#definitely not stalling or anything
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grapejuiceplease · 1 year ago
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Matthew and Sarah in: "Rules Were Made to be Broken" OR "Baby, You Take My Size Away"
Slowly, Matthew gripped the needle in his left hand and pushed it through the sheets and into the mattress, then the right-hand needle a little higher, his feet dangling above the carpet a full foot and a half below. He wasn't quite so small that he could completely trust the thin metal rods to hold his weight without pulling out of the fabric, but by angling the needles down as he pushed them in, he seemed to be anchoring himself well enough. Besides, the view that awaited him was well worth the risk of falling.
As he crested the ridge that was the top of the mattress, he was greeted by the gentle warm breeze of Sarah's soft breathing. She was fast asleep, a few errant strands of copper hair fluttering in his direction with every breath she let out. He carefully reached back over the edge of the bed and pushed his climbing needles into the mattress all the way up to the pin heads. The last thing he wanted was for Sarah to prick herself on one while she slept.
In the heat of the summer, it seemed Sarah had thrown back the blankets so that Matt had a glorious view of the landscape that was her body. She was dressed in her favorite pair of pink panties and a loose-fitting white tank top that was dangerously close to concealing nothing at all. God, she was beautiful.
Matt barely resisted the urge to run up to the enormous waiting lips of his beloved and plant kiss after tiny kiss on them, but that wasn't a very good idea, he knew. Apart from the risk of waking her and receiving a stern talking to about how reckless he was being, there was the greater danger of her sleeping mind interpreting his presence at her lips as something a bit more.....edible.
At six inches tall, Matt wasn't worried about being eaten, exactly, but he thought Sarah might die of heartbreak if she awoke to find she'd bitten Matt in her sleep, and frankly, he didn't relish the thought of having to fight his way out of her mouth, not when she wasn't awake to let him win, anyway.
Slowly, turning his back on her beautiful looming face, he crept toward Sarah's hand. Each warm breath from behind felt like a gentle kiss that ran a shiver up his spine. Occasionally she'd move or turn slightly causing him to loose his balance completely and tumble over the sheets, but thankfully she never rolled over completely.
When he reached her hand, lying half closed upon the mattress, he knelt down and kissed her thumb as a sort of tribute; a toll of devotion paid for the privilege of exploring her. He reeled back nervously as she twitched in response, but the gesture was slight, even to him.
Taking this as a cue that it was safe to do so, he gingerly placed one foot on the back of Sarah's hand, then the other, and began to walk up her arm toward her bare shoulder, with the idea he might slip down into her cleavage and sleep there, surrounded by her - completely protected.
His progress was slow, halting every few steps to regain his balance on her shifting form. He was only about halfway up her arm when he noticed: Sarah was far, far too still. She still gave little twitches at each of his careful movements, but it felt gentler now, and almost....deliberate. Slowly, Matt turned around to confirm what he already knew, and sure enough, two gorgeous round emeralds, each bigger than his own head, were glittering at him through the semi-darkness.
By this point in their relationship, having Sarah's full attention wasn't the massive weight on Matthew's psyche that it once was. Meeting her gaze was no longer like being noticed by an earthquake, but it was still amazing to Matt how just by looking at him, Sarah could instantly make him feel an inch shorter than he really was, a difference that, while quite significant to Matt himself, being over fifteen percent of his height, would probably barely even register to Sarah, and somehow, just the thought of how inconsequential the effect she had on him would be to her was enough to rob him of another mental inch.
To Sarah, of course, that idea couldn't have been further from the truth. She was acutely aware of Matt's proportions, being quite as enamored with his physical presence as he was with hers. In fact, had Matt known just how large the idea of him was in Sarah's mind, he might've felt like he was the giant one, and she the tiny. Of course, on some level, Matt did understand this. They were, after all, in love with each other. It was a two way street, but you know what they say about forests and trees, and for Matt, Sarah was a very big tree, massive, in fact.
"Having fun?" asked Sarah, her dry tone evident even through her groggy whisper. He couldn't quite be sure how long she'd been awake watching his progress.
"Not as much as I was about to," replied Matt, eyeing Sarah's chest hopefully. "Why don't you just close those big beautiful eyes of yours and I'll be about my business."
Noticing where he was looking, Sarah raised an eyebrow at him and he shrank even more in his mind. How does she do that?? Does she even know she's doing it?
Something of his embarrassment must've shown, and she gave him an impish little smile that very clearly said, "Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing to you, and I love it!"
Clearly, she wasn't too upset to find him breaking a rule, but even so, when she spoke, her tone was serious. "We have a rule about the bed, don't we? It's dangerous for you when I'm sleeping. I could end up crushing you."
"Not where I'm headed. You're way too squishy there to do any squishing."
"I could still smother you."
"Sounds like a good way to go."
"I'm serious, Matt!" Sarah said, undercutting herself by laughing, and the force of it sent Matt tumbling from his perch on her arm to the bed sheet below.
"See? Look at you," she said, giggling. "Exactly," said Matt. "Not a scratch!" He sprang to his feet and gave a little bow like a gymnast on a dismount. "Oh really?" she pushed Matt over again and pinned him gently against the bed with a finger. "What now, tough guy?"
Using the softness of the mattress to his advantage, Matt pushed as hard as he could against Sarah's unmoving finger and deftly maneuvered to the side, quickly escaping and getting up in a fighting pose. "That all ya got?" he teased.
"Come here and find out."
This time, she didn't give him an out. Before he could react, she had a hand at his back and was pulling him straight into a full-frontal assault of lips and tongue. In a moment, she had his wrists pinned against the pillow with two of her fingers and was showering him with love.
It was skillful, Matt thought, as Sarah explored him voraciously from head to toe. She knew exactly how much pressure to exert; heavy enough to overwhelm him, make him feel exactly how small and helpless he was to her, to leave him with no doubt who was in control at that moment, but soft enough that he never felt used. He always felt her love, her care, her adoration. It was a delicate balance to maintain and the effect was impossibly addictive.
He surrendered to her completely, hardly noticing when one of his restraints disappeared southward so that Sarah could give herself some attention. He let himself melt into her soft embrace, and the last thing he felt before passing out from pleasure was the low rumble in his chest of her soft giggles and gasps, so close, so enormous, and he was barely a speck in the vastness of her love.
----
Life's been hectic and I haven't had much time for rendering. I don't have much experience writing, but I woke up one morning with this scenario playing out in my head (good way to wake up, btw, 10/10 would recommend). It was super fun to write out, but I don't know if it's any good. Lmk if you liked it, or lmk if it sucked and you never want to hear about Matt and Sarah ever again.
Either way, new pics are coming, I promise.
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waterfallofspace · 2 years ago
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One Is Not Better Than None
Soooo I was scrolling through my google docs and remembered this little AU that I started writing (with the help of @themiseryandcompany) a few months back when I first joined snzblr~
And well, the actual 6 part story where they meet isn't finished, and reading it back... the parts that ARE finished could use a lot of editing~ it was one of my first attempts at snzfics, but I did find this little drabble/side story from the same AU~
It's not good, definitely not up to my current standards, but I did a little editing to make it hopefully readable, aaaaand since I've been a bit slow with content, I'll throw it out there incase anyone wants it!
~For Context: In this AU B/akugo is a doctor, and S/hoto is his boyfriend/a barista~ Word Count: 1.3k of utter nonsense that I'm posting because why not~
All Characters Written As 18+ In This Story, (picture late 20's)
~~~~~~~
Katsuki’s days off are few and far between, so when he does get time to spend at home, he finds that he often has a shadow.
Shoto seems to require constant contact, as if he fears that should their bodies stop touching for even a second, Katsuki would be out the door again. It would be annoying beyond belief, if it was anyone else. But it’s not anyone else.
He smirks over the journal he’s reading as Shoto lets out a breath that borders on a whine. He’s been trying to beat that level for an hour, and it seems like he’s just had to restart once more. 
“It’s not funny,” Shoto starts, catching Katsuki’s eyes as he glares up from his perch on Katsuki’s lap. A half-hearted gaze at best. “I’ve been at this forever. I just wanna beat it but this one boss has a frankly offensive level of regen. I know the strategy but I keep messing up the timing.”
With another sigh of frustration, the glare is long forgotten, instead replaced by a look that leaves Katsuki fighting the urge to kiss him until all the breath is sucked out of their lungs.
“Why don’t you just take a break and come back to it later when you’re less frustrated?” Katsuki offers, running a hand through Shoto’s mismatched hair. “Isn’t that what you always tell me when a recipe I’m trying for the first time isn’t going the way I want it to?”
“Yeah, but…” 
“What, too proud to take your own advice, Icy-Hot?”
It’s a nickname that came into being the first time Katsuki stayed over. Shoto had been sick at the time, and it was one of the first nights of pure vulnerability they’d experienced. 
With a fever, his body gets incredibly hot, but at the same time, he’s always swearing it’s freezing, shivering to make his point. During the night Katsuki tried to get him to take some blankets off, lest he smother himself to death, and Shoto’s reply was “I’m an icy pop”.  (To this day he still blames the fever talk for that little nugget).
To which Katsuki responded with a lighthearted “Oh yeah? Then why is said ‘icy pop’ so hot he nearly burns to the touch? Icy pop, more like Icy-Hot” and it just stuck from there. He normally saves it for playful teasing, such as today, but occasionally it slips out with a touch of softness when Shoto falls asleep in his arms. 
“No, this is different. I’m not frustrated, I just wahh!-” He breaks off, and Katsuki glances at him to see his eyes glossing over, mouth hanging slightly open, right on the brink for a few seconds until-
“heH-! hH’KESHHiew!”
A beat passes, Shoto’s eyes still unfocused, Katsuki biting a blessing back on his tongue.
“Snff- Bless me.” And with that, Shoto’s back to the level, leaving Katsuki to stare at him with a mystified expression. 
After several minutes of silence, and Katsuki’s eyes never leaving his face, mouth still slightly ajar, Shoto finally breaks away from his level to glance up at his boyfriend. “Uhh… what’s wrong..?”
“Y-you… sneezed…”
Shoto lets out a small chuckle, letting his phone rest on the couch as he sits up to meet Katsuki’s gaze. “Yeah? And? I do that quite often, you should know that by now.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes, as Shoto continues with a smirk. “And even if I didn’t, it’s a perfectly normal bodily function. You’re a doctor, I’m worried for your patients if hearing someone sneeze shocks you this much.”
“But… you… it was…. only one?”
“I guess so, yeah.”
There’s another pause, then Katsuki begins again, his words coming out uncharacteristically timid. “It’s… it’s never just one…”
The dumbfounded nature of Katsuki’s voice is enough to make Shoto burst into laughter. The joyous sounds finally snap his boyfriend out of the trance that the single sneeze had put him in, as he lightly punches Shoto’s arm. 
Shoto pulls away, still shaking with the joyous tune dancing from his chest, rocking the couch with each burst. For a minute, Katsuki feels his heart start beating through his throat, mind running wild. His full laughter is so rare… I’d do anything to hear it for the rest of my life.
Finally coming to his senses, Katsuki fires back with, ���Hey, don’t laugh at me! I’ve never heard you sneeze just once before, it’s always at least two, more often in the hundreds”
This earns him a very weak punch, laughter still dancing through Shoto’s eyes. “I’m not that bad!” Sniffling lightly to test the waters, Shoto shrugs. “But yeah, just the one, I don’t feel any more. I’m sorry, I’ll make up for it next time I’m sure.”
Shoto reaches forward, touching their lips in an apology for the harm that his lack of a fit had apparently caused. Katsuki leans into the kiss, but his eyes still seem a bit far away.
~~~~~~~ 
The rest of the day, it felt as if Shoto was under constant surveillance. Every time he looked over at Katsuki, his boyfriend was watching him, and would quickly avert his eyes, pretending to be doing something else.
Finally enough is enough. Shoto stands from the chair he was lounging in, and walks over to Katsuki who’s currently trying, and failing, to pull his eyes away long enough to read an article on his phone.
Wordlessly, Shoto leans down and rubs his nose against the cat-infested couch. Usually his meds are enough to starve off any really desperate attacks, but living in an apartment with your allergens is enough to set anyone off.
Add to that Shoto’s already sensitive nose, and it’s a sure thing that you’ll get at least a couple small fits per day. However, right now he needs that fit immediately, and his meds seem to be working a bit too well, so it’s time for drastic measures.
Rubbing his nose at all was a sure fire way to form a tickle, but add to that rubbing it against an allergen, and the reaction was certain to be quick and merciless.
“What are you doi-” Katsuki starts, but is cut off by Shoto’s breath catching, as he holds up a finger, attempting to explain himself before the fit can start.
“You... w- were... hehh- ihh... st- staring... at m... ESH’shiew-! Ishh’yu-! kishh’oo-! tishh’iew-!” 
Still trying to catch up, Katsuki can only blink, muttering to himself, “I was staring…” 
“huh- ishh-tishh-kESH’iew! Tishh’oo! Heh- hH’kschh!” 
“Bless you-”
“hep’kschh-kshh-nggxt’shiew! hehh… hH’ngnt! G’nxxt!uhh Hh’ ihhh… hDT-” 
Shoto pauses for a second, watery eyes pointed at the ceiling, seemingly stuck in a hitchy agony, caught between the overwhelming urge to sneeze, and the denial taunting him. 
With a shaky exhale, and a snff, he tries to finish the sentence he began earlier, “Staring ahahh at-”
-which the sneezes pick as the perfect time to release themselves. “ihh’keschh’oo-! hH’ISH’hieww-! Staring at me. Oh, bless me. It was starting to scare me a little."
Katsuki flushes at the accusation, admitting to himself, and only himself, that there may be a touch of truth in it. He sheepishly hands some tissues to Shoto, who takes them with a wink and a chuckle, cleaning himself up as Katsuki averts his eyes.
Once finished, he drapes himself onto the couch, lips hungrily capturing Katsuki in a deep kiss, only stopping once he needs to take a desperate breath and duck another “hh’kssh-! Ihh… heH! hahh’keTSH’iew-!” into his shoulder.
“Bless you… Ya know, you shouldn’t have done that, you’re gonna be sneezing for hours now ya dumbass.” The words may sound harsh, but there’s no fire behind them. 
Shoto lets his head rest on Katsuki’s chest, looking up at him, eyes alight with mischief. “Well worth it in my book. As much as I enjoy you watching me, I was starting to worry you’d forgotten how to blink.”
This earns him another light punch, but the laughter that comes with it makes his statement even more true. 
Anything is worth getting to hear that laughter. The true kind, the kind he doesn’t let other people hear. I’d do anything to hear it for the rest of my life.
Slowly he lets his eyes close, drifting off to the sound of Katsuki’s heartbeat, their breathing falling in sync, exactly how it was meant to be.  
La fin.
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daisychainsandbowties · 1 year ago
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Is your never having a donut due to a lack of opportunity? Desire? Dietary restriction? Inexplicable fear of food with holes?
so on the wings of all this ‘wtf casper?’ i asked my mom and she said that when i was 5/6 we used to get the donuts with the sprinkles every week in the shopping but i refused to eat them because it meant i had to touch the texture of the icing. she tried gloves but she said “putting it mildly that was unsuccessful” so yeah 😐 i was apparently too autistic for donuts as a kid
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jeonginsleftcheek · 4 months ago
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The art of erotica
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pairing: felix x afab!reader x hyunjin
synopsis: hyunjin asks his friends to model for his paintings and things take a turn as they indulge in their fantasies.
genre: smut, fluff
word count: 6.6k
warnings: everyone is a horny desperate switch, oral (f and m), voyeurism, threesome, mxm action, fingering, a lil spit play, cockwarming, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), double penetration (one hole), cum eating, cum swapping, creampie
a/n: can't seem to get enough of hyunlix so enjoy🤭
~ divider by @anitalenia
~ Masterlist
"Fuck...! Lixie!" you jolt, your middle lifting towards Felix's lips as he flicks his tongue in a particular way that he knows gets your toes curling.
He groans into you, the taste of you and the sounds you make, how you sit on the couch spread out for him while he kneels with his head buried where he loves to be the most; he can't help his hand as it travels into his pants, grabbing his needy leaking cock.
You're so close, his nose pressing into your clit perfectly as you play with your nipples through your thin shirt and Felix pulls his cock out to bring himself release along with you.
"I'm gonna-" you're interrupted by your phone ringing, both of you jolt and groan as Felix moves away, licking at his lips.
"Who is it?" your best friend looks up at you, a little breathless, still stroking his length slowly, squeezing it a little.
"Hyune." you chuckle.
"Answer him." Felix smirks diving back in, pushing his tongue between your soaking folds into your warmth.
You groan and accept your other best friend's call.
"Hi, beautiful." you can just hear Hyunjin's smirk by the way he says it.
"Hey, prince- ah!" you accidentally moan as Felix pinches your clit teasingly.
"Hi, Felix!" Hyunjin yells loudly, making you laugh as you move your phone away from your ear.
Felix chuckles, detaching his lips from you as you put Hyunjin on speaker so Felix can talk to him too.
"You're between y/n's legs, I presume?" Hyunjin teases.
"My favorite place to be. Care to join?" Felix claps back as you close your legs and flick his forehead.
"That's besides the point. I'm calling cause I need a favor from my two very beautiful and very horny best friends." Hyunjin announces as Felix rubs his forehead, his brows pinched together.
"I'm not filming a porn movie and putting it on the internet!" you chime in, making Hyunjin laugh.
"I wasn't gonna ask that but now that you said it-"
"Stop stalling, Hyunjin." you interrupt him and he giggles.
"Alright, since the two of you are at it anyways, I wanted to ask if you would let me paint you in different sex poses? I wanna make it aesthetic, erotic, raw... you know? You two would be perfect for it!"
Even though you and Felix messed around sometimes, you've never actually went all the way so both of your faces become red as Hyunjin explains his vision.
You've kissed Hyunjin too, as has Felix but it never went further than that so the thought of being naked with Felix inside you, while Hyunjin paints the both of you made your gut stir, arousal gushing out of your already wet pussy.
The three of you had an interesting friendship, and you know not many people would understand it or support it but as long as you have each other, you didn't care.
"Hello? Earth to my pretty people?" Hyunjin laughs.
"I'm down." you nod and then look at Felix whose face was as red as a tomato now.
"M-me too. Yeah. Why not." he shrugs, trying to make it look like it didn't affect him at all.
"Great, that's settled! Come to my studio tomorrow at 6pm." Hyunjin sounds excited.
"Sure, see you!"
"And loves?" Hyunjin adds, his voice dropping a few octaves.
"Y-yeah?" Felix speaks up first.
"Don't worry about anything. I'll take good care of you." Hyunjin almost purrs and you feel your pussy clench at his words.
After you hang up, Felix and you look at each other and then burst into an awkward laugh.
"This'll definitely be interesting." he says, a contemplative look on his face.
"Mhm. Let's think about that tomorrow, though. We have some unfinished business here." you smirk, spreading your legs again as Felix looks at you darkly, licking his lips.
Excitement runs through your veins that night as you curl up in bed, anticipating tomorrow.
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Felix drives you to the familiar building and the two of you step into the elevator, letting it take you to the top where Hyunjin's studio sits.
Hyunjin lets you in, and as always when he paints, he is messy, his hair disheveled but somehow making him even prettier, his bottom lip is red as he probably bit into it with concentration, there's a streak of yellow paint on his left cheek, and more on his shirt and pants.
"You know the rules." he wiggles his eyebrows before twirling away like some fairy, making you and Felix laugh.
The rules were simple; no shoes because they're dirty (and probably because Hyunjin likes to take peeks at your feet, sometimes even rub them when the three of you cuddle) and no phones as he felt they were an unnecessary distraction in his sacred space.
You and Felix leave your shoes and phones by the door, before following Hyunjin, walking on the plastic that's covering the floor for protection, and Hyunjin looks at you, leaving his paintbrush aside before he skips to you, his long arms enveloping both of you in a hug.
"Oof." Felix huffs out air as he accidentally knocks into Hyunjin a little too hard, making Hyunjin snicker before he leans back, his hands splayed on the backs of your heads.
"My loves. Are you excited?" he asks as you swat at him which he dodges with a laugh, finally releasing you.
"Intrigued, I would say." you smirk, both of you looking at Felix.
"I'm - a little nervous." Felix admits, a blush coloring his cheeks.
"We shared a bath multiple times." Hyunjin narrows his eyes at Felix, a playful smile gracing his features.
"This is different!" Felix swallows and you chuckle, your hand on his upper arm in an attempt to comfort him.
"It's just us, I know you'll feel better as soon as we get into it." you say, knowing that Felix isn't as spontaneous as Hyunjin or you are and it takes a little convicing when he's on the spot, but ultimately he always caves in.
"You don't have to strip right away. Here, I prepared coffee and snacks for my models." Hyunjin beckons you to the table with a smirk.
"Hardly a model." you chuckle as Felix picks up a drink.
"Y/n, you're gorgeous and you're not allowed to talk badly about yourself in my studio... or like ever." Hyunjin nods, folding his arms on his chest.
"Damn, calm down, I was joking." you giggle, your face warming up.
"Oh my god, ew! What the fuck did I just drink?" Felix makes a disgusted face and the two of you laugh.
"That would be my coffee. Your hot chocolate is on the left, sugar boy." Hyunjin smirks.
"I swear-" Felix starts, his hand curling into a fist and you laugh.
"Anyways. How will this work?" you stop whatever banter they were about to have, because you know it can drag on, sometimes they don't know how to stop when they start joking around.
"So. The bed, right?" Hyunjin says, semingly a bit bashful himself.
You look towards the bed, one where the three of you spent countless nights watching some artsy european movies on Hyunjin's projector; Felix would fall asleep with his head on your chest and Hyunjin would end up putting his head on your lap, demanding of you dramatically that you need to caress his head and play with his hair or he'll die.
The three of you would end up falling asleep together, limbs all tangled and messy, and one of you would always be close to falling off the bed (that one would mostly be Hyunjin).
"Okay." you nod.
"I will instruct what poses you'll make and then paint them. Of course we will take breaks when it becomes too much. Or stop altogether if either of you feel uncomfortable." Hyunjin waves his arms around as he talks.
"Alright. Should we just start?" you shrug and Felix sputters a little.
"I'm not hard yet." he says quietly.
"That's no problem. I'm sure y/n can help you with that." Hyunjin smirks. "Or if you want, I can help you."
"T-that... y/n and I can just make out." Felix's deep voice is so quiet in the big space.
"Okay, if you need me I'll be here. I can turn around if you want." Hyunjin chuckles.
"N-no, you can... watch." Felix says and you smirk, taking his hand and leading him to the bed.
Hyunjin sits on his stool, his eyes darkened already, his tongue pressed into his cheek as you push Felix to sit on the bed, your body following his as you grab his face in your hand and press your lips on his.
His lips are sweet and familiar, albeit trembling a little in this moment so you press harder into them, his hands coming up to caress your waist.
Hyunjin watches with dark and curious eyes, his two beautiful best friends kissing in front of him.
Felix relaxes the more you kiss, his tongue darting out to lick at your lips, asking for permission to taste you which you happily grant him.
Hyunjin's heart speeds up as he observes you, his cock twitching in his pants.
He notices the way your hands tangle in Felix's hair and how you pull at the strands, he notices Felix's hands on your ass, squeezing and massaging the flesh as you get closer to each other, the wet sounds of your tongues dancing together bounces off the walls as spit dribbles down your chin.
He notices Felix's pants growing tighter, and he doesn't feel jealous of him, he feels exhilirated.
He wants to join.
Hyunjin stands up and makes his way towards the bed, which gets your attention as you detach from each other, a string of saliva connecting your lips.
Without any words, Hyunjin cups your chin and leans down to kiss you messy and sloppy, his tongue pushed in instantly to lap at you and you whimper, jolting a little as Felix grips your thighs.
Hyunjin leans away and turns to Felix, his hand big on Felix's head as he gathers his hair in it and yanks his head a little, making Felix whimper.
Hyunjin leans down and kisses him equally as messy and sloppy as he did to you, arousal gushing on your panties as you watch them making out.
"Fuck. I'm sorry." he shakes his head.
"It's okay, Hyune. You're always welcome to join." you lick your lips, your eyes traveling between his face and the obvious bulge in his sweatpants.
"I'll hold onto that invitation. But, right now, I need you two to strip. Okay?" he asks and both of you nod.
It's easy to be naked in front of each other as you have shared baths and one too many nightly escapades which ended in skinny-dipping, Felix always being a victim of yours and Hyunjin's jokes, where you would dive in and grab his ankles or try to scare him with stories of lake monsters.
Felix would nearly cry but you didn't want to be too cruel so you would hold him, as the three of you floated around naked in the cold water.
But, something about only you and Felix being naked while Hyunjin is dressed and observing every single move you make is new and exciting.
"So, what would be the first position?" you ask curiously as Hyunjin prepares his easel.
"What do you usually do?" he asks, not looking at you.
"We never... we never did that." Felix says, making Hyunjin look up.
"Really? I thought you for sure have. Don't you like - mess around?"
"Yeah, but we never went all the way." you nod and Hyunjin gasps.
"Oh my god, why didn't you tell me! Is this uncomfortable for you?"- he panics, his arms flailing, making you laugh at him because he's seconds from slipping on that plastic cover.
"Calm down, Hyun!" you say as you sit on the bed.
"I'm totally fine with it. Lixie?" both of you look at Felix.
"Yes. I'm okay to go." he nods.
"Alright, just prep yourselves then." Hyunjin says it like it's a command to obey and you can't help the way your pussy clenches at his words and the determined look in his warm eyes.
"H-help us?" Felix gets bold suddenly, batting his pretty eyelashes at Hyunjin and he lets out a delighted chuckle, only two long strides and Hyunjin is in front of you.
"Sweetheart, spread your legs for us." Hyunjin coos at you and you immediately obey.
The smirk on his face deepens as he brings his hand to Felix's lips.
"Spit on my fingers, angel." he taps his lips and Felix whimpers a little, gathering spit before letting it drip onto Hyunjin's long fingers.
You expected him to only finger you, but what you didn't expect is for Hyunjin to drop to his knees between Felix's legs and spit on his cock as he grabs him, making Felix squeal from the sudden action.
Hyunjin wastes no time, his wet fingers press into your clit and run down your folds, as his other hand starts slowly working Felix's length.
"Ah!" Felix moans, jolting into Hyunjin, you know it must feel quite different to have another guy jerk him off like that and you whine for more attention as Hyunjin stares up at Felix with a knowing smirk.
Hyunjin turns to look at you, eyes softening before he slowly pushes his fingers inside you, your warm pussy welcoming them and sucking them in.
His tongue darts out to catch a bead of pre-cum from Felix's tip and Felix gasps, his hands clutching at the covers under him as his thighs tremble.
Hyunjin doesn't stop smirking as his tongue swipes around Felix's tip before he takes him in, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head up and down slowly, his fingers matching the pace of his lips as he fucks them deep into you.
"H-Hyune." you whimper, the tips of your fingers touching Felix's as he falls apart too, his head thrown back, a string of curses leaving his lips as Hyunjin sucks on him harder.
You admire how he seemingly has no gag reflex as he keeps sucking him in, his nose pressed into Felix's pubes as he swallows his whole length, while fucking your pussy skilfully, scissoring you open to take Felix's cock.
"There." he suddenly pops off of Felix, pulling his fingers out of you and immediately sticking them into his mouth to taste your sweet juices.
"Mm." Hyunjin moans around his fingers.
"T-thank you?" you bite your lip teasingly and Hyunjin giggles.
"Anytime."
"How do you want us for the first position?" you ask, your pussy throbbing and clenching, needing more attention.
"Okay, so..." Hyunjin pushes Felix to lay down and then moves him a little, making you chuckle at how Felix looks up at him cutely and almost innocently as Hyunjin adjusts his body however he wants.
"I want your arm lifted and kind of falling of the bed. And the second on will be on y/n's hip when she straddles you." Hyunjin motions at you and you nod, your legs on either sides of Felix and he squirms a little as you grab his cock and run it on your wet folds.
Felix gasps as you moan and slowly lower down on his length, Hyunjin observing his cock pushing into you with his lips parted.
You wiggle a little to adjust, feeling your best friend's cock filling you up perfectly and Felix whimpers quietly, bucking up into you.
"Where do you want my hands?" you ask, sounding almost breathless as you clench around Felix involuntarily, making his eyes flutter.
"Hm. Actually, let's change it up. I want y/n arching off you and holding your hand. So you can put this one-" Hyunjin takes the hand that was falling off the bed- "here." he lays Felix's hand on your hip.
"Your other hand here." Hyunjin takes your hand and puts it on Felix's abs but a little bit to the side so the point where you connect can still be visible to him.
"Beautiful." Hyunjin breathes deeply. "I want you looking at each other." he adds, messing with Felix's hair and then yours, making some of it cascade on one side, but not covering your breasts.
"Arch your back a little, sweetheart." you do as he says, any movement making both you and Felix moan.
"Now, stay like that as long as you can." Hyunjin smirks, almost evilly, the bastard.
He moves from the bed to blast some music on his speakers, whistling and acting nonchalant but you can see his cock struggling against the fabric of his pants.
Your eyes find Felix's and he licks his lips as he looks at you.
"You okay, Lix?" you ask, squeezing his hand a little.
"P-perfect. Feel so good. You're so warm and tight." he whimpers and you can't help your hips moving at that, your pussy clenching.
"Hey, no actual fucking." Hyunjin chimes in, knocking down a few paintbrushes accidentally. "Yet." he adds with a devilish smirk.
"Bastard." you mutter under your breath with a chuckle, making Felix smile.
"I heard that!" Hyunjin sits at his easel, and you look up at him, sticking your tongue out at him as he rolls his eyes playfully.
Hyunjin starts sketching quickly as you look back down at Felix.
The two of you lock eyes and in the sudden silence devoid of your conversation and jokes, you're aware of everything.
You're aware of Felix buried inside your warmth, throbbing and full, his fingers slotted between yours, his other hand gripping your hip, his dark eyes fixated on you.
Felix's eyes travel down to where he's filling you up and he groans deeply.
"Fuck." his hips buck just a little and you feel your arousal gushing and coating his cock.
"Lix." you warn but it comes out as a moan.
"You two have no patience." Hyunjin scolds as he continues sketching.
"You try being in my place." Felix huffs.
"Maybe later." Hyunjin winks at you as you flip him off.
"Hand back on Lix." he points with his pen and you make noises of protest but listen nevertheless.
You look into Felix's eyes again and he looks at you so softly but still full of lust and you find yourself getting lost in his gaze.
After he's done sketching, Hyunjin starts mixing his paints and you wiggle a little, making Felix moan under you, his nails digging into your hip.
"My legs hurt." you whine with a pout.
"Let's take a break." Hyunjin states, and you can see that he's adjusting himself in his pants, as his other hand holds the paintbrush.
"You have a sketch though," you start, sliding off of Felix and making him whimper. ",can't you like finish painting without us having to be in this position for so long?" you ask, your eyes falling down to Felix's cock, wet with your arousal.
Your face warms up and you tear your eyes away to look at Hyunjin expectantly, as Felix sits up, feeling a bit dizzy as he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath in.
"I need you in the position just a bit longer. Just to get some shading done, then you can change positions." Hyunjin says, finally looking up at you.
His eyes rake all over your body and he licks his lips hungrily at the sight.
"What, you hate being on top of our Lixie that much?" he decides to tease to calm himself down.
"As much as I love cockwarming Lix, my legs are cramping." you state nonchalantly, making Felix cough behind you as he stands up.
"You okay there, angel?" Hyunjin asks.
"Perfect." Felix nods but you can see that his eyes are almost crossed from the need to be touched.
You laugh under your breath, drinking some water before sitting down and stretching your legs.
Hyunjin stands up abruptly, making his way to you as Felix sips on his chocolate.
You look up at him and before you can ask him what he's doing, Hyunjin kneels before you, his fingers wrapping around your ankle as he brings your foot on his thigh.
"W-what..." you start but he shushes you, his hands wrapping around your calf as he gently massages you, soothing out the tension in your muscles.
Your pussy keeps clenching around nothing as Hyunjin stares into your eyes darkly yet his touch is so sweet.
You smirk a little, sliding your foot on his flesh before gently resting it on the bulge in his pants.
Hyunjin sucks in a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as his hands squeeze you a little harder.
"Be careful, sweetheart." he warns you but you want to play, so you press harder into him, wiggling your toes against his tip, realizing quickly he isn't wearing any underwear.
Hyunjin looks up at you, narrowing his eyes with a smirk.
"Lix, come here for a sec." Felix makes his way to the two of you instantly.
"Entertain our sweetheart. Perhaps she needs a distraction." Hyunjin winks at Felix, and Felix returns the wink with a smirk of his own as he stands in front of you.
You look up at Felix and he puts his hand on the back of your head, gently caressing you as his other hand holds his cock, bringing it closer to your lips which fall open immediately, letting him gently push his tip inside your mouth.
It's not the first time you've done this, but you never tasted yourself on him or done this with Hyunjin in the room and it makes you moan around him, Felix's hips stuttering as he pushes in more.
Hyunjin whines quietly as he starts massaging your other leg and Felix holds your head in place, fucking into you slowly.
"See how good you can be for us, sweetheart." Hyunjin's voice is low and you struggle to look down at him as Felix slides his cock deeper inside you, your throat adjusting to take him.
Hyunjin's hands wander up towards your thigh, squeezing and massaging the flesh there, his fingertips dangerously close to your wet core.
By now you're dripping on the sheets, and Hyunjin subtly parts your legs just to take a look at your cunt and the sight of your glistening folds has him groaning.
Without a word he leans in and starts kissing up your thigh.
You jolt a little, whimpering around Felix's length as his eyes fall down to see Hyunjin kissing and nipping at your flesh.
The sight makes him twitch inside your hot mouth as Hyunjin comes closer and closer to your core.
He worships your inner thighs with his lips, tongue and teeth as Felix pushes his cock deep inside you, making you gag a little.
You know he's about to apologize so you start bobbing your head on his length just to prove to him that you don't mind, rather the opposite, you love it.
