#dragging other people down into your hole of hate is not

[mytardisisparked]

Joy is muscle memory. It shouldn't be, since it's an emotion we know from birth, but eventually, other people will make you feel silly for embracing it. The world will try to take your joy away. Your misery is an exploitable commodity, your hate is socially rewardable. You have to relearn joy. You have to start grasping at every opportunity for joy like a baby grabbing an adult's finger. You have to white-knuckle grip your love and passion until your joints lock in place and the joy can't slip away. You have to build the muscles that know how to be joyful and let the muscles that care what others think about your joy atrophy. Joy is muscle memory.

[star-whatevers]

AU where Shen Yuan gets transmigrated into a younger brother of Mobei-Jun. He manages to avoid getting axed in the inheritance struggle by being a slippery little bugger and a catty bitch that the warring siblings keep around for entertainment purposes. There's a pact that he has to be the last to go when their numbers are finally down to two and everything. He has teleportation powers, but since he doesn't actively cultivate they're not as powerful as Mobei-Jun's.

He's built like a bean pole, but somehow inherited a similar teleportation ability to Mobei-Jun. He spends 75% of his free time holed up in the library and puttering around any markets for books that by all appearances he hates, but won't stop buying. The other 25% he spends actively pissing people off for shits and giggles. His brothers find this hilarious and defend him from the foreign dignitaries he ends up trolling straight to rage.

He only gets in trouble with Mobei-Jun when he finds out that Shang Qinghua is Airplane and beats him with his own scrolls. Mobei-Jun walks in on this scene and is like 'my little brother, finally showing a shred of interest in something other than books, and it has to be with MY situationship'. He's like 3 seconds away from beating the snot out of Shen Yuan for trying to take HIS boy toy. Shen Yuan senses the murderous aura behind him before he's basically throwing in the towel and posturing to his brother like "he's one of the terrible authors, his crimes against words are numerous. I'm not trying to take your man."

Shen Yuan is trying so hard not to piss off the brother that will actually win the fight for inheritance that he ends up wingmaning him after that conflict. He also gets dragged into spars, and he can't tell if this is actually for his benefit or for Mobei-Jun to blow off steam with the added benefit of plausible deniability if he ends up dead at the end. Meanwhile Mobei-Jun is like 'ah, yes, another ally in my struggle to become king. I must make sure he is able to hold his own. He can live.'

Immortal Alliance Conference happens and Mobei-Jun goes there like in the novel to try to catch a couple minutes with Shang Qinghua, breaks Luo Binghe's seal and dips, but Shen Yuan appears and tries to usher him into the Endless Abyss. He gives Binghe some supplies and a weapon before having to try and distract Shen Qingqiu so Binghe can make an escape. He can only transport himself with his weak shadow powers, but he can buy time for Binghe to go down on his own.

Binghe's eventual escape from the Abyss means he comes straight to the Northern Palace and challenges Mobei-Jun in a fit of rage, coincidentally running into his savior - the only person who had been kind to him since his mother died. Shen Yuan becomes a quasi advisor, helping Luo Binghe's adventures and conquest. It's surprising that Luo Binghe doesn't seem to be interested in all the demon women he meets, but at least he doesn't have to endure being the third wheel to all the papapa.

[anantaru]

DAY 30 — hate sex

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — wriothesley, ayato, scaramouche, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, hate fucking, mild choking, they're assholes, exhibitionism, fingering, lots of teasing & they're meanies

𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY

"i don't, fuck— even know if i told you this," you whine out through a clenched jaw, your trembling frame luxuriating in the feeling of wriothesley's thick cock rubbing against your spongy spots as the spreading warmth of his body fuses inside of your own.

nevertheless, you continue your taunting— truthfully, there was nothing better other than uttering out words that you knew, would drive him absolutely crazy, "but i really fucking hate you."

amusement swiftly settles on the duke's face when he notices something happening in front of his eyes, in spite of himself, he can see it plain as day.

that your sweet, angel face, combined with those lewd sounds and your pain in the ass, as well as bratty attitude, would ultimately make him lose his mind beyond salivation— right now, his face reminded of someone who was on the brink of leaning into this, the thought of stepping your relationship up and breaking free of this, occasional hook up scene between two people clearly harboring distaste for each other.

yet, instead of melting into those hidden emotions, wriothesley then, leaves one hand to fall against the headboard before jerking his hips back into you, this time much harder and in attempt to conceal the fact that you've evidently turned him on with your attitude, fuck, he'd never get tired of hearing you.

"oh, don't worry sweetheart," wriothesley grins, your body trembling when you hear him, and as always, he senses how you shiver under his large weight, your chest rising and falling when he wraps one hand around your throat, lightly, while the other remained on the headboard to steady himself and to not suddenly suffocate you with his figure.

"the feeling is very mutual," he winks, the only thing that seemed appropriate to you personally in this situation, was to punch him, especially due to that stupid, handsome, dumb smirk on his face. (you didn't punch him)

"oh fuck you," you spat angrily before feeling how he softly draws his fingers into your throat, mesmerized when you swallow the assembled saliva down and make him sense your pulse underneath his palm, ugh, it's so hot— and you're impossibly sensitive, constantly fluttering your hole around his girth, always so cutely reactive and moaning when his cock twitches through your walls.

your mess of a body was shaking, quivering and jerking up when he teases you once more, proudly showcasing his strength on your throat while never stopping the aching drags of his erection that was making your face twist in pleasure.

𖧡 — AYATO

ayato thinks you owe him, in fact, he believes you owe him a lot more than you're currently giving him— aside from that, the most unfortunate fact was that he secretly liked having you close to him, pretending that it's a way of paying him back for whatever reason, more so share your sweet company and yes, of course, it's a bit of a predicament taking into consideration that he literally cannot stand your guts and neither can you force yourself to like his.

it's a bit embarrassing and you're barely being able to grasp on how much you you were capable to hate another person, yet the second you hear his voice, it's a horrible sound, one that you eagerly wanted to choke right out of him.

well, if only ayato wouldn't be so adapt with your body— remembering every part of you, didn't matter to him if it's been a week or a month, he remembers and targets the spots he knew had to be taken care of.

because the yashiro commissioner knows how to fuck you, please you and make you sob out uncontrollably— you have clearly had the opportunity to experience it yourself and even now, while pressed down against his work desk, with both legs tightly shut around his waist, you almost forget about all the deep-rooted hatred that was growing inside of your heart.

every dip and curve, his hand would find when he drags his cock through your walls with each whimper of his name littering across his ear shells, his sensitive tip repeatedly pushing in and out of your soaked walls that the constant pressure of penetration was making your head spin, your shaking frame twitching under him as he curves ever so wonderfully into your warm cunt.

it's too good, too delicious to pass up on when you forget all circumstances and focus on the hate induced thrusts of his pelvis rutting against yours— both minds being drunk of lust and that sensual taste of sex and euphoria lingering across the room, your pussy convulsing as his lips melt against your own, shushing all your worries.

𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE

"look at that," scaramouche grinned down on you, excited from head to toe, his ego downright overflowing when his tip pushