body responded to him. "Oh oh oh!" she cried, the sound echoing in the room as her orgasm built to an unbearable crescendo. When she finally reached her peak, it was as if the world had exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors. Her head fell back against the wall, her legs trembling as he continued to work his fingers within her, prolonging her bliss until she cried out in sensitivity. The sight of her unraveling was a feast for Hyunjin, and he savored every moment. As she caught her breath, Hyunjin stood before her, the remnants of her pleasure glistening on his fingers. He brought them to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied grin. "You taste good, baby," he purred, his voice dripping with seduction. "Now let's get to my turn." Y/n's gaze dropped, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of his hardening cock, a promise of what was to come. She knew this was just the beginning of a night filled with exploration and ecstasy. With a boldness that surprised even herself, she sank to her knees, ready to take him in.

Her lips wrapped around his cock as she begans to Bob her head up and down. Meanwhile, Hyunjin had a fistful of her hair tightly wrapped into his hand, his groans and moans were all coming out of his mouth. Y/n's skilled tounge swirling and sucking the tip of his cock as she kisses his ball sack. Hyunjin groans again, the shivers that silent creep up his body while he watches in awe at the scene of his baby sucking him off. "Oh fuck, baby- yes, just like that- ugh." He repeats over and over and over. She moans on his cock, Hyunjin felt the vibrations sending waves down. Hyunjin couldn't help but ramming his cock into her mouth. His hand still filled with her hair as he began to buckled up his pace into her mouth. The gag from how deep his tip was reaching at the back of her throat was allowed to be heard with moans. "Oh baby- this mouth! this mouth of yours!" He continues to moan. Hyunjin was on cloud 9. He was having the best suck off from his main women and still he knew all those women can never compare the mouth of Y/n's. "Im gon' cum, oh fuck I'm gonna cum!" He groans as he shoved her face down onto his cock while shooting his hot liquid into her mouth. Y/n slowly drinks it as some left overs were still dripping down her chin. "Good girl." Hyunjin lifted up her chin as Y/n's mouth opened revealing she drunk all of the cum that was shot into her mouth. "Now let's give you your reward." He smiled.

Y/n leaned in front of the house wall as Hyunjin settled behind. Jerking his tip a bit before entering into her womb. He begans to slide his tip into her core as she begans to moan. Now fully entered in, he begans to buckled his hip. The fast past that was settling in was beginning to make Y/n moan louder. The louder it got the faster the pace was getting. Hyunjin held onto Y/n hair while fucking her from behind. "Hyu- ughhhh!" She groaned as she continues, "Oh fuck just like that omg!" She moans and moans, each one getting louder every second. "You like that? You like how deep I go?" Hyunjin asked with a devilish tone. Y/n moaned out the yes as a reply to his question. "Oh fuck I'm gonna cum!" Y/n screams, Hyunjin chuckles as he makes his ramming a faster pace then before. Y/n moaning loudly to the point where it's a bit over the music now, Hyunjin's intense groaning and moans from how good she would tight around him. Hyunjin could live with this for eternity but as he was in his thoughts, Y/n screamed as she released her orgasm. Hyunjin groaned from her tightness but soon came to his end after. Hyunjin painted her core with his hot semen. Y/n soon flopped down to the ground as she continues to catch her breath and soon following behind was Hyunjin himself. Holding on her as he kissed her neck softly leaving some remarks there. "That was amazing." Hyunjin sighed to himself as Y/n replies, "sure is. Let's not get jealous with one another huh?" She looked over cupping his face. "Agreed." He smiled giving her one last kiss before helping her put her clothes back on.

A/N : I'm so tired😭 this has been in my drafts for a month now, but I really hope you enjoy. I added some finished touches to the story. But here is my first smut book.

[chelseaknoo]

25 days with Eminem

Eminem x reader

Day 21

Marshall leaned casually against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched you dig through the closet for the Santa costume. The kids were out for the day, Jackie was with a sitter, and the house was blissfully quiet for once.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you asked, holding up the bright red suit with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged, the grin on his face widening. “Absolutely. It’s Christmas. You gotta keep the holiday spirit alive, right?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto your face. “Holiday spirit? That’s what you’re calling this?”

He pushed off the counter and sauntered over to you, taking the costume from your hands. “Oh, come on. You’re always saying I need to loosen up more. Consider this me taking your advice.”

You crossed your arms and gave him a teasing look. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘relax’ like you dressing up as Santa and me as—”

“A very naughty girl,” he finished, his voice dropping a notch as he leaned in closer, eyes glinting with mischief.

You burst out laughing, swatting at his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, pulling you closer by the waist.

Shaking your head, you pulled away and headed toward the bedroom. “Fine, but if we’re doing this, I’m going all in. Don’t half-ass it, Claus.”

Marshall chuckled, watching you disappear into the room before turning his attention to the costume. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

---

About fifteen minutes later, you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit—a red velvet dress that hugged your curves, complete with a fluffy white trim and matching stockings. You adjusted your hair in the mirror, smirking at your reflection.

Before you could admire your work any longer, a loud “Ho, ho, ho!” boomed from the living room. You stifled a laugh as you stepped out and found Marshall in full Santa gear, complete with a hat, fake beard, and a belly stuffed with pillows.

“Well, look at you,” you said, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “You’re really committing to the bit, huh?”

He turned to face you, his fake beard slightly crooked, and froze when he saw your outfit. His eyes raked over you slowly, and his grin turned into something else entirely.

“Damn,” he muttered, pulling off the beard and tossing it aside. “You’re gonna get me on the naughty list, looking like that.”

You smirked, walking up to him and running a hand down his chest—or rather, the stuffed pillow under the costume. “Well, Santa,” you purred, “maybe I’m here to redeem myself. Think I deserve a second chance?”

Marshall let out a low chuckle, his hands resting on your hips. “I don’t know. You’ve been pretty bad this year.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Then maybe you should teach me a lesson.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his grin turning wicked. “Oh, I plan to.”

He picked you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you over to the couch. The weight of his costume didn’t seem to hinder him at all, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle that quickly turned into a gasp as he tossed you onto the plush cushions.

Marshall dropped the costume's bag to the floor, revealing the gifts hidden beneath. He grabbed a small velvet pouch and held it up, jingling it playfully. “Let’s see what I’ve got for my naughty girl,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire as he approached you.

You sat up, excitement and anticipation thrumming through your veins. This playful banter had your heart racing, and you found yourself eagerly playing along. “What’s in the bag, Santa?”

He leaned over you, placing the pouch on the coffee table before sliding his hands up your thighs. “Oh, I think you’ve been naughty enough to find out.” His fingers traced the hem of your dress, inching it upward.

He kissed along your neck as his hand continued to explore, and you felt your body responding to his touch, heat pooling in your belly. You reached up to tug at the furry hat, and it came off with a flourish, sending a shower of white hair onto the floor.

“That’s better,” you murmured against his lips, capturing them in a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel the heat of his skin through the thick fabric of the costume, and the sensation was strangely thrilling.

Marshall’s hand found its way under the dress, skimming over your skin as he unclipped the bow holding up your stockings. They fell around your ankles, leaving you feeling exposed and desperate for more.

You broke the kiss to gasp for air, looking up at him with wide, hungry eyes. His own eyes were hooded with lust, his breathing ragged. He leaned in closer, whispering, “Ready for your present, little one?”

With trembling hands, you nodded, and he reached for the velvet pouch. He pulled out a set of fur-lined handcuffs and a small blindfold, laying them on the table with a soft thud.

“Now, now,” he chided gently, placing a finger over your mouth. “No peeking. It’s the rules of the game.” He secured the blindfold over your eyes, the sudden darkness heightening your other senses. The rustle of the fabric, the smell of the leather from the handcuffs—everything was magnified.

Marshall’s hands moved back to your wrists, gently wrapping the fur-lined cuffs around them. You felt the cool metal click into place, a delicious shiver running down your spine as you were restrained. “Merry Christmas, naughty girl,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

The anticipation was almost too much to bear as you felt him shift behind you. The sound of a zipper, the rustle of fabric—and then the sudden absence of weight as he removed his pillow belly. Your heart raced as you felt him climb over you, his body now pressing into yours.

He kissed you again, his hands moving to unbutton your dress. The fabric whispered as it parted, revealing your black lingerie. He groaned into your mouth, his own hands shaking slightly with excitement.

As your dress slid off, you could feel the cool air hit your heated skin. “Merry Christmas to me,” you breathed out, arching your back to help him.

Marshall chuckled, his mouth moving to your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone. “Patience, love. We’re just getting started.”

The room was filled with the sounds of the two of you exploring each other, the jolly music from the Christmas playlist in the background a stark contrast to the intimate scene unfolding. As he worked his way down your body, you had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from crying out.

You could feel his breath against your skin, the anticipation driving you wild. When his mouth finally reached the sensitive peak of your breast, you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips. His tongue danced around your nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently.

Marshall’s hands trailed down to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he pushed them apart. His teeth grazed your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he kissed his way down your stomach to the apex of your legs.

With deft fingers, he hooked your panties to the side, revealing your wetness to the cool air. He took a moment to appreciate the sight, his eyes darkening even further before he leaned in to taste you. The first touch of his tongue sent a jolt through your body, and you had to fight the urge to pull away from the sudden intensity.

---

You whimpered as he teased you, his mouth and tongue working in a rhythm that had your hips rising to meet him. The handcuffs kept you from reaching out to tangle your fingers in his hair, and the feeling of being restrained only added to the excitement.

He paused, looking up at you with a smug expression, before sliding a finger inside you. You gasped, the sudden fullness making your eyes roll back in your head. He curled it, pressing against that spot that never failed to make you squirm.

“Marshall,” you breathed, his name a plea on your lips. He took it as encouragement, adding a second finger and increasing the speed of his strokes. Your moans grew louder, muffled only slightly by the couch cushions.

Marshall sat back on his heels, admiring his handiwork. You were a picture of desire, bound and blind, your chest heaving with every breath. He took a moment to appreciate the view before reaching for the pouch once again.

From within, he pulled out a small, buzzing toy, the sight of which made you squirm even more. “What’s that for?” you asked, voice trembling.

He chuckled darkly. “Just a little something extra to keep you on your toes, or should I say, keep you on your back?”

Without further warning, he placed the toy at your entrance, the vibrations sending a shock through your body. You cried out, the sensation overwhelming as he turned it up and moved it in slow, deliberate circles.

The combination of his fingers inside you and the toy on your clit was too much. You felt yourself climbing, the tension building until you were on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into oblivion.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. And with that, he pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

As the last of the tremors subsided, you felt him shift again, this time positioning himself at your entrance. You were so wet, so ready for him, that he slid in easily, filling you completely.

The feeling was indescribable, the combination of the vibrations and his warmth sending you spiraling into another orgasm almost immediately. He began to move, slow and steady, his hips rocking into yours with a gentle force that had you seeing stars.

With every thrust, he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, the words lost in the symphony of your moans and gasps. The world outside the cocoon of the living room ceased to exist as the two of you became lost in the moment.

And as you rode the crest of another climax, you couldn’t help but feel that this was indeed the best Christmas present you’ve ever received. The love and passion between you were palpable, and in that moment, you knew that this was what the holiday season was truly about.

Marshall’s own release was close, his breathing harsh and ragged against your neck. You felt his grip tighten on your hips as he drove into you one last time, his body tensing before he let out a guttural groan.

The two of you remained there, tangled together on the couch, the only sounds in the room the steady beat of your hearts and the distant jingle of Christmas music. The warmth of his body and the weight of the handcuffs on your wrist

[nickel-of-the-djd]

Nickel felt the worry in her spark release, like a knot pulled taut that finally snapped. Tarn always knew exactly what to tell her when darkness pooled in her processor. When her thoughts took her back to that cycle all those vorns ago when they had discovered her originally. Reassurance from her leader, that all is and would be well, was enough to bring her back around, offering a small smile to the tankformer.