Felix's fingers grip at your hair as he lets you take control, wetting his cock with your spit as you close your eyes and get into it.
Just as you're beginning to lose yourself, Hyunjin suddenly buries his face in your cunt and inhales deeply, making you aware of him.
"You smell so sweet." Hyunjin almost growls. "Fuck the paintings." he mumbles against you and your legs tremble but be grips them, pulling them over his shoulders before his lips attach to your lower ones.
"Shit." Felix thrusts into you, the sight of Hyunjin's plump lips against your cunt as he kisses you and sucks on your clit, his tongue darting out to gather all your dripping juices drives him insane and he can feel the familiar build up inside his gut.
"I'm gonna cum." Felix whines as he continues fucking your face and you're a mess, drooling on his cock, your legs shaking from the way Hyunjin eats you out, like he's never tasted anything better in his entire life.
The slurping noises Hyunjin makes as he presses his lips and nose as hard as he can into you, his tongue fucking your clenching hole, bring Felix to the edge and he twitches inside you as you grip onto Hyunjin's hair making him groan into your pussy.
"Ah, y/n!" Felix moans loudly as he shoots his load down your throat and you swallow readily, not letting a drop go to waste as you milk him dry.
Felix pulls out of you, trying to come to his senses and catch a breath just as Hyunjin is about to lean away and throw some snarky remark but Felix is quick to grip his head and push him back into you, making him moan.
"Finish what you started, Hyunjin." Felix's voice is deep, his eyes sharp and electricity shoots through your body when he takes charge like that.
Hyunjin's eyes roll back in his head as he eats you out even more hungrily, palming his erection harshly through his pants, a wet spot appearing on them.
Felix smooths out Hyunjin's hair with a smirk.
"Good boy." Felix's deep voice rings out and Hyunjin groans deeply, bucking his hips into his hand, very obviously moaning into you and you whimper, you're so close to release.
Felix decides to help you feel even better as he sits down next to you and leans in to suck your nipple in his mouth, his fingers playing with the other one.
The combined stimulation proves to be too much and you cum hard, painting Hyunjin's face in your pleasure and he whines lapping you up and licking at his lips.
"Now I understand why you love being between y/n's legs so much." Hyunjin pants as he looks up at Felix, his hand shoved in his sweatpants.
"I'm right here, you know." you chuckle and he stands up.
"I know sweetheart. Ah, please help me." Hyunjin whines, pulling his cock out as it twitches miserably in his hand, pre-cum dribbling from the tip.
"Let me." Felix interjects, sensing that you need to come to your senses a little bit and let your throat rest.
"Be my guest." Hyunjin smirks as Felix sits right in front of Hyunjin's core.
You gasp quietly at the sight before you, Felix wrapping his lips around Hyunjin's dick and Hyunjin tangling his hand in Felix's hair making him take more as he guides him.
You get desperate all over again, your hand reaching between your legs to play with your puffy clit as you observe your best friends lost in pleasure; Hyunjin's head thrown back as he moves his hips purposefully, languidly, fucking Felix's mouth, his big hands gripping his hair and controlling him as Felix drools around him, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands digging into Hyunjin's thighs.
"Oh god." you whine as you push two fingers inside your pussy and start fucking yourself with the same speed Hyunjin is moving his hips against your friend's plump lips.
Hyunjin opens his eyes and looks at you with a smirk before he looks at Felix.
"Looks like you're the good boy now." he says lowly before snapping his hips into Felix harshly, making him gag as tears spill from his eyes and for a moment you get worried but you see that his cock is twitching against his thigh at the way Hyunjin is handling him, fucking harder into him, making the tip of his cock hit the back of Felix's throat.
You speed up with your fingers, your other hand coming up to play with your aroused nipples as Felix cries against Hyunjin, gripping his thighs and as his nails dig into his flesh and break skin, Hyunjin whines loudly and cums, painting Felix's throat with his cum.
"Don't swallow." Hyunjin warns and Felix sputters a little, some of the cum seeping out of his lips.
"Come here, beautiful." he beckons you as you stop what you were doing and come closer to Felix.
"Kiss her." Hyunjin commands and Felix grabs your face gently and you open your mouth to let Felix push Hyunjin's cum on your tongue.
The two of you make out, playing with his cum and Hyunjin joins in, grabbing the back of your heads, he leans in and kisses you first, tasting himself on your tongue then he does the same to Felix, wiping his tears as he kisses him.
"You've no idea how long I wanted you both." Hyunjin exhales, his eyes shiny.
"Kinda did. You are obvious, eye-fucking us whenever we're together." you smirk.
"You humped my ass while we were sleeping here once." Felix added with a flush on his cheeks and Hyunjin hits his arm as he got embarassed.
"Shut up, I was half asleep then." he mutters and the two of you chuckle.
You lean in and place a chaste kiss on his cheek.
"Are we gonna continue or what?" you smirk. "Or are you going back to painting? Was that just a ruse to get us naked and fuck us?"
"It wasn't! I genuinely wanted to paint you!" Hyunjin pouts.
"Okay no need to get defensive, prince." you wink.
"We can get back to painting some other time." Felix chimes in and you agree, leaning in to kiss Hyunjin to get him back in the mood.
It doesn't take long before he lays you down, with Felix on your left side and Hyunjin between your legs.
"I want to worship you, my beautiful sweetheart." Hyunjin grabs your foot and starts kissing your toes.
You whimper a little and Felix leans over you, pressing his lips into yours.
There are so many hands on you that you can't even think straight, your mind is cloudy, your pussy is soaking and you can't stop arching off the bed, your body begging for more.
Hyunjin worships your feet, kissing them and licking them, sucking on your toes, his lips pressing into your ankles gently; while Felix's face is buried in your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin and leaving purple bruises as he marks you, his hands slide all over your chest and stomach until he lets his hand settle over your pussy as he cups it.
"Ah!" you whine as Felix runs his fingers on your folds before stopping at your clit and pressing into it.
You moan quietly, your eyes closed in bliss as you play with Felix's hair, your other hand gripping the sheet.
Hyunjin kisses up your leg until his face is close to your cunt for the second time tonight.
"Need to taste you again." he mutters and you open your eyes to look at him as Felix retracts his hand and instead puts it on your breast, massaging it and playing with your sensitive nipple.
Hyunjin doesn't wait, he dives in, his tongue lapping at you again as you drip on him.
"Come, angel." he calls out to Felix, gently taking his hand in his and pulling him to kneel between your legs too.
You groan when they start making out, both of them battling for dominance but ultimately it's Hyunjin who lets Felix tilt his head with a fistful of his hair gripped.
When they part, a string of saliva connects them and they smirk at each other before leaning in closer to your core.
You almost yelp when both of their tongues start playing with your throbbing pussy, Hyunjin pushing his inside you and sliding over your folds, Felix flicking your clit with his and meeting Hyunjin in the middle where they move together against your cunt.
With your legs spread as they hold your thighs, your best friends continue to lap at you, their tongues meeting constantly as they make out, their spit and your slick making everything even more wet and naughty.
They both eat you out like you're the sweetest treat ever as Hyunjin keeps dipping his tongue into your hole, Felix concentrating on your sensitive clit, sometimes sliding down to lick at Hyunjin's tongue and your hole.
Your legs start trembling and you can't hold in anymore, you let go, gripping at the bed, your hips spasming as you squirt all over their faces.
"Fuck, she squirted for us." Hyunjin groans, lapping at you.
"What a good girl." Felix adds, looking up at you darkly as he kisses your inner thigh.
Hyunjin leans back and Felix grabs his face, kissing him hungrily and sucking on his tongue, making Hyunjin grind his cock against the mattress.
"I need you inside." you whimper when they lift up to look at you.
"Which one of us, sweetheart?" Hyunjin asks, as Felix gently caresses your thighs and waist.
"Both." you whine.
"Both?" Felix's eyes widen. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Please."
"Whatever our princess wants, she gets." Hyunjin smirks, fingertips teasing your clenching pussy.
"Lixie, get under me." you lift up and Felix lays down, his eyes becoming hazy instantly, his lips parting as he stares at you in awe.
You throw your leg over him as you hover, before grabbing his cock and sliding it inside you with ease.
Felix moans, arching off the bed as you adjust yourself.
You lean down, pressing your chest on his as Hyunjin shuffles behind you.
"Make some room for me." he almost whines, making Felix chuckle.
"Always." you say as Hyunjin presses himself behind you, the tip of his cock on your already stuffed pussy and you whimper.
"Are you sure you can take both of us?" Hyunjin teases, prodding at you with his tip.
"Y-yes. Don't make me wait anymore, please Jinnie." you moan as Felix caresses your head.
"As you wish, love." Hyunjin whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he pushes in.
It's tight and it stings but you love the feeling of your best friends stretching your little cunt at the same time.
"Fuck, so tight." Hyunjin groans, pushing in slowly as you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes.
"You're doing so good, darling." Felix praises you, his hands gentle on your soft skin.
"Mhm, taking us so well." Hyunjin moans, pushing in as much as he could.
"Ah!" you moan, your pussy stretched and dripping on their cocks.
"Angel." Hyunjin looks at Felix, their hands finding each other as their fingers entwine.
Hyunjin's other hand is on your hips, while Felix gently holds your head, caressing the back of your neck.
"Tell us when to move, love." Felix kisses your forehead.
"You can move." you say breathlessly, as your pussy clenches around them eagerly.
Both of them start dragging their cocks inside you, opening you up with each gentle and languid thrust, their lengths rubbing against each other in the tight, warm space.
"F-feel so good!" you exclaim, your eyes crossing from pleasure already.
"Yeah. S-so good." Felix whines, fucking up into you.
"Ah, my loves. I love you so much." Hyunjin groans, his lips dragging on your skin, face buried in your neck.
"Love you too." you whimper.
"It's just the three of us. Forever." Hyunjin grips Felix's hand and your hip harder, nails digging into your skin.
"Mm yes." Felix groans as the two of them speed up, their cocks filling you up constantly, the squelching sounds so loud in the big room.
You've never felt this full or this wet as they fuck into you desperately, pressing into your sweet spot and stretching your little pussy just for them.
"Lix." Hyunjin moans, releasing his hand and lifting up a little to angle his hips better as he holds yours.
Felix smirks faintly, wrapping his arms around you before the two of them start fucking your hard, using you like a little fuck toy as you grip at Felix and moan, becoming putty between them, letting them have complete control over you.
"Ah, ah, ah, L-Lixie! Jinnie!" you whimper and babble as your orgasm builds up.
"Squirt on our cocks, sweetheart. Please." Hyunjin ruts into you desperately, making both yours and Felix's eyes roll back as he matches his pace and fucks up into you as hard as he can.
You dig your nails into Felix's arms and let go, cumming and squirting around them as you clench making them both groan.
"I'm gonna cum, ah!" Hyunjin whines.
"Are you gonna be a good girl and take our cum?" Felix asks, his lips brushing yours.
"Y-yes, please." you moan, your vision cloudy as your body burns up.
All three of you are on fire and slippery from sweat, holding each other tight as Hyunjin and Felix reach climax, both of them cumming inside you, filling your pussy up to the brim, making you cum with them again.
"Shit." Felix whimpers as Hyunjin pulls out first.
Felix helps you as he lays you down and you whimper, your pussy throbbing from the stretch you just endured, all of your releases gushing out of you.
"Are you okay, beautiful?" Hyunjin hovers over you, his hands gentle on your face as Felix slowly stands up to retrieve a wet cloth and some water.
"Mm. Perfect." you smile blissfully and Hyunjin giggles, leaning down to kiss you gently, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth before leaving more sweet pecks against your mouth.
Felix kneels on the bed and cleans you up gently and Hyunjin sits up, quickly kissing Felix too.
"I'm gonna go run us a bath." he says.
"Are you in any pain?" Felix asks and you can't help swooning at the thought of having two sweet men who care about you.
"No, I'm okay." you say and he smiles.
"Good." he kisses you too and before long, the three of you are in the bath together.
As always, you relax at first before one of you starts getting playful which is usually Felix who splashes Hyunjin's face with water.
It's not that different this time as you sit between Felix's legs, leaning your back on his chest, your legs on Hyunjin's thigh as he caresses your feet.
It's silent and relaxing for some time as you melt into the warm water with your two lovers until Felix decides to joke around, splashing Hyunjin's face and making him whine dramatically before he returns the favor, you being the victim in between them.
The bathroom fills with sounds of laughter, stupid insults and splashes of water for some time before you finally manage to calm down.
The three of you sleep naked that night, you between your two favorite boys, feeling like you have the whole world in your hands when you have them.
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In the morning, you're tangled up with Felix, his face smushed into your chest as you hear the familiar clicks of Hyunjin's camera.
Your eyes slowly flutter open to see a still very naked Hyunjin holding his camera, a cheeky grin on his pretty face.
"Hyunjin. Were you taking pics of us?" you almost growl at him, making Felix stir.
Hyunjin giggles and then bursts into full on laughter as you sit up, grabbing a pillow and throwing at him.
Felix looks at you confusedly, his hair a royal mess and eyes barely open as Hyunjin dodges your attack only to twirl away laughing.
"You were too adorable not to!" he yelps.
"I swear I'm gonna kill you!" you yell out and Felix puts his arm around your waist, pulling you back down.
"We can kill him later, I wanna sleep more." he mumbles and you chuckle, your eyes still laced with sleep too.
"Hyun! Come join us!" you beckon and Hyunjin appears from the kitchen.
"Promise not to kill me." he pouts.
"Eh, you're safe." you say and he makes his way to the bed slowly and lays down. "For now." you add and he giggles, kissing your neck as he wraps his arm around the both of you.
You don't know where the three of you start or end, all tangled up together in the warmth of the sun and the soft sheets, but you know it would always be like that with them.
Just the three of you against the world.
Endlessly.
Forever.
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Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette
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iniquitousyearning · 3 months ago
Text
SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS
dec 4th. tom riddle — bondage, begrudgingly!sub tom.
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RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. | 2024
summary: revenge is sweet—but getting tom riddle to beg is so, so much fucking sweeter.
warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, reader gives tom a lust potion in retribution, PIV, desperate sex, tom so out of sorts he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, so much teasing it’s painful, dirty talk, light bondage, choking.
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All is fair in love and war.
This might not be love, but it isn't just war, either. It's something messier, something darker, something with teeth. Every time you and Tom Riddle play this game it seems to follow the same trajectory, almost like a dance—step, feint, clash, retreat—a push and pull, a ritualistic give and take until someone takes a little too much and the tension boils over to something like this. 
A locked door. A stolen breath. His body pressing yours into some surface and his hands on your throat, or in your hair, or at your waist with—
"You did something to me." Growled at your neck. 
Right now, expectedly, is no different.
"What could I possibly have done to you?" You drawl, bored blowing off your breath. "The great Tom Riddle himself."
You want to sound dismissive, condescending—just enough to light a match to his already fraying patience—but Tom is too keyed up to take the bait, and that alone thrills you. You can feel the heat radiating off him. Smell the clean, addictive scent of his hair, the musk of dark magic religiously woven into his skin. 
He smells intense, and it makes you dizzy.
Makes you reckless.
"You’re funny," he exhales, the force of it stirring your hair. He's ripping off his jacket now, rolling up his sleeves like he's ready to wrestle the devil himself. "This is your idea of revenge, isn't it?"
There's a shrug, something vindictive set in your shoulders just to get under his skin that much more—spurred on by the sheer state of him before you; those perfect curls a mess, onyx eyes burning with something primal. 
"This, meaning what, exactly?" You watch the corded tension in his neck tighten as he shoves his hair back, hands visibly unsteady. "You'll have to be more specific."
He lets out a stifled groan from somewhere deep in his chest at that—he's struggling, and he knows you know it, a delicious little factoid that has his patience stretched so thin it's almost see-through—
"You're enjoying this," he snarls, forcing himself over to a nearby loveseat and slumping down into it. His voice is half-hoarse, strangled by the effort it's taking him to keep this much distance between you. "You—fuck."
There we go. 
Unable to stall the grin off your lips any longer, you move forward with something predatory—something devious in each step perfectly placed just to spite him—a deliberate sway of the hips, the slight rise and fall of your chest—anything, really, just to break him that much faster. 
He's right. This is your revenge. 
"Oh, Tom," you creep around behind his chair, lips leaning toward his ear. "Are you feeling alright? You're looking hot."
You take note of the way his jaw pulses as he grinds his teeth. The way that one simple word from your mouth—spoken in the type of low, sultry tone that could make even a dead man hard—affects him.
"You're wicked," his head falls back to look up at you, lips glistening like he's salivating over the mere sound of your voice. Still, he's fighting it—still trying to deny you the satisfaction. "Did you know that?"
"You love it," you murmur, fingers slipping their way over his shoulders, down his chest. You lean closer, catching sight of the sharp bulge straining against his trousers. "Look how much you fucking love it."
Another stifled groan. 
"You don't want to do this, sweetheart," he hisses—and there's the nickname, the nickname you've told him you hate. His way of retaliation. "Not now." 
"And why not?" Your fingers dip lower, tracing over the definition of his abdomen. "Because you're not in control? Or because I am?"
He's fighting himself—you see the war play out on his face in the way his brows knit together—the way his lips part briefly only to swallow back whatever words were about to crawl out of them. 
He's never been very good at being at anyone's mercy, least of all yours. 
"You think you're in control," the words rasp against his throat, as if speaking them too loud might shift the balance. "You're delusional."
"Maybe," you whisper, lips brushing his cheek, the curve of a smirk curling into your voice. "Maybe I'm absolutely batshit." Your hand slips downward, slowly, over his stomach to his belt, fingers ghosting the buckle. "But we both know why you dragged me in here, Tom. Don't we?"
He scowls.
"You—" 
The moment you brush against his bulge with the barest touch, his hips jerk forward—words disintegrating, raw instinct betraying his restraint.
"God, look at you." You nearly choke on the heat between you. If this isn't the sexiest fucking thing you've ever seen. "Just admit it, Tommy. Admit you need me to fi—"
You don't get to finish. Something in him snaps—
"Fucking—" he's moving on auto-pilot, hands reaching up to seize you and yank you closer. "—fix this, then." 
In a blink, you're in his lap with his grip on your hips and he's growling—one hand slipping up to the back of your head to fist your hair and force your mouth to his before you get the chance to snap back—
And as soon as your lips collide it's a fight for dominance—teeth clashing as your tongues tangle, both of you biting and pulling at each other like animals. You're grinding against him and he's excruciatingly-hard beneath you and you can practically hear the intensity of it, both of you caught up in the sheer feral force of this—no rhyme or rhythm, no control—just hunger, desperate and unrelenting, like something unleashed that neither of you can put back in its cage.
After all but an eternity of this, you wrench back with force, breaking the kiss and shoving yourself upright. His head falls back against the chair, chest heaving, his lips slick and parted, pupils blown wide and glittering with fury—or lust. You’re sure it’s a bit of both.
He's trying to gain control, his hand still fisted in your hair, arms trapping you in place like he thinks he can still win this. 
But you see him now, raw and undone, and you know better.
"You want me to fix this," you murmur, skating your fingers over his chest lightly enough to make him twitch. "Then put your hands on the armrests."
He wants to fight that, you can tell—wants to yank you back into him, wants to wield that weapon of a tongue—but other things take precedence now, like you, here, on his lap—so close to giving him everything he needs.
You think, to him, the demand must sound less like an order and more like salvation. 
He all but slams his hands down onto the armrests.
You smirk. "Good boy."
Unsurprisingly, he scowls again, a dangerous flash in his eyes—but that doesn't stop his hips from jerking greedily when you grind down against him—fingers digging into the leather underneath them, twitching like they want to make you do it again. 
That doesn't escape your notice. 
"Mm. Just incase." Pulling out your wand, you cast a spell that binds his wrists to the chair. "I know how you are." 
His expression shifts instantly, lips curling back into something like a snarl as he yanks at the invisible binds. They don't budge—your work is seamless—his own spellwork mastered and turned against him.
"I'm going to fucking digest you," he spits, all venom and heat, eyes blazing as he pulls harder. "When I get out of this chair, you'll—oh, you'll beg for-"
You shut him up with your mouth, crushing your lips to his. It's all teeth and tongue, desperate and wild, as your nails rake down his chest and he arches into you—
"Who says I don't like it when you make me pay, baby?" You breathe, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw a groan from deep in his throat. "Maybe it's my favourite part."
For a moment he doesn't respond—he knows that's true. You love this game too much not to toe the line when possibilities arise. He's pulling uselessly at the binds again as you roll your hips against him, dragging him further into ruin.
"You are," he chokes out, head tilting back as your teeth scrape along his jaw, "an infuriating, wicked little witch."
You huff against his skin, against the pulse point at his throat and the sensitive area under his ear—he's squirming—making strangled, animal sounds that have you seeping through your panties. 
"You're only just noticing?" You’re drinking in his hypersensitivity for all it's worth. "You're losing your touch."
He scoffs, or tries to—it comes out closer to a moan stuck between shallow breaths. 
"Noticed it...the day I met you," he gasps, hips jerking up as you rock against him. "But, fuck—you've gotten a hell of a lot worse."
Perhaps he's right. Perhaps it's the company you keep—specifically, the one pinned beneath you. 
"You're just mad I'm beating you at your own game," you’re grinding down harder, fingers drifting to the buttons of your blouse. "You're a terrible loser."
"And you're—" he starts, but his words falter when you pull the last button free and shrug the fabric off your shoulders, exposing black lace and soft skin. "—an insufferable winner."
"I think the real problem," you toss your shirt to the floor, hands returning to slide down his chest again, undoing his buttons now. "Is that you secretly love losing to me." 
You'd think that would earn another snarl from him—or perhaps a sharp retort about how he'd never lose to anyone, or how he’d never enjoy being at your mercy—but he's clearly too far gone to keep up with even that as he watches you, all but trembling at your touch. 
"Stop—“ he twitches when your fingers glide over his exposed chest, trailing lower. "—talking."
"Make me," you make your way to his belt buckle, taking your time to undo it, sliding the leather free before moving to the zipper of his pants, dragging it down even slower. "Oh, wait. You can't."
He’s helpless to fight the growl you force out of him at that—a vicious sound that makes you clench. His fingers tighten around the armrests, yanking hard against the bonds holding him in place. Useless, you both know, but it doesn't stop him from trying, from straining against them like he might will them to break through sheer desperation alone. 
He exhales through his teeth. "Stop teasing." 
"Now where's the fun in that?" you dip your hand below the waistband of his boxers. He jerks beneath you as your fingers tease just enough to make his breath catch. "You should be grateful l'm taking pity on you—" your tone as soft as it is mocking, "—being oh so kind to help-"
Another groan, another almost snarl. "Stop. Teasing." 
Oh, how the tables turn. You know precisely how he's feeling—you've been here like this, with him, a million times before. It’s the sweetest torture. One you’re sure he doesn't want you to stop—not really. Not with a lust potion dripping from his pores. 
He fucking needs this.
"And what happensssss," you drag your words out as your fingers glide slow, featherlight strokes up and down his rock of an erection. "If I don't?"
His response is a wrecked string of profanity—some of it strangled, some of it guttural, and none of it in English. He's not even remotely coherent anymore, and you're not surprised. Eloquence had abandoned him long before you'd even stepped into the room.
"I will—" he hisses through clenched teeth as you tease your thumb over his leaking tip, "— fuck—I will fuck your ass so hard—“
Now that gets a moan from you—the filthiness of his words, at the way his voice drops so dark and low it should probably be a fucking felony. He's swearing, writhing, desperate, and you're absolutely dripping from it—from the way Tom Riddle has unraveled into this devastating, feral thing underneath you.
"Is that what you're thinking about right now?" Another murmur, lips brushing against his ear as you shift to tug his pants and boxers down. "Fucking my tight ass? Punishing me?"
"Without mercy," he spits, breath hitching as you free him—his cock springing out, thick and throbbing, twitching in time with his shallow gasps. "Fuck—"
You pull away to get a better look at him—and god, the sight almost makes you lose your mind. The man always so put together, always so self assured and smug and in control of every goddamn thing—reduced to this. 
"Such a vulgar mouth, for such a pretty face," leaning forward, you lick a slow, deliberate stripe up his neck. He tastes like sweat and sin. Just how you like him. "Tell me more."
"Fuck," his head tips back involuntarily, exposing his throat to you like it's instinct. He's twitching as you grind your slick heat along his shaft, soaking him, teasing him until his hips buck up against you. "Put me inside you—"
You're barely holding onto yourself, every roll of your hips against him leaving you dizzy and aching—but you drag it out, grinding down harder.
"That's an order, isn't it?" You breathe, catching his earlobe between your teeth. "You giving me orders now?"
"I'm giving you pleas," he rasps. "You fed me a potion that's made me so hard it physically aches, and now you're sitting here—fucking teasing me—"
"Retaliation," you reply with a smile. "You're the one who thought it was a good idea to feed me a truth serum before dinner at Malfoy's."
That night still lingers in both of your minds—things involuntarily said that can't ever be unsaid. Things that still make Draco avoid your eyes at every turn.
"A mistake," he grits out. In any other moment, you know he'd be smirking. "A mistake—I'll admit it, fuck-"
"You're not the type to make mistakes," it’s a true statement, one overridden by the feeling of his dick twitching as your hips still, going maddeningly idle. "You wanted the Malfoy’s to know I'm yours. And now, well, now I have to show you that you're mine."
There’s a moments pause at that. One that makes you realize just how loud your pulse is pounding in your ears. Tom looks at you, holding your eyes until—
"I am," he concedes, finally throwing in the towel with a gasp that's half desperation, half devotion. "Yours. So fucking take what's yours."
"Oh, baby," you purr, cupping his cheek in your palm. He leans into it without realizing, like he's starving for your touch. "I always do."
And with that, you rise up—slick soaked inner thighs leaving damp spots against his half pulled down trousers—humming with a smirk as you slide a hand over his chest, nails raking over his skin, holding him down against the chair—
"Be still," an order. "Or I'll take it a hell of a lot slower."
His whole body shudders at that—but does what he's told and keeps still—chest swelling with each shallow breath as he watches you—dark eyes flicking from your lips to your tits to your cunt—muscles straining and wrists firm against their binds. 
"Just—do it," he mutters through parted lips and clenched teeth—squeezing his eyes shut. "Please."
The world stops. Time freezing to nothing. You swear you'd forgotten how to breathe.
Please. Like it's a holy thing, a sacred word to be used only in worship. Like he's said something he's never uttered in his life. Please. Like a prayer, like a begging benediction. You'd never loved the sound of anything from his lips quite like you do that. 
You will hear it again. You long to make him say it until he forgets every other word he knows.
"How could I refuse that?" His eyes fly open as you reach down, gripping his aching length and gliding the head against your soaked slit. "Fuck, you're so big. So hard."
"Hard," he echoes as his hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction. "Because this is—torture."
"And whose fault is that, Tommy?" You taunt, just barely sinking down, letting the tip of him sit against what you know he wants. "Oh, that's right. Yours."
"Mine," he grunts before his patience finally snaps in half and he jerks his hips up—shoving his cockhead inside you with a strangled moan. "Fucking mine."
Oh, Merlin help you.
Your head falls back with a moan, eyes slipping shut as the sensation steals the breath from your lungs. He stretches you in the way only he can, and for a moment, you think you should punish him for disobeying you by taking back control—but you can't bring yourself to care about anything other than how fucking good it feels.
"Yours," you breathe, rolling your hips to take him just an inch deeper. "All yours."
"More," his voice cracks, the veins in his neck straining. "Take more. Please."
Theres the word again—please. It makes you weak, makes you greedy. Makes you break and give in on the sheer knowledge of how much it fucking pains him to say it. 
"Oh, gods"" you moan, shifting your hips to take him deeper still, inch by aching inch. "Fuck."
"Take it," he sneers, as if it's his turn to taunt you. Even like this, he's still the same bastard. "You can take more than that."
You curse lowly and sink your nails into his chest for it—because it's the kind of challenge you can't win, even like this you know you'll still lose. He knows it too. 
"I can," you hiss, sinking another inch deeper, and then another. "But can you?"
"Can I?" There’s a mocking lilt to his voice that knows. "Release my wrists, and we'll see."
Christ. That's a question you don't want to answer because you know anything other than yes would be a lie. It's tempting. You know as soon as you let him go he'd put those beautiful hands to use—he'd take back control and you'd immediately let him. Like a lamb to the slaughter. 
Even if this is supposed to be his punishment.  
"Be," you gasp, sinking down all the way and clenching tight as he kisses your cervix. "Quiet."
He lets out a sharp, strangled curse—a guttural string of something you think might either be Latin or Parseltongue—something rough and beautiful all at once—and you decide, right then, that it's undoubtedly the most sinfully delicious thing you've ever heard. 
"I love it when you swear," you manage to breathe out through moans, rolling your hips and savouring the stretch, the ache, the impossible fullness of him inside you. “And I love it even more that it's in languages I don't know—makes me wonder what you're saying."
"Things that'll get me slapped," he grunts, and the tone he uses is the one that promises trouble—trouble, if you let him go. "Or hexed, perhaps."
"Mm. I should hex you right now. I’m considering it," you’re gasping between moans, pleasure buzzing in your brain. "So hard."
"I think, right now," the words split between a groan as your nails leave faint red lines on his shoulders—as you clench around him again, dragging your slick walls up and down his shaft in rhythm. “If you tried to hex me, I’d let you. If it meant you’d keep going.”
You almost take him up on it. You love him like this far too much. So much it’s almost pathetic.
"Good boy." You force the words out, fighting through the sting on your cervix every time he bottoms out inside you, slamming against it. "So. Fucking. Good."
"Jesus Christ," he chokes, muscles taut as the veins in his neck strain. His hips jerk up to meet you at every bounce, greedy for more. "Don't stop."
"Oh, I won't," you dig your nails deeper into his skin for balance. The sting shoots through his body, his reaction delicious. "Not until l've made you swear to every god in the sky."
"Shouldn’t take long," he hisses through his teeth, shoulders cresting as your pace grows faster, more erratic. "I'm practically praying now."
"Good," you breathe, thighs burning as the heat coils tight and relentless inside you, every roll of your hips making you feel fuller, wetter, closer to falling apart. "I want to hear you pray my name."
"You're sadistic," he hisses. "Fuck."
"Pot, kettle," you taunt, biting lightly at the curve of his neck—not hard enough to bruise, but just enough to make him feel it.
The sound he makes—half moan, half growl—is filthy.
"Oh, you like that, don't you?" You murmur, dragging your lips toward his ear, breath molten. "You like pain. I know you do."
"I'd like to inflict some right about now," his voice breaks as you nip at his earlobe. "My hands on your throat. That smart fucking mouth—"
"Mmm," you hum, rolling your hips slower, deeper. "And what would you do with it?"
"Fill it," his voice is broken, head tipping back as his body begs for release. "Fuck. I'm so fucking close."
"You're filthy when you're desperate," you whisper, dragging your hand up to his throat, fingers wrapping around it, squeezing just enough to make his breath hitch. "I fucking love it."
His eyes flash—for a moment, you're not sure how he'll take it—your hand curling around his neck, fingers pressing against the pulse hammering beneath his skin. The unpredictability of him—always teetering between fury and something far more intense—makes you hesitate, even in this state. You wonder if he'll snarl, buck you off, or somehow counteract the spell to rid of the restraints entirely—
But all he does is swallow against it, hips jerking up, cock pressing bruisingly deep—dark eyes fixing on your lips, wild and glassy with want—
And then, he fucking grins. "Tighter."
"Freak," you moan far too loudly, heat pooling low in your belly as you oblige, tightening your grip. You bounce faster, adrenaline fuelling you, panting growing sharper with every wild bounce. "Cum for me."
"Like I have a choice," he rasps, voice shredded, his teeth gritted as his eyes squeeze shut. "Fuck—ffffff—"
The sound he makes when he finally breaks—guttural, filthy, your name torn from his lips—is fucking devastating. Devastating enough to drive you directly to your own orgasm, eyes rolling back and crying out words you aren’t even aware of as he shudders and jerks and tenses underneath you.
"Oh, fuck-yes," you breathe, riding him through it, clenching hard until the aftershocks start to fade out, as you slow your pace. “Tom—“
"God," he gasps, his head falling back in exhaustion, voice stumbling over the word. "God. Fuck."
The incoherence coming from his mouth is a treat—and through your fog, for only the most fleeting of moments, you wonder who exactly he's praying to when he says that.
His chest is rising and falling like he's just run miles, sweat-slick skin glowing in the low light. His head rolls forward, eyes still heavy-lidded, and when they meet yours, there's something feral still dangling in their depths. A lingering hunger that makes your breath hitch.
"That's what you wanted, wasn't it?" He finally speaks after he finds whatever oxygen is left in the room. "To ruin me?"
You're still seated on him, still full of him, and even now, you can feel him twitch inside you. Strong potion.
You exhale with a smirk, feeling your pulse slow. "You're still in one piece, aren't you?"
He laughs—dark, deep, and utterly sinful. It's the kind of laugh that promises you haven't won anything at all. His wrists flex against the bindings, and you swear the leather creaks.
"For now," his tone is almost gentle, but the fire in his eyes betrays him. "But if you think I'm going to let you walk away after this..." he grins. "You're more delusional than I thought."
Oh, Tom. If you only knew.
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honeydazai · 1 year ago
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୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work
feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma
content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public
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It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.
He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.
[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”
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CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.
He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.
“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”
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Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.
He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.
[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”
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FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.
He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.
“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”
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It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.
While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.
“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”
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The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.
When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.
“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”
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chiscaralight · 5 months ago
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don't fuck your enemy!
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synopsis: you just so happened to end up drunk with your enemy in the club bathroom. what would be more fuck than punching him in the face? fucking him!
includes: nsfw! scara x reader public sex ish. slight degradation. unprotected bathroom sex, p in v sex, mentions of oral sex, reader is under the influence but its all consensual. slight car sex, little bit of regret. this feels new to me, but I absolutely loved writing it! based off a request that I will link here
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“scaraaa…”
“quit whining.”
you’re wiggling your hips to him, as he struggles to get his belt off.
“you’re obnoxious. is this how you treat everyone you say you hate? slut.”