His hatred for those who destroyed her family was what she needed. Nickel wasn't used to peace time. All she had known for most of her life was war, being on her toes and ready for anything to happen. To be so calm and informal was alien to her. But she tried her best, striving for normalcy, if not for herself, but for her unit. It oddly comforted her to know that while they no longer were at war, there was still a fight to be fought. And that he hadn't forgotten his promise of destroying the Black Block Consortia. "So, we really are finally at peace huh? It's so... strange." She looked over Tarn's mask for a moment, before her gaze turned to the moving buildings outside of the window of the shuttle. They were likely almost to their destination, they had been talking for quite a while now, but Nickel found comfort in watching the objects outside go by. The thought that an attack wasn't going to always be around every corner, or an enemy in everyone she spoke to, was so foreign to her, and she struggled to welcome it but she would try. "When the time comes, I want to accompany you to the fight against the Black Block Consortia. I want to kill their leader." She spoke with ease, as if discussing what type of energon she wanted. Her face didn't reflect the graveness of her request either, simply blank of expression as she gazed through the window.

"I want them to fear me and remember my kin. And to know the fear they felt when they took them from me." Her expression never changed, and she didn't look away from the window, but her fists were balled up in her lap.

"I... I want a memorial for them. The ones that I lost." Her voice began to waver, a slight crack in her vocalizer.

"Even if it is a small one in my quarters. They deserve something that I can pray to."

She didn't like the thought of something happening to Tarn. Though her worry eased up on that front when she realized he was making jokes. In response, she bonked her little helm gently against his, a soft smile on her face.

"You better not leave me to deal with all these yahoos alone. I'll enter the allspark and drag your aft back here in a spark-beat. I mean it. Primus ain't gunna save ya from me Mister." She let out a soft laugh before letting out a sigh.

Once Tarn straightened up and went back to his previous question she too straightened her posture. She seemed to genuinely contemplate on why she felt the way she did, whenever someone showed her the level of care she showed others.

"I think... it's because it takes your focus away from what is important. Keeping your optics ahead and alert. I don't want you all to worry about me, because I'm not the big picture. I'm just a... *ahem* little... part of it. I've always felt that way, even back when we were at war. I wanna help, not hinder. And if you all are worried sick about me, who's keepin an eye out for the Autobots? Or... Or the Black Blocks?"

The mention of the last faction caused her voice to crack a little. She didn't bring them up often, but when she did, it was serious. More serious than the mini ever was for anything. Arguably more serious than her undying devotion to her unit and the Decepticon cause.

[razberried]

i keep forgetting that i have long hair now. i still have short hair in my head

[puppyeared]

i feel like. theres designing a character with certain themes and motifs in mind, and then theres making a gijinka for the water bottle on my nightstand

[edwinisms]

I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.

they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.

[exopelagic]

okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool

[picory]

i really need to rewatch uwe before the upcoming season finale and properly gather my thoughts on it but i really really like the show! its goofy and cartoony style paired with a serious story about these warriors' souls stuck in an eternal war with the evil, the slight psychological horror of being used as hosts for said souls and almost completely discarded and disregarded (though it doesn't say too much about this, this is more my overthinking), the steampunk elements, the character designs, the voice acting... all of it. despite that i still have some irks with it, like the pacing. this show would've definitely benefited from having more episodes. for such a story heavy show 10 episodes doesn't feel enough. it worked with primal, genndy tartakovsky's previous show, because there was little to no dialogue there. it did an excellent job at making the viewer understand what was happening with mere facial expressions. but uwe characters have a lot to say, a lot to work out between each other. and it's clear tartakovsky wants to tell more. they need more episodes to do that. i hope the show gets renewed for a second season. i need everything that i'm extremely confused about to be addressed and cleared up

[inga-don-studio]

Much as I generally don’t like having my idiosyncrasies pointed out by people who don’t really know me, I have one coworker at this new job who has been doing just that and uh … kinda learning some new things about myself.

[rmayuscula]

age gap autumn girl fuck you

[suguann]

Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 

"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”

The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.

"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.

Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.

He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.

"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”

You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.

Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.

His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”

Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.

Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.

Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 

“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”

Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.

“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”

Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.

Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"

You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 

"Ah, fuck—b-but–"

Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 

"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.

Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.

He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."

The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”

Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.

Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.

Masterlist