“and you’re the one feeding into it. just shut up and-“
the moan you let out is drowned in the music. it’s not loud enough to draw attention, but if anyone else is in the bathroom, they’d definitely hear it. it’s not your fault you’re in this position, after a couple of rounds of shots, this stupid, sexy man wouldn’t stop staring at you in what he says is ‘disgust’. hard to believe when he wasted no time in following through with your advances, pressing you against the stall wall and crashing his lips onto yours.
but yes, you’re a slut for letting him push his cock past your lips, keeping your eyes trained on him as he groaned about how good that felt when you weren’t spewing bullshit, or you nuzzling your head into his hand as he tangles his fingers in your well-done hair.
but no, he’s not a fucking whore for dragging you off the ground and for bunching your short dress up at your hips. nor is he one for pressing his lips against your skin, marking up and down your neck as his fingers glide over your clothed hole before pulling your panties into the side.
you won’t let it get to you now though, because the mixture of the alcohol making your mind spin, with the way the heat from his fingers is dancing around your body, tracing obscure shapes into the fat of your hips before sliding up to cup your breasts is enough to keep any other words out of your mouth, save for his name.
it’s almost insane how good he is because he’s rocking just enough to hit you with enough force, but not enough to shake the plastic frame of the makeshift wall. your hands are finding his wrists, trying to ground yourself to something, anything while he fucks your senses away in the bathroom of some upscale nightclub, trying to ground himself from how good you feel. this has to be wrong on so many levels, fucking you, after everything you’ve said, he’s said, you’ve done, he’s done?
that seems to be the least of your worries now because he can see your eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth as he slides a finger into the heat of your mouth. your reactions to his touch are quick, the way you jerk into his hand, or close your lips around his fingers like it was nothing. like it’s what you were made to do. his wet digits now slide back down towards your swollen clit, applying a certain pressure that has you crying out his name with that grating, gorgeous voice of yours. he doesn’t even have it in him to silence you, he’s twitching at the way it rolls off your tongue. fuck, if he knew you’d be this perfect, he would have cut the bullshit and bent you over long ago! but maybe it was more rewarding like this, fleeting memories of all the times he’s pumped his cock to the thought of your face moving through his mind, as your lewd expression brings him back to you.
he’s craning his head the slightest bit to catch your eye. when he does, you smile. and he could cum right then and there from the way your eyes crinkle at the corners through the flush of your cheeks. you mouth out a silent ‘kiss’, and he’s on you in an instant, tongue sliding against yours as the bitter taste of the alcohol finds its way toward him. but he doesn’t care about that. he’s more concerned about the way you’re starting to writhe and shake against him, becoming more and more unsettled with the lack of your own movement. so you do your best to stop him, pushing him off of you as you finally get to breathe. your words come out with a sweet giggle, finger pressing against his chest as your drunken state blurs your vision the slightest amount.
“wanna ride you, pretty boy.”
if anyone who didn’t know the two of you were to for some reason swing this door open now, they’d think the two of you were insatiable lovers who just couldn’t wait to make it home. to anyone that doesn’t know you, they’d probably have to wipe their eyes twice to pretend they weren’t seeing you bounce on scaramouche’s cock like this. he’s seated on the closed toilet lid, absolutely dazed as you ride him to bits. your nails are digging into his shoulders hard, giving you strong balance as you move with a determination even he can’t fathom. but you’ve been dreaming of this, finally getting him to shut up with that pussy or yours, it’s a shame you didn’t get to shove his face in it; but maybe it’s for the best. even in this mindset you know tomorrow is going to be full of headaches and a lot of unanswered questions, so why not enjoy the now? keep anything from getting too far. what exactly is too far you ask? you’re not sure either, because licking into each other's mouths while he fucks up into you would be seen as pretty far for some people.
and he breaks away first, lazy eyes searching yours as he mumbles about his coming orgasm. you’re smiling that stupid smile that makes his dick twitch again, and giving him a polite nod. his eyebrows furrow.
“inside? you sure?”
you’re rolling your eyes at the obscurity of it all. he can ‘discretely’ slide your expensive lace panties into his pocket, press you up against this gross wall, and even fuck you presumably drunk. but cumming inside you is weird.
“yes-yes! i’m sure. just-just hurry up,”
and he’s smacking his teeth at the tone of your voice, hand coming down strong on the swell of your ass while he starts to chase his orgasm. your breaths are shallow, deep with intent as you grind against him, brushing up close to him so you can release in tandem with him.
it works a little too well, because you’re spasming against him in a way that he’s never seen before. your orgasm, plus the feeling of his cum starting to paint your inside white hot with thick spurts is peeling away any reservations you had about this whole situation before, moans loud and cracking as you ride it out for the two of you. his head is hung back, adam’s apple bobbing only a slight bit as he comes to, the soft bite you give it making him snap his head back down before he pinches your thigh. you pout, but begin to get up nonetheless, because you’ve probably spent way too long in here already.
you're much more sober now, trying to ignore the daggers that scaramouche is glaring into your back as you adjust your outfit in the mirror.
"was the sex really that bad?"
the statement is supposed to sound snarky, but it comes out more desperate than anything. you clear your throat, focusing your attention on the paint on the floor instead, dreadfully anticipating how he will bite back this time. but he doesn't. instead, you're greeted with the plush of his lips against yours, hands finding a home on your hips omce again as you grip at his collar. you're moaning into his mouth once more, attempting to slide your tongue against his.
but he pulls away before you can, beelining for the exit door instead. your lips are in a hard pout. as you hear him mumble something about needing to go home. you also happen to catch the part where he more clearly states the exact parking space his car is in right now before letting the door swing shut.
you're alone with your thoughts now. your mind is much clearer, and you're visibly torn between doing the right thing, that is, going back to your friends and enjoying the party like you should've been, or going down and potentially making the same albeit lovely, very rewarding mistake twice. the way the 'fuck it' rolls off your tongue now is a secure answer to what you decide to do, quickly making your way towards where you hope your friends are before announcing that you'll be on your way.
it's been minutes, seven exactly, scaramouche is counting. he shouldn't be here, he should've left immediately he stuck the key in the ignition. but he's waiting rather impatiently, in hopes that you'd find your way down. he knows you're not stupid, he knows you would regret it, hell, he should be regretting it too. but that annoying little feeling in his heart won't let him pull out of the space just yet. and thank archons for that, because he can see the pattern of your dress outside his tinted window as you tap on the glass.
the silence once you get in is stupidly uncomfortable. the air is thick with tension, both of you avoiding each other's gazes as the impact of your previous actions weighs in the air. scaramouche takes the initiative to speak first.
"we should-"
"your windows are tinted. can you eat me out?"
he pinches the bridge of his nose.
"you're absolutely insufferable."
"l-less talking, please."
he'll roll his eyes, but dip his head back down between your legs all the same. you're sprawled out in his back seat, fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue assaults your folds. maybe the first kiss was a mistake, maybe him fucking you against the wall was a big mistake. but his fingers sliding into you now? curling just exactly where they should be? there's no mistake here.
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xbinksc · 5 months ago
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DATING NICHOLAS WOULD INCLUDE:
⭒❃.✮:▹Nicholas Alexander Chavez
WARNINGS: nsfw included
✧༺༻∞
• ok let’s say you met nick through cooper who’s been tryna get you two together for MONTHS
• the second y’all locked eyes it was love a first sight
•the dates omg THE DATES nick is lowkey a romantic under his mysterious and cold persona (but don’t tell anybody)
•beach dates,fancy dinner dates,at home movie dates you name it
•he would literally do anything for you
•obssesed with you
•no seriously, it’s a clinical obsession
•always wants to share his passions with you
•supports EVERYTHING you do and is your number one fan
•always there for you whether it be letting u vent to him or simply sitting at home totally quiet and comfortable in each others presence
•he thinks your the funniest person on the planet and can listen to your dad jokes 24/7
•he’s so thoughtful and always remembers the littlest things u may mention
•SPOILS U TO HELL
•his love language is definitely words of affirmation and physical touch
•always has to be caressing ur leg or holding u somewhere
•”I’m so proud of u bby” HES A SUCKER I TELL U☝🏽
•PET NAMES PET NAMES PET NAMES does he even remember your name at this point?
nsfw
•k this may be controversial but……..he’s definitely into doing it in public spaces
•the idea of possibly being caught or seen gets him ooomf😵‍💫
•club/resto bathroom stall✅ beach✅ trailer on set✅ in the car✅
•choking.
•”you’re taking it so good for me baby” HELPPP RELEASE THE SHACKLES THIS MAN HAS ON ME
•yk how as teens we thought walking around with hickeys was cool? yeaaaa he hasn’t outgrown that phase yet
•he loves to pick u up against a wall or onto the kitchen counter type shit
•in other words the bed is rarely used
•worships your body you’re literally the most beautiful magical being on this earth
•very dominant but lowkey wouldn’t mind if u took on that role sometimes
•honestly who needs toys when ur fkg Nicholas
•but y’all are suckers for a little ice play here and there
•loves to go down on u
•ohhhh he likes to be edged but don’t tell him I told u
•lemme end this before I get carried away…moral of the story is he’s the best fk u ever had the end.
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just1cefor4ll · 11 months ago
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SBG characters getting caught making out with their s/o
warnings: making out, swearing, bad grammar, maybe OOC characters?? idk
Part I Part II
Tyler Hernández
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Taylor would probably be the one to interrupt you two
You would be having a sleepover at his house and watching a movie when Tyler just pulls you into a kiss lmao
He would be pulling you into his lap his hands would either be on your waist or ass
Definitely calls you sweet nicknames during it in between kisses or just mumbles them while he kisses your neck
She comes when you really least expect it
I feel like you can’t really hear her footsteps that much cuz she just learned how to sneak around lol
Tyler would instantly pull away from you and not necessarily push you off of him but like makes it look like you were just cuddling
You just hide your flushed face in his chest while he asks Taylor what she wants and shi
Is pretty calm but annoyed that you got interrupted
Taylor Hernández
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You two would be making out somewhere in the phantom realm haha
LET ME EXPLAIN!!! It would probably be that you pulled Taylor away from the group and they would probably be just chilling, discussing their next plan so nothing you couldn’t ask about later
You would be inside the bus, somewhere in the back on the floor, you cupping Taylors right cheek while she cupped your left one as you kissed
You would slowly pull her into your lap and slip a hand under her shirt, rubbing circlers on her waist/lower stomach
The whole thing gets heated when you hear someone come into the bus but you quickly realize its Ashlyn
“Hey you two calm down, I can hear the whole thing and I really don’t need to!!”
“Okay ms. single as a fucking pringle.”
“Y/N!!”
You would laugh about the situation while Taylor just prays Ash doesn’t say anything to Tyler who would probably beat your sorry ass
Aiden Clark
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You would be skipping class probably, making out in some random bathroom stall
Aiden would be full on slipping his tongue into your mouth, leaving hickeys on your collarbone
All of it would be going well, you were having a good time since Aiden was some how skilled with these things when shit goes bad in like a second
A teacher would come into the bathroom, searching for you since you were literally SKIPPING CLASS
“Alright if anyone is in here come out, if not i’ll be going to the principal and he will deal with you.”
Aiden pulls away from you and smirks, grabbing you by the waist and pulls you out looking proud as fuck as if he won some kind of competition
The teacher leaves you with a warning, seemingly acting like he didn’t witness any of that shit
The teacher would just be like “I ain’t payed enough for this”
Makes sure you go to class tho
Aiden definitely teases you later cuz thats just Aiden
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muqingslover · 1 day ago
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Ok, so... this might be a bit of a +18 think piece, but... what do you think the lads men would have as their top 3 kinks? I started thinking about it after I read the Xavier somno one, lol. Maybe I'm crazy but I think Caleb would have blindfolds/rope play in his top 3 (on mc not on him, since he wants to see all of you but is very resultant to show all of himself back due to fear of rejection+ if mc is tied up she can't leave)
[ choosing only three was a lot harder than I thought whew. Also, I'm testing out different layouts rn so don't mind me (⁠^⁠~⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]
Xavier
Predator/Prey Play: This guy is the literal definition of wolf in sheep's clothing. What gets him going is the thrill of the hunt and the turntables (his specialty), which is why he will often let you think you're in control and have your fun teasing him only to then pounce when you least expect. If you run from him then you better pray he won't catch you or not.
Exhibitionism: This might be a hot take but walk with me. Xavier is a very jealous man so he won't ever allow anyone to actually see you, buuuut he is very into letting others know you belong to him. You gotta leave for a mission with someone else? Not to worry, all he needs is 10 minutes in the bathroom stall. The bread guy is back at it again? It can't be helped, he'll just have to fuck against the door while he's knocking to show you're busy. He'd love to see you struggling (and failing) to keep your voice down and looks like a smug cat when others notice the marks he left on you.
Cunnilingus: This man eats pussy like a goddamn champ. He absolutely adores having your thighs wrapped around his head, to the point he finds it comforting, and the feeling of his tongue stretching open your dripping pussy for his cock later. Your taste is something he could have every day, which he will if you let him, and he takes pride when you're left a writhing, whimpering mess that begs for him to fuck you.
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Zayne
Bondage: The joke about him tying MC up with surgical knots was definitely not a joke. In my opinion, rather than the power rush over the control he has over you, what really gets him off is the trust you put in his hands. Bondage is all about having faith in your partner to never truly hurt you and knowing you see him that way makes him feel beyond special. Given the chance he'd love to have you wrapped in dark blue, silky ribbons and the aftercare is top tier with this guy.
Lingerie: For some reason I feel like Zayne is REALLY into seeing you wearing lingerie. Ladies, feel free to tease him by telling him you're wearing one, but not letting him see until he's home much later. He'll spend the entire day imagining what type of lace you have under your clothes and he pretty please asks you to strip for him as a reward for waiting.
Phone Sex: Another one I just have a feeling it's his thing. I mean, he is a busy man and sometimes it can't be helped, people have needs yk. He'd like the feeling of knowing you think of him as much as he does of you when the other is not around. The photos you send and the sounds of your needy whines right next to his ear goes straight to his cock and he is mortified when the post-nut clarity hits him and he realizes what he did in his own office.
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Caleb
Overstimulation: I'm an overly sensitive Caleb truther. The overstimulation has his head spinning so good that he can barely form a coherent thought that isn't your name while he slams into your pussy for the nth time like a desperate man. He doesn't want to simply break you he wants to break together, to the point neither of you can think about anything else besides how good it feels.
Roleplaying: I've lost count of the amount of times we've seen him and MC roleplaying and this man will unironically take it to the bedroom. It starts as a joke where he's only doing it to make you laugh, but then he won't allow you to break character and will edge you until you say your "lines" correctly. Forceful and cold soldier? Check. Teasing and pervy Gege? of course. A loving and gentle husband? Sign him up. Strict teacher? No need to ask twice.
Brat Taming: Now defying Caleb is the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull and you better run because when he catches you you're done for. He needs you to need him as much as he needs you and if he has to break you for you to admit it then he will. The rush of being the one in charge and "taking care" of you in a way no one else will is enough to have his cock throbbing.
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Sylus
Breeding AND Biting: These two go hand in hand every time you have sex with him. He craves to have a family with you but, more than anything, he wants you to be as full of him as his heart is of you. He wants you to be so filled with his cum that he has to keep his cock inside otherwise it'll leak out of you. He absolutely enjoys the slippery mess your warm insides become when he rocks his hips into you, slowly but deep, pushing his cum even further into your womb and hoping you'll get pregnant.
Body Worship: I've said it once and I'll say it again: Sylus is a lover boy! ! ! Each kiss on your skin is an offering, a promise and a worship. He wants to know the parts of your body not even you do and give you the love you deserve. The praises he whispers against your body are similar to a prayer and he could spend years exploring every inch of you without ever getting tired. You're the very reason for his existence and any less is just unacceptable.
Size: This guy is not only big but he's also very large. He is a softie who likes to tease you about how small you are compared to him while he holds your hand and pretends he doesn't hear your complaints about him suffocating you after the draped his heavy body over yours. That feeling of satisfaction extends when he has to gently coo you and kiss your tears away while he's spreading your little hole open. He can't help the fangy grin on his lips when he feels his cock bulge on your tummy and he holds your hand over the spot so you feel how deep he is inside of you as well.
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Rafayel
Rough Sex: Another controversial take but I feel like he's a secret sadist just not the extreme type. Man can flip his demeanor from "harmless babyboy" to intimidating sea god in a split second who knows what else he's hiding under that purple wig. He'll keep an almost cold demeanor while he coaxes whimpers out of you in the best way and a wicked smirk spreads across his face at the sight of your tears, spurring him on until he's completely broken you.
Food Play: That's definitely one way to make sure he actually eats. Having you be his meal will make him hungry like never before and oh he absolutely will feast (this may or may not be a reference to this). He makes a point of not using his hands while licking along your skin, tasting the sweet chocolate before he left a purple mark on your thighs. Oh, this goes both ways so please pour wine on him and lick him clean ;)
Body Painting: I forgot if there's an actual English term for this but Rafayel would love to draw on your skin and watch you squirm each time the soft, wet brush went over your perked up nipples. He'd scold you when you move because you're making him smudge the lines and holds you in place with his free hand, warning you to stop or he'll take "extreme measures" to make you keep still. You are the only one he'd ever dare to call a masterpiece.
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pikavani · 2 months ago
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How Outono was found
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The marketplace was as lively as ever, packed with vendors shouting prices and people bustling from stall to stall. Among the crowd was Masha, a young maid making her usual rounds to gather supplies and ingredients for the castle.
And there she was again. Masha (22 years old) had noticed the little girl several times before, darting through the streets, always keeping her distance from strangers. She didn’t beg, didn’t steal—just played with the stray cats and dogs like she was one of them. She was always alone, sitting in the dirt and keeping to herself.
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It wasn’t uncommon to see orphans wandering the streets, especially after the war. But this girl stood out. Bright blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin—she didn’t look like she belonged there. People couldn’t help but notice her, and that made Masha uneasy.
Masha had watched her from a distance, wondering about her story. Where was she from? How old was she? Seven? Eight, maybe? But what really bothered Masha was how much attention the girl could draw just by existing. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of what might happen if the wrong person noticed her.
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Masha had heard the whispers in dark alleys. Men who offered food and shelter but delivered nightmares instead—slavery, prostitution, factories. The girl was practically a walking target.
No, Masha thought, she couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. She had to act. It was reckless, impulsive, but she didn’t care. “There you are!” Masha called out, pushing through the crowd toward the girl. Her voice was sharp enough to make heads turn. She grabbed the child’s arm—not hard, but firmly enough to keep her from slipping away.
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The girl froze, staring up at Masha with wide, startled eyes. She didn’t fight or run, just stood there, too shocked to react.
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“Come on,” Masha said, her voice softer now as she led the girl through the busy streets. She kept her head down, ignoring the curious glances from the crowd. To them, she was just a frustrated aunt dragging a mischievous child home.
As they made their way to the castle, Masha’s thoughts raced. What was she doing? She wasn’t anyone important, just a maid trying to keep her head above water. She had enough on her plate without adding a lost child to her problems. This could blow up in her face. But as she felt the girl’s small, cold hand in hers, she pushed the doubts aside. It was too late to turn back now.
When they arrived, Masha wasted no time. She took the girl’s dirty, torn dress and helped her into a warm bath. The child didn’t resist, but her wary eyes followed Masha’s every move. As the grime melted away, Masha got a better look at her.
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Her skin was smooth, untouched by scars or bruises. No signs of the abuse you’d expect from a child on the streets. But she was so thin—her ribs showed, and her small frame seemed almost fragile. Malnourished, but not beyond help.
And her dress… Masha frowned as she picked it up. The fabric was fine, high-quality, definitely not something a street orphan would wear. Someone had cared for this child once. So why was she out here alone?
As Masha gently scrubbed the girl’s hair, she tried to ask questions. “What’s your name? Where are you from? Do you have family?”
At first, the girl didn’t say a word. She shrank into the water, clearly overwhelmed. But as the bath’s warmth set in, she began to relax. When Masha asked again, the girl shook her head faintly, her expression confused.
“Nothing?” Masha pressed. “You don’t remember anything?”
Another small shake. Masha sighed, brushing back her frustration. “Alright, it doesn’t matter right now.”
As she rinsed the soap from the girl’s hair, Masha noticed the way her small hands played with the bubbles. The child giggled softly, and for the first time, Masha saw her smile. It was a tiny thing, fleeting, but it lit up her face.
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After the bath, Masha dressed her in one of her old tunics, the smallest size she could find. Still, it hung awkwardly on the girl’s petite frame, the sleeves drooping well past her hands. Masha couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, don’t you look like a little bird in borrowed feathers.”
The girl didn’t seem to mind. She hid her shy smile behind her blond hair, her cheeks tinged pink.
Later, Masha handed her some bread and cheese she’d bought at the market. The girl devoured it eagerly, taking bites so big Masha had to laugh. “Slow down,” she said, patting her head. “There’s plenty more.”
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As the girl ate, Masha felt some of her worries melt away. There was something about her—innocent, endearing. She rested a hand on the child’s head, thinking aloud. “You know, you’ve got the most beautiful eyes. Since you don’t remember your name, how about I call you Blue? Sound good?”
The girl paused, then gave a small nod.
And just like that, the little girl became part of Masha’s life.
She was still shy, always hiding behind Masha when strangers came near. But in the quiet moments, she was a joy—giggling to herself, chasing sunlight, and even whispering to the stray animals that seemed to follow her everywhere.
As time passed, "Blue" found her voice. She made up silly songs, told little stories, and even helped Masha with her chores. The work of a maid was tough, but with Blue around, it didn’t feel so hard. Her tiny hands and sweet voice brought a light to Masha’s world that she hadn’t realized she needed.
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gudfornuthin · 2 months ago
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Hate is a strong word
Dae ho x gn!reader
Summary: you’re not easily annoyed, but player 388 has been getting on your nerves. Is it hate, or something more intense?
A/N: I want to preface☝🏻I’m not good at writing anything too smutty. I’ve tried my best and hope you all enjoy but yeah this is as far as smut goes for me lmao. Based on this and this request. Feedback is appreciated :)
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You hate his guts. Player 388 (you don’t care enough to learn his name) has made it his mission to piss you off any chance he gets. The very first game. Tripping you over. Bumping into your back causing you to almost get killed. Apparently both times were accidents. Then it seemed to get more personal.
He acts surprised and mad that you pass the second game. Rolling his eyes and slow clapping. Hitting your shoulder with his whenever you walk by to vote or get food. You can’t even think about ‘mingle’ without wanting to punch someone. He made it incredibly clear that the group he was in was not picking you. They needed an extra person? No chance, as he does his best to block you from the other players.
You want to confront him about it all. In general, he seemed like a reasonable guy. To everyone else at least. Very polite, enthusiastic and willing to get to know people better. Except for you. There was a target on your back, and player 388 was aiming right for it. Two can play at that game.
It’s late, and you’re in the bathroom leaning over the sink and splashing some water on your face. Like most people, the games have been getting to you mentally, and the only time you have a chance to think is when everyone else is asleep.
Unfortunately, the door opens, forcing you out of your moment of peace. You turn and see the smiling face of the man who’s been causing you trouble.
“Fantastic,” you huff and mumble under your breath.
He spots you by the sinks, the smile on his face quickly dropping. “Oh. Didn’t realise there was anyone else in here.”
“Just needed some time by myself to think,” you respond, hoping he’ll leave the conversation at that.
He doesn’t, as he moves and enters one of the stalls, his voice now slightly muffled. “Why? You ready to give up?”
You ignore him, knowing he’s trying to get a rise out of you. It’s not worth it. Don’t give him what he wants.
Player 388 exits the stall, walking over to the sinks and washing his hands. “If I were you I’d give up. Someone like you will never make it to the end.”
You finally snap. “Alright,” you back up from the sinks, glaring at the back of his head. “Have I done something to piss you off?”
Player 388 turns around, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. He shrugs, looking shocked as if he didn’t expect the confrontation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit,” you respond. “Since the first game it’s like you’ve had a vendetta against me. For what?”
Player 388 doesn’t say anything, almost lost for words. He shifts uncomfortably, looking you up and down several times. You’re still unsure of his reasons, why he may have formed a dislike for you. But if he wants to get under your skin, then you’ll have to go deeper.
You move closer to where he stands. “Oh I get it now,” he looks up. “You’re threatened.”
“Am not,” he says, sounding like an angry child.
You shake your head, staring at him in the most patronising way you can. “You definitely are. Ex marine, acting all tough, wanting the respect he so desperately craves.”
You can tell your words are getting to him, as his nostrils flare and his brow furrows. You carry on talking.
“You see someone like me, doing just as if not better than you. Braver, stronger, more resilient. It kills you.”
You’ve moved closer, now toe to toe. You can practically feel his breath on your face.
“All that training, and deep down you’re still that terrified little bitch that had to join the marines because you weren’t good enough for anything else.”
Thump!
Player 388’s fist slams right into your jaw, knocking you sideways. You’re shocked, grabbing the side of your face and feeling a painful throbbing. You look up at player 388, a similar expression on his face.
“Oh shit-”
He doesn’t have time to say much else before you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist and pushed him to the ground. You both yell out as you crawl on top of him, throwing punch after punch, hoping one will hit. It feels messy and awkward, and you can already feel the bruises forming all over your body, but this was the breaking point.
You continue hitting player 388, your hips bucking slightly from him writhing underneath you. He lets out a small moan, loud enough for you to hear. You still, as the pair of you look at each other with shock. You move your hips harder this time, another moan coming from player 388.
“Does this turn you on?” You whisper, leaning down closer to his face. “Me beating the shit out of you, or me sitting on you like this?”
You move once more, player 388 now moving his hands to rest on your legs, halting your back and forth rocking. You can already feel something hard poking at your inner thigh, instead taking your hand and moving it to the space in between you. Pressing down, he whines, as you stroke over the fabric of his pants.
Your mouth is hovering over his, as you smirk slightly. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?”
Player 388 nods his head rapidly, as you lean down and kiss him, teeth clashing and lips devouring each other. The taste of blood falls on your tongue, not sure if it’s from the make out session or the aftermath of punching him until he bled. You can’t believe this is how things turned out. Not that you’re one to complain.
Your hand moves into his pants, gripping him strongly and continuing the stroking motion. Player 388 tries to grab your hips, but you swat him away with your other hand.
“Put your hands above your head,” you say in between kisses.
He does so, as your free hand follows them up and grabs both his wrists. You hold them in place as you pump his shaft, his none stop whining rumbling from his throat.
“Pl-please,” player 388 whimpers. “I n-need to-”
You pump him faster now, not letting him say anything else. “You wanna cum?”
Tears well up in his eyes, as your kisses trail down from his mouth to his neck. His legs are shaking and he tries desperately to move his hips higher, thrusting his member further into your hand. You’re both breathless, and you can tell player 388 is reaching his limit.
Just as he’s about to release into ecstasy, you quickly pull both your hands away, leaning back and staring down at him. He lets out a shocked gasp, raising his head as best as he can to look at you. He looks lost and you smile.
“This was fun,” you say, standing up and towering over his body. “I’m sure you can finish without me.”
You can’t help but laugh, as you slowly walk out of the bathroom, looking back briefly to see his disheveled and angry expression piercing into your figure. You still hate his guts, but he definitely hates yours more now.
- - -
Taglist:
@h3ll0k1ttyx @ivanttier @shewanfsrevenge @sugalump3d
(Sorry if it didn’t tag everyone)
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legallyfem · 23 days ago
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Hey, do you write for min su? Just him being a bit of a pervert
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pervert min-su x fem!reader
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﹒ ૮꒰◞ ◟ ꒱ა ⸝ new upload! ❜
   ˚     ➺     ❀
 ⸝⸝  ◦  tags: pervertness, suggestive staring/language, min-su acting clueless and dumb to get his way, reader is more clueless, game au, mentions of jerking off, i wouldn’t call this smut but some people may so idk, min-su overshares with the wrong people and they fuck him over, female reader intended (sorry fellas…), ooc? (most likely)
 ⸝⸝  ◦  a/n: how late am i to this…? shut up. also im sorry if this isn’t what you wanteddd people being perverted isn’t my favorite thing to write about but i had no other ideas and decided to do my request so i hope this is good for you!! i also just don’t like writing about me unless it’s like nam-gyu hehehehehhe also sorry if this isn’t short it is currently 1:33AM while i’m writing this sentence…
BLUE: MIN-SU
GREEN: NAM-GYU
PURPLE: THANOS (his english is in italics)
PINK: READER
masterlist • rules
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min-su is a perv, but not on purpose… his eyes just wander and happen to land on you…!
…right?
yes, min-su is naturally shy and a people pleaser, who is usually timid and gets under pressure extremely easy, but why wouldn’t he use that advantage of him being ‘clueless’ or shy all the time to ogle at the girl that’s also in the group with him?
ever since you, se-mi, min-su, nam-gyu, thanos, and gyeong-su have been hanging out, he’s found himself staring more and more at your lips, or at your chest while your talking. enjoying the way your lips move and fantasize on how they would feel against bist, and how your chest would feel if he’s holding them in his hands. wait, is he drooling? fuck.
it’s not his fault you just are the definition of eye candy.
past that, he would always want to attempt to protect you or become someone you could lean on, but he’s to shy to really do anything about it.
when you two are alone, he gets really scared, as if he wasn’t already before, while you talk to him you can’t help but he his eyes ‘innocently’ graze your figure. you didn’t think anything of it, he didn’t mean any harm!
after a game, or talking to you alone, he feels all this pent up emotion that he just goes to the bathroom and relieves some stress.
by imagining you sucking or jerking him off in the stall.
he can’t help it!
cutting to lights out, he finds himself admitting his feelings to nam-gyu and thanos out of peer pressure
(during this section if you didn’t read the cor coded text names before this started, please go back! it’ll make sense!)
“i—i mean she’s cute.. i—i don’t really know..”
”dude—“
thanos put a hand out and looked up at the both of them from where he was sitting “nam-su i got this, bro”
“dude, we’ve seen the way you look at her tits, it’s okay man.”
min-su attempted to save himself, but let out a shaky sigh, putting his head down as he spoke.
“…yeah well, i’ve liked her since she’s joined the team. i mean, she’s kind, funny, endearing, very… very beautiful… and… um… very beautiful…yeah…” he rambled to them, not on purpose, but everything just flowed perfectly.
“min-su, when you had to go to the bathroom as soon as we got back from grabbing our lunches, why’d you immediately have to go to the bathroom?” “oh! i know!”
“we all heard you by the way, bro”
min-sus heart sank as he listened to the boys, shrugging them off.
(to cut this short, nam-gyu and thanos told you and you eventually started avoiding his slightly more since you were creeped out)
ok scenario over!!!
while he was sitting next you, he accidentally gripped your waist,
as you felt the grip of his hand on your waist, you turned to him with a concerned and scared looked on your face.
“min-su?” “are you okay?”
he looked completely shaken up as he let go quickly, turning the other way from you.
“yes— i’m so— so so sorry.. i’m sorry.. that was an accident.”
“it’s okay, just give me a warning next time..!”
384 notes · View notes
prael · 5 months ago
Text
Delicacy
ILLIT Moka x male reader smut
Happy (kinda late) Moka Day!
Masterlist word count: 5,401 Kofi(donations/commissions)
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"Ladies and-a gen-entleman! Step right up! Ge-get yourself a-a mystical item today!" The old Murgo's voice is loud, his tone is jovial. His accent is hard to understand and his stuttering speech patterns would indicate a man who is not well-educated, though you've always expected he puts it all on for show.
His skin is scruffy, full of moles and unkempt facial hair that creeps down to his thin neck. The elderly man's uniform consists of a long, purple-sleeved coat—sleeves that fall every time he waves an arm at the next item he tries to flog.
"Y-you sir! Consider this, this is truly a-a magical mirror, for as long as you lo-look into it, it will make you b-beautiful." He smiles at the group before him, pearly white teeth contrasting with his murky skin colour. They are the only noteworthy things about him, other than his height, a whole foot smaller than the usual man.
The rough-looking labourer by your side mumbles, "What a crock of shit!"
While the bald man at the front calls "I'll take it!"
Murgo, as Murgo so often does, announces the catch, "Very wise pu-purchase. Now, just remember, the m-magic only works if you look a-at in complete darkness."
Murgo collects his due payment and the man at your side shakes his head as he turns away. "Idiots," he grumbles before he walks away.
"You there!" Murgo singles you out. "Do you fancy trying a-anything?" He asks you with a smile.
Murgo's entire stall is packed full of oddities, and none of them are ever what they seem. You may not believe in Murgo's little items, but it's always interesting to come and see what he has to sell today. It's nice to consider his fantastical excuses and embellishments.
"M-may I interest you in a fan-antasy?" He sing-songs. "You must ha-have a wish to make come true? Consider this ma-magical music box! One wish! M-Make it come true!" He boasts about another silly item, something that always leaves you rolling your eyes. Wishes cannot be bought.
"Tha-that's a look of uncertainty. Well, how about this." Murgo holds out a hand containing a single chocolate. A perfect, colourful item shaped like a square. "Gen-entleman, please m-may I present, a most magical item to y-your attention! A chocolate! Bu-but not any chocolate! They say this one tastes of m-mocha, and its ingestion a-allows you to live a fantasy."
You scrunch your brow.
"Ingested fantasies might seem an im-impossibility, but I have p-proven through a rigorous scientific process..."
You know he's lying, as always, but you're not about to interrupt though. You doubt the old man actually has much training in anything even related to science, and everything about him can only lead you to believe that he doesn't own many resources to test things on anyway.
"...so, sir, I urge you!" Murgo finishes his meaningless rambling by saying, "Try and taste your fondest dream. Try the ma-magical wonder and live a dream so real, so plausible that y-you'll forget who you are!"
Live a dream so real... He's definitely lying, but you are curious as to the taste of his chocolate.
Your eyes switch from Murgo's insistent, excited stare to his chocolate, and back to Murgo's knowing smile. "Just this once," you tell him.
-
You sit at your kitchen table, staring at the little rectangular block that rests on the wood.
"A fantasy, huh?" you contemplate. You lean in close and give it a sniff; it certainly smells like chocolate, with a hint of mocha.
Shrugging, you hold up the chocolate and drop it into your mouth. Immediately, it melts away and you're overpowered by the delicious flavour. It's milk chocolate, but you find hints of cocoa and coffee mixed between your lips.
You chew a few times and then swallow. At that moment, Murgo's words ring around your mind. 'Live a dream so real,' they repeat.
You sit and you wait. Staring expectantly at the table, you blink blankly at the slab where the chocolate once rested. You tap your fingers. You scratch the back of your neck. And still, nothing.
"Wow." You shake your head, chastising yourself for thinking so optimistically, and push out the chair.
As you stand, your head spins. The world about you warps into another form, a dark space resembling nothing you have ever seen.
The ground crunches beneath your feet. Gravel, perhaps? Black grazes at the surface, but you can't quite make out any details. As if a curtain has fallen to obscure your vision.
You spin around and wave your hands to find a purchase with something.
And then you feel it. Feel... her?
Small, smooth hands in your own. They let go before too long, and then those hands brush up your forearms.
A shadowed girl—clearly a girl by her soft curves—gently touches your cheek, and you grab her hand again. A soft gasp escapes her, and then she giggles. "Do you know how hard it's been, to be stuck inside a piece of chocolate? Of course, you don't. Why would you?"
This... isn't real. Could you be dreaming? Could you be high, or drunk, or passed out? Perhaps poisoned? You bring your fingers to your face to ensure you're not gushing blood or anything odd. Nope, normal. Completely and utterly normal, so... what the hell?
She whispers as her fingers move along the waistband of your pants, "Did you like the taste of the chocolate? Of... Moka?" She laughs. "My name is Moka, do you understand? Mocha and Moka!"
She has the cutest laugh. Soft, genuine, and one that leaves you smiling. Smiling? You ask yourself what you're doing and how you possibly ended up with some mysterious woman pawing your crotch. Regardless, you answer.
"Yeah," you say, her laugh encouraging you to express honesty. "Definitely not a bad product at all."
"Of course not!" Moka cheers. You catch a glimpse of a smile in the shadows that surround her. "After all, I was made with all the finest ingredients to give a taste that absolutely anyone can enjoy! And you're no exception, are you?" Moka's weight presses against you, and she leans close to your ear to murmur, "This little bump in your pants proves that."
You let out a sharp breath, but no denial. Moka may be shrouded in darkness, but you don't have trouble appreciating her presence. You can feel the warmth from her body, her rounded breasts that are all too tempting to touch.
"I'm so confused..." you whisper.
"Good." With the utterance of one word, you see the brightness of a smile. How wonderful and expressive her face is. The darkness clears and the mystery goes with it. The girl in front of you can only be described as utterly breathtaking. She's wearing this smile that turns up a little more on one side of her mouth than the other, and you're absolutely enchanted by its beauty. There's this beauty mark on her nose, such a cute mole. And then her eyes... you could very happily lose yourself within them.
"So incredibly confused," you repeat, and watch with fascination as a lock of her dark hair slips past a black strip and over her flushed cheek.
Moka kisses you. A gentle, testing peck, but there's no time for timid, because she pounces, and suddenly you're drowning under her affection. Kissing her like this is all you can think about, and the way she tangles her small tongue around your own is wildly erotic, both innocent and sinful at the same time.
You are too complacent, but then Moka brings her body flush against yours. You don't know where she came from, you have no idea why she's here and what's going on, but your body is certainly not questioning that right now. Her lithe form under your touch is as smooth as the chocolate she came from.
"Take me," she all but purrs, "It's what I'm here for."
"But you're..."
"Not real? A fantasy? Exactly. That's all the reason you need to let go," she whispers and there is a clarity that brings her words like truth.
Real or not, you can't deny it. You want her, this exotic enigma. You tug her close, fingers tracing a curve, your lips following a line. Her body, her skin, you adore her. Every facet, every inch, you crave her. You take hold of Moka and lift her, she lets out the gentlest of squeaks but instantly wraps her legs around you, and just the sound and feeling of her draws a shudder out of you.
"I spent months in Murgo's storage, just waiting for someone like you. Every single day growing more and more frustrated as I waited. You can't imagine being that pent up, can you?"
She's taking off your shirt. Impatiently running her hands down your torso, like she can't get enough. You stumble until you plant her against the wall, holding her firm and kissing her with all the frustration she feels, biting and sucking and leaving her breathless.
Moka wraps her arms around your neck, curling her heels, pulling you close.
"I can't imagine it, but you don't have to wait for another second though." You squeeze at her taut thighs, making her whimper with delight.
"Taste me," she whispers and you take your lips to her neck. It's not exactly what she has in mind, but she knows it's inevitable. All roads lead between her thighs.
So you fall to your knees before her. Hands up her thighs, driving up the frills of her skirt. She's a delicacy, soft and pink, beautiful, just waiting to be savoured. And the moment your lips touch the inside of her thigh, she gasps, one palm smacking the wall behind her. The tension, the excitement, the breathless little whimpers that escape her, every little thing, has you completely engrossed.
The whole time you press a barrage of kisses against her thighs, moving closer to her core with each passing second, but the light, teasing kisses draw a litany of frustration out of her.
"P-please..." Moka whimpers.
The breath from her plea leaves her in a shudder. She huffs, already trembling. You test how wet she is with your fingers, feeling her damp warmth, her sticky arousal coating your digits. You're unable to resist running your fingertips up the folds of her pussy, using the natural slickness to help move, dancing around her clit and drawing cries from the breathless girl. Her pleasure is plain to see, the rising blush reaching her chest and the deep breaths escaping her.
You slide a single finger inside her, then quickly two, slowly finger fucking her pretty pink, twisting around and feeling her wrap around you.
"You like it?" you murmur and it's not like you could call anything happening now an act of romance, but you turn your head and kiss her thigh. Such a tender moment is shared despite the sordid acts.
Moka huffs, her fingers clinging to your shoulder. "I need it." She sputters, moaning and thrusting down to meet your slow motions. "Oh... It's so good..."
"It's about to get even better," you say.
You lap your tongue along the seeping moisture of her beautiful cunt, and you lick over her slick folds and lap up everything she has to offer. With deep, intense licks, you give her pussy the attention she's been begging for.
"Ahh! Oh, yes!" she shrieks, falling back against the wall and panting with pleasure.
The sweetness of her nectar assaults you, and your tongue finds the little spot that has her moaning each time you lick near it. Faster and faster you circle her clit, watching as her knees quiver and twitch. Closer and closer, your tongue working her into a frenzy.
"More... I-I... yes, don't stop!" she cries, pulling your face against her. She wants more, she won't wait, and she twists and tangles her fingers into your hair, pushing and grinding her dripping sex against you. "Can you imagine it? I was made for pleasure. To give and receive, only to be forced to hide away, all alone? To suffer every day, tortured by my need?"
Moka whimpers and struggles to keep her breath even. You must want to do something about that, don't you?
You grab her thighs, lifting her off the ground and shifting your hands under her, grabbing her soft, plump ass cheeks. She cries at the movement, but then her legs are wrapped around your shoulders, clutching you to her desperately. You eat her little pussy out furiously, ravaging her drenched folds as she cries out, screams filling the room as you pick up the pace. Your tongue dances around her clit, your fingers sinking deeply into the soft flesh of her cute little ass.
"Oh god... I can't stop myself," her desperate cries fill the room.
You cannot deny this girl, even if you wanted to, so you devour her sweet cunt, and watch as her eyes close, the pleasure becoming too much as her body explodes with euphoric release. She screams, desperately riding your face, her entire body quivering and twitching as she cums. The juices drip down your chin as she rides the wave of intense bliss, rolling her hips, indulging in it, prolonging it for as long as she can.
Finally, the surge of her overwhelming orgasm ends, but she slumps, nearly lifeless in your grasp. You struggle to keep her up, and she keeps trying to grind her sensitive folds against you, but her exhaustion finally hits her. So you take her, back in your arms, and toward your kitchen table.
There she lays, shaking and sweating, struggling to catch her breath, and you want nothing more than to pry her delicate figure from that dress. You strip her, your mouth kissing every newly exposed surface of her perfect body.
"This is how things should have been, how life should have been," Moka mumbles, her dark hair swirling beneath her as she lays across your table. Her sweet skin comes into sight and you can't help running your hands along the feminine curve of her stomach. Her perfect breasts fit in the palms of your hands and you trace circles around her taut nipples as she sighs happily.
You undress, and she watches, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. Her expression is suddenly guilty, as though admiring a man naked isn't something a girl should do. But you caress her face, she's your beautiful enchantress, and that moment of hesitation seems to pass as she leans into the palm of your hand. Her eyes shimmer with acceptance, and she's accepting of all the dirty things she's thinking, all the things she's about to say. "I...I want you inside me," she whispers.
Your cock is erect and eager, so hard, aching, throbbing with the desire to know her warmth, and you line yourself with the wetness between her legs.
Gently, you lean forward, pressing the tip against her tightness. "Are you ready?"
"For however long I've waited," she breathes.
She's quivering under you, full of tension, gripping the edge of the table tightly. The expression on her face is so vulnerable, open and raw, so beautiful. Her chest rises and falls with her need, and there's a hunger burning in her, a fire begging to be ignited.
"Please," Moka begs.
"Gentle..." you tell her, though who it's meant for, you're not entirely sure. But you take a deep breath and ease into her slickness.
She gasps, her grip around the side of the table tightening. It takes a moment, but she grows accustomed, her tension dissipates and her trembling is overcome. She laughs, and the sound is nothing short of stunning. Chime-like, the light, airy melody fills the room as she touches herself. Cupping her supple breasts, and tugging her pink nipples, she indulges in her lust and rocks gently against your hard shaft.
"Fuck away my lusts. Fill the void, be the man I've needed so badly," her sweet voice begins to sing with pleasure, her pitch rising.
Her cunt is so warm and inviting, so wet, stretching tightly around you as you pump back and forth. Wet noises sound with every pass. Moka's eyes glaze over and her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you even deeper.
Your thrusting finds a comfortable, easy rhythm, and soon your hips are slapping eagerly against her every time you push in. Wet noises fill the air each time you drive into her deepest parts.
"God, yes..." her desperation only heightens, "Use me, please. Don't stop, fuck me."
"How could I ever?" you pant, both leaning in, sucking the taste of her chocolate mouth, twirling her tongue, drinking her intoxicating exhales.
She's a dream, this girl is made for indulgence. Her arms hook under yours, hands grasping your shoulders, digging into your back, desperate for some way to anchor herself. You want to touch every part of her, soak up her delicious little whimpers and commit them to memory. As your breath runs ragged and your heart pounds in your chest, nothing other than her is present in your mind. Nothing else matters. She is the pure embodiment of desire.
As the feverish motion speeds up, her soft breasts bounce and her entire body shimmers. Sweat glistens along her slender form and you push her to limits she's never known. Her cries run longer and louder until she's screaming, moaning your name, muttering incoherent praise.
"Moka..." you whisper her name, lacing her with what little you can say with a mind lost in the overwhelming bliss of her body.
It isn't long before your rhythm begins to break down. A rising and falling beat, speeding and slowing, stuttering with your every breath. She's drowning with you, and yet floating all at once. Latching onto you, refusing to let go. Desperate, clamping tightly onto you as you enter her deeper with each sharp thrust.
Panting, drenched, bodies so close. Your hard, feverish heat, her spiking lust, colliding with explosive fervour as you surge forward, burying yourself inside her and grunting as you shudder.
Unbridled and relentless, the swelling heat pulses through you and down your length. Rippling through her, filling her cunt, pouring into her. Her cries peak alongside yours. She shudders and shakes as your pulsing cock pumps a shockwave of ecstasy through her.
Delirious laughter escapes her when her rolling euphoria subsides, and her satisfied smile when she strokes her hand down your hot chest... everything about her... the delight of satisfaction washes through her.
Just what was that? That woman made you feel desires you could never imagine possible. Never could you have imagined something would make you feel as if you were flying.
Never could you imagine her.
And yet here she is.
"Can we..." she seems uncertain now, nervous, unsure.
You take her hands and kiss them. A delicate display of adoration that causes her nervous smile to transform into something happier, more certain. "What is it, Moka?"
She presses her finger to her lower lip, searching for the right words. "We can do this again, can't we?"
You can't resist chuckling at the blush that reaches her chest and the shy way she turns her head.
"Of course," you say.
-
Now you understand, even if vaguely, what happened and how things came to be; your actions and hers.
But, as always, the question remains... can a fantasy ever stay?
Moka is sitting outside on the small porch of your humble home. Fond memories occupy your thoughts; nights filled with bliss; mornings spent listening to her joyous voice.
"Are you having doubts?" she asks, unable to meet your gaze.
You sigh and rest against the rail. Her feelings are difficult to understand sometimes, but you have this odd connection, as if an invisible bridge exists between you, allowing you to feel her as she can you. She wants your happiness, you know that, she craves it, and yet...
"Will you stay?" you ask her quietly, a little afraid of the answer.
The setting sun casts pink across the sky. From the lush valley, there's a stream that cuts across the landscape, shaded by the greenery, broken only by the towering tree that stands tall in the distance. Its wide leaves filter the sunlight, casting gentle patterns in the trickling water. It really is such a peaceful place to live.
You stand and enjoy the moment. Fresh air, the calming simplicity of nature.
"I'm sorry," Moka's voice is only a whisper, "I don't know the limits of the magic that brought me here. If I stay, would I be stuck as a human? If I leave your side, would I ever be able to return? It's as much of a mystery to me as it is to you."
"Should I ask Murgo?"
"That fool? He didn't even know the chocolate was really magic. No," her voice grows firmer, "Don't trust the words of that merchant." Her hands clutch tightly at her knees, "I do have this feeling. I can't quite explain it, but, I've been feeling it since you first tasted me."
"Feeling?"
"A pulling—a tug—toward you, away from you too," she says. "Magic, desires, loneliness... maybe they've been woven together. I can't be sure."
"Not sure I understand."
"I feel it now. There's this need to be satisfied. And when I'm not, it feels like the magic will just tear me away."
You push away from the railing and step towards her. She's sitting, knees pulled against her chest, wearing nothing more than a white linen gown. Seeing her so small...
"So, if I just satisfy you..." You reach out and gently brush your knuckles along her soft cheek. Moka leans into your touch, her deep brown eyes gazing up. Your fingertips push through her silky dark hair and cup her delicate chin. As she stares at you, you can feel the deep, yearning emotion within her. "Then you will stay with me."
"I think—"
You interrupt her with a kiss. Softly locking your lips, bringing her comfort. Just a moment, simple tenderness. Then passion, as you open your mouth and taste the pure sugar of her tongue. Slipping around yours, her hot exhale, her warmth, both erotic and meaningful.
You can only pull away by taking her with you, pulling her up from the chair. Eagerly, Moka smiles and steps into your arms. Squeezing her tight, holding her around the waist, breathing her scent, feeling the tension inside yourself. She kisses you back with the same intensity, lips tight on yours, warm and dripping as they open, teasing you with her sweet taste.
You stumble back towards the railing, bodies entwined. Tilting your head, her chocolate flavour can make anyone addicted. Kissing her, nipping, sucking, biting her lip. Sinking into her warmth, her body. Lifting the hem of her short gown, running your fingers along the silky skin of her thighs. She arches back into the wooden railing, and you break apart the kiss as she sinks into the support behind her.
You take hold of her shoulders and turn her. She braces against the railing and leans forward, showing off that inviting, delicate shape. Between the arch of her back and the curve of her cute ass, she begs to be taken. And that thin linen may as well not even be there; it's so taut, so transparent.
You move behind her. In the fading light of the evening, the shadows reveal more than they hide. Lifting the cloth and leaving her bare. Running your hands down the lines of her hips and sides, your fingers lightly trace back up her ribs and finally, you cup one of her light breasts. Her nipple presses into the palm of your hand, and she's so sensitive, arching at even the slightest touch.
She looks back at you, her eyes longing, knowing what comes next. Spreading your fingers down between her legs, you run them along the slick, wet flesh waiting for you. She's already ready, dripping, and your fingertips only tease her. Bending, lining up your rigid cock against her wetness. You place your other hand on her hip and ready yourself, preparing to push forward.
"I'll never grow tired of this," you say.
Moka looks back at you, blushing, hair over her face as she tries to look through the veil. Before she can respond, you push, and she lets out a sharp cry at being filled. With her firmly held, you slide in and out of her dripping cunt. It's not a frantic, hurried pace, but deep, intense thrusts that give Moka what she needs—give her relief.
"Ah! That's so deep... so deep."
Her moans spill out without restraint. Such a vibrant voice, full of the lusts she's harbouring. Holding her firmly, plunging deeper and faster, her tiny pussy wrapping tightly around you. Wet, slippery squishing echoes through the empty air. Slaps sounding with every time your crotch strikes hers. It's all so lewd and brings you ever closer, keeps driving you.
The deeper her chest falls, the more she arches, and a deep moan escapes as her body shakes. Her orgasm comes strong, fast, and powerful, making her legs quake and her voice stutter. But you hold her and keep fucking. Slipping against her back, clinging to her waist, burying your face in her hair. Her trembling sex tenses and flexes and still she moans, incoherently telling you just how good it feels.
You've lost track of the number of times you've filled her tight cunt in the past few days, so this is just another one of many. She loves it, though; loves feeling you pour so deeply inside her. She'll do anything to feel it. So you fill her. Firm thrusts as you pump her full of your cum, right there on the porch.
-
During the moments she spends staring out the window, you run your hand down Moka's back. She hums a little sound, appreciating the act, and snuggles into the blanket further.
"Cold? I could go get the fire going again if you like."
Moka stares blankly, fixated on a flower just outside the window. She blinks and laughs suddenly.
"Hm? Sorry, what did you say?"
You repeat what you said and she quickly responds.
"It's alright, but there's something I need you to do."
"What is it?"
"Lie on the bed, let me ride you. I want to feel you fill me. I need it." She reaches a hand up and cradles her own breast, grasping at it and squeezing the supple mound.
It's getting worse—her constant need. Like an itch, she says. Something has to constantly be done to keep it from being painful. It's barely been two hours since you were last inside her, and it seems to be the only thing she can think about.
"Please. I just need a little more..."
You can't bring yourself to deny her. Not when she looks at you like that. So you stumble backwards, pulling her naked form along with you, and ungracefully land on your back. Already you're growing hard, just from looking up at her dainty body and recalling all the wonderful acts you have performed and thinking of what is yet to come.
Moka runs her hand through her hair and gazes downward, a serene look washing over her delicate features.
"Smiling suits you," you tell her.
Again, you watch her eyes light up at that little kind of praise. "Thank you," she says, blushing as she clambers across the bed to kneel above you. She fixes her knees on either side of your hips and runs her palms over your chest, teasing your body as her breasts sway before you.
"Oh..." she purrs as she rocks back and forth, rubbing her bare sex up and down your length. "Oh, yes..."
You hum with delight, but remain still for a moment, listening to the happy sounds she's making, letting her indulge in the simple foreplay.
Eventually, she can take it no longer. "Here..." She lifts herself with her thighs and wraps a single hand around your hardened cock, steadying it and gripping tight. With a single gasp, she guides you inside her. Her moisture envelops you and she's so tight, the way her pussy seems to suck you in all the way to the base. But once you reach that far point, you both let out a loud moan of satisfaction. She's got all of you, every last inch of your shaft has found its home inside her.
Moka rests there for a moment, staring down with these innocent, almost vulnerable brown eyes. From the soft feeling of her velvety interior and the cute, lewd look of her blissful face, you can't help yourself, and buck up into her, plunging even further in. She lets out a gasp and stumbles forward, catching herself on your chest.
"I'm sorry! Are you alright?" you ask.
The dark-haired girl giggles—something that pleases you more than you can describe—and returns to that dainty smile. She pulls her hips and then drives them against you, before groaning, "More than alright."
Moka finds her rhythm. Rolling and grinding her hips, each motion punctuated by her spiking arousal. Her small cunt welcomes the friction, drips with desire. You grip her waist, helping her balance as she bounces in your lap, pushing herself harder and faster each time. She pushes harder, taking more of you, and soon she's crying out your name, begging you to fill her with everything you have.
Her gorgeous form rocks above you. Thrusting vigorously, her little breasts barely bouncing in a way that you can't take your eyes away from. Moka digs her nails into your chest. Her moans and cries grow increasingly desperate.
"You're amazing," Moka moans through her pleasure, voice quivering and trembling with it.
You can feel her clenching tighter and tighter, her insides quaking as she begs, and pleads for release. It brings your climax close, and despite the urgency of her pleasure, she maintains a controlled rhythm. Not so fast as to short-circuit things, keeping you on the very edge of euphoria.
"God, I love the way you..." she exclaims as a bright flush blossoms across her face. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, muting her sound.
"What?" you struggle to speak as her slick folds wrap so tightly around you.
You don't know what it is, but something catches her attention. Her movements slow and she's searching, somehow peering through the dark outside. The noise has stopped too, usually at night there's a cacophony of singing insects and rustling, fluttering wings, but now nothing. No wind or creak or creasing leaf. Quiet. Dead quiet.
Moka slips off of your cock and crawls backwards to the end of the bed.
"What is it?" you ask.
Moka's lips twitch. Anxiety sets in over her features and she steps away from the bed, toward the window. Moonlight kisses her skin, the pale rays dancing on her shadowy form. Your heart falters and you realise... you really do want her here. Like this. Always.
"Moka?"
A strong gust blows and the window swings open. Her silky hair whips against her face, catching on her lips. She raises her hand, fingers hovering lightly in the moonlight. You remain motionless in fear of breaking whatever is occurring. Nothing feels right, not a single thing. As if the fabric of reality has been slashed in two.
The wind howls. The lights flicker and the fireplace across the room somehow brings itself to light. She turns to face it and the flames illuminate Moka's eyes. They glow a pale violet, the hue all wrong, ghostly. A tremble comes over her, and she says just five words. The last five words you'll ever hear from her.
"I'm sorry. I'll miss you."
Her hand turns to dust. The grains reflect the moon as they blow out of the window. You watch as the rest of her body follows, leaving only the imprint of where she once stood.
Time moves slowly—too slowly—like your heart, which can't beat. Something has broken, something in you, though not a sound passes through your lips. Tears stream from your eyes. The pain, the sorrow, the emptiness—it all feels irreparable. You can't bear it, and without a single word, without a single sound, the world goes black.
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 1 year ago
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thinkin about polite gaz being... not so polite when he realizes you're attracted to him. 
not like you let it slip on purpose. he only catches on because he's teasing you and flirting with you and he gets playfully physical and pins you against a wall. he does not miss the way your breath catches in your throat or the way you flush. bit submissive, aren't you?
his attitude changes instantly. he bets you he could keep you pinned right there. hell, he bets he could pick you up, toss you over his shoulder if he wanted to. when you ask him (a bit too breathlessly) if he'd really do that, he smirks at you and says there are plenty of reasons he might have to pick you up. makes it easier to show you who's boss, yeah?
your face gets so hot you think you might actually pass out. you fucking bottom.
he leans in, getting closer this time so you can't shy away; you have no choice but to hear him clearly. "you think you could handle being thrown around?"
if it killed you, you would die happy.
"how about i just throw you into bed instead?"
please, you squeak out.
his eyes gleam and he chuckles. "say please again and it'll be the floor."
nsfw ↓
he's not kidding about being able to pick you up either. or throw you. the moment he has a chance, he's definitely getting you into bed. and he's definitely enjoying how you squirm.
can i ask a favor of you? he asks, so politely, like he's not literally on top of you, pinning you down.
literally anything. you would do literally anything he asks.
"say please again. for me."
you stutter.
"you asked quite nicely for me to throw you. so if i ask, would you beg nicely for me to do other things?"
oh god. oh god. you're glad you're laying down, because you're sure your knees would give out if you were standing up.
when your brain reboots, you stumble over yourself to say yes, absolutely, please kiss me, please tear my clothes off, please hold me down and have your way with me--
god, he really likes that look on your face. he is really going to enjoy you. 
"you really are an excitable little thing, aren't you?" he says, smirk widening as his hand traces along your hip.
is that bad? you ask him.
"it's really hot. almost makes me feel bad for everything i want to do to you."
no, please, don't feel bad, you tell him. you immediately shift, trying to press yourself up against his body. you want him to use you for everything he wants. everything.
"so eager. can't wait, can you?"
no, you can't. you'll die if you have to wait. you try and fail to reign yourself in and be so fucking needy. you fumble with the buttons on your shirt, undoing them one by one, impatient and frustrated. he just smirks at you, letting you get yourself all worked up. just leans back and watches you, enjoying the sight.
when your mind catches up with what your hands are doing, you stall out on the last button. then, finally, he gives in and reaches forward to unhook it himself. then he yanks the whole shirt out of the way.
"good girl. god, you're cute when you're so red like that. you're really into this, aren't you?" his voice is sultry as his caress moves down to the button on your jeans. really just takes his damn time, enjoying how the slower he goes, the more desperate for him you get. but the way your hips twitch when he lays his hands on them has him fighting demons.
"that's it. keep moving. keep squirming." his voice is low and slow--he's trying to keep himself under control as much as you are. he wants so badly to grab your hips and just fucking rail you into the mattress, but it's more rewarding to be patient. how's he going to hear more of those sounds, see more of your desperate ploys to get under him, if it's all over right away?
obviously you have no such reservation. the moment he has your jeans unbuttoned, you're wiggling out of them and flipping onto your stomach, pushing your ass up in the air and fucking presenting yourself to him. please, you beg him, losing your goddamn mind, you can't take it anymore. can't he just...?
gaz damn near short-circuits at the image of you with your ass in the air. he barely manages to stop himself and weigh whether he should deny you a little bit more to heighten the anticipation.
fuck it. he can torment you more after he's inside you. multitasking.
you squeak in delight when he plants his hands between your shoulder blades and pushes your top half into the mattress, dragging your hips up toward his. he pushes you down, fitting his body over yours and putting his mouth next to your ear. he whispers right in your ear. "say please again."
please, please, please, you'll do anything, you tell him, wiggling your hips at him.
and he plans to take you up on that offer.
he leans in close, his breath warm on your skin. "good girl, he tells you. obedient girl."
you've never wanted to be under someone so badly.
your easy submission has him grinning. "are you a good girl all the time or just for me?"
for you, you mumble, hot with shame.
he pulls himself back even more and puts a knee on each side of you, pushing your legs apart. it gives you a shot of dopamine so intense you almost can't keep your ass up. 
"are you being good right now?"
you could be better for him, you tell him, so much better.
he likes the sound of that. it's getting hard to think, having your legs open and right there and he's trying to hold himself back but who wouldn't fall for the temptation he's experiencing right now? "how much better?"
you tell him you could please him more if you knew what he liked, if you could focus on him, if you didn't need more right now, if you didn't need him inside you so bad. your hips twitch again as you ramble, almost mindless.
"i like it when you speak so earnestly," he tells you.
that approval sends another shot of dopamine through you, and your hips buck against nothing. he hasn't even touched you there and you feel like you could finish any moment just from his voice. you're gonna die if you can't have him right now.
he's breathing heavier now, eyes fixed on your opening. his voice almost wavers, heavy with implication. "how bad do you need me, darling?" 
you start to dissolve into begging again--god dammit, he said he wanted you to beg and he's not even doing what you want, what you're begging for--and he interrupts. "you're going to ask properly first."
of course he's gonna make you fucking say it.
you beg and plead in every way you know how, promising every debased act you can think of. when his fingers finally press up against your heat--a teasingly light brush at first, and then a firm press--you dissolve into a mess of broken cries and pleas for him to keep going.
obviously he keeps talking to you in that low, sultry voice, telling you what an impatient little thing you are. chastising you. just another way to flex a little more power over you, and you're so weak for it. and then for that, he praises you.
"such a good girl," he tells you. "you want more?"
you open your mouth to say yes, you want everything, but then he presses his fingers in just the slightest bit, fingertips splitting you the slightest bit, and all you can do is keen. you rock your hips back into him desperately, sliding his fingers into you, and something in you snaps. you tip over the edge. oxytocin floods through you, your legs lock up, and shameless sounds fall from your lips. gaz's breath catches as you finish. then he grins.
gaz pulls you up to him fully and lies down above you. kisses you on the mouth and then trails his mouth down your jaw to your ear. "that was perfect," he says, breathless, and unashamedly horny about the fact that you just came on the second knuckles of two fingers.
you stare at him in muted shock yourself. you can't believe you just... you really just came like that? what's wrong with you?
"how about this," he says in a low, smooth voice. "since you were good, why don't you lay back down and let me fuck you properly?" he lifts your legs off the bed and raises your hips toward him. "let me do everything i want to you."
you swallow and nod, not trusting yourself to speak without squeaking.
"good girl." this time there's no hint of teasing. his eyes are hungry. "let your man take care of you."
...
[part 1] / part 2
more Gaz / masterlist tag
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m00npiez · 2 years ago
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Modern Steddie AU
“Oh she’s cute.” Robin points over to a table near the bar.
Steve follows her finger and the blonde in the pink pleated skirt is, in fact, very cute. “You should go talk to her.”
Robin gives him a look, “Literally everything about her screams ‘straight’ so no thanks,” she takes a sip of her cocktail, “Don’t feel like getting humiliated today.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “I doubt she’d humiliate you but suit yourself.” He stands and fluffs up his hair a little, “If you won’t, I sure as hell will.”
Before his friend can protest, Steve’s strutting over to the girl’s table. She looks up at him when he stops and leans slightly against the chair opposite from hers.
“Hi!” she greets before he can say anything. Her whole face lights up as she smiles. She’s definitely cute, but not exactly what Steve had in mind for the night.
“Hey,” Steve flashes his own smile, “I was just telling my friend how cute you are and wanted to know if I could maybe buy you a drink?”
Her face goes pink, but her smile falters slightly and a small frown forms. “Oh that’s so nice of you, but I’m actually a lesbian,” she seems genuinely upset at having to break this news to him. “I’m really sorry, you seem lovely.”
Steve’s eyes widen slightly, but his smile remains, “Oh, god, sorry I should have asked,” he laughs, “That’s totally my bad.”
She shakes her head and leans forward in her seat, “Not at all, sweetheart!” there’s a slight southern accent slipping through and her smile is back. “You couldn’t have known, I know I don’t exactly look the part.”
“Well, since I’m already here,” Steve smirks, glancing over his shoulder to where he can see Robin watching the scene unfold. Her eyes snap away once she realizes he’s looking at her. “My friend over there is single and also extremely gay.”
Chrissy looks over and her smile turns coy, “Now she’s cute,” her eyes snap back to Steve. “She’s the one who told you to come over?”
“The opposite, actually. She thought you were straight so, I came over instead.” Steve explains.
Chrissy nods, glances over her shoulder and then stands. “Well, I’ll just have to go over there then.”
Steve smiles, “I’m Steve, by the way.”
“Chrissy.” The blonde extends her hand and Steve shakes it. “Thank you for letting me know the girl I’ve been eyeing is queer.”
Steve gives her a two-finger salute and goes to walk away, but she grabs his wrist to stop him.
“Do you like men, by any chance?” Chrissy asks, her smile alluding to something.
“Is it that obvious?” Steve laughs.
She gives him a once-over, “The tight shirt sort of gave you away.”
“Fair enough. Why do you ask?”
Chrissy points over to a curly-haired guy covered in tattoos, who’s ordering at the bar, “You should go talk to my friend, Eddie, he’s been blabbing about the hot jock in the polo since you walked in.”
Steve swallows, he’d seen the guy when they walked in, but hadn’t allowed himself to look. He was the kind of hot and scary Steve usually avoided due to their usual disdain for preppy guys like Steve. But surely if he kept Chrissy around, he couldn’t be all bad.
“I don’t exactly seem like his type.” Steve points out, giving Chrissy a nervous glance.
She laughs, “Oh please, pretty boy with big eyes and a great body? You’re everyone’s type.”
“Not yours.”
“Trust me honey, if you were a masc lesbian I’d be all over you right about now.” Chrissy winks and Steve can feel his face heating up.
“I don’t want to bother him…”
Chrissy rolls her eyes, “Just use the same line you used on me, he doesn’t bite.” she pauses, “Unless you ask really nicely.”
Yeah she isn’t exactly easing his nerves with these little jabs.
“He looks like he carries a knife.” Steve’s just stalling at this point.
“I know he seems kinda mean and scary, but he’s really just a big ol’ softie, trust me,” she pats his shoulder, picks up her drink and starts walking towards Robin, “Now I’ve got a pretty lady to talk to, so get! Go make a move on the scary metalhead, Steve!”
Steve watches her go, his amusement growing at the sight of Robin’s panic when Chrissy plops down at their table.
Mustering up the courage to walk to the bar, he turns but immediately bumps into someone. The person manages to steady their drink and somehow prevent Steve from falling on his ass, grabbing him around the waist.
“Shit sorry!” Steve finds his footing, only to nearly lose it again when he looks up to find his face a few inches away from the aforementioned friend of Chrissy’s.
Eddie smiles, squeezes Steve’s waist once before releasing him, “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.”
Steve’s face must have been bloodshot at that point. Two people had called him sweetheart within the span of a few minutes. At this rate his brain was going to malfunction entirely.
Eddie studies him for a second, his eyes twinkling, before looking over to the now unoccupied table. He frowns, looking around the bar.
“She’s over there.” Steve points to where the two girls are deep in conversation.
Eddie’s eyes look from Steve to Chrissy and back again. “Were you heading back there?”
“Uh, no, actually,” Steve clears his throat. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “I was told to go talk to the scary metalhead?”
Eddie’s grin returned, showing off his dimples. Steve was allowing himself to stare at the man now, and god was he stunning.
“Scary? That’s rich coming from the girl who literally carries a knife with her.” Eddie sits down at the table and looks at Steve expectantly, “I don’t bite,” he gestures for him to sit, so he does.
“Apparently you do if I ask nicely,” Steve says, then feels his face heat up again when he hears what he said.
Eddie laughs, loud and beautiful, “God, she really knows how to play wingman, huh?”
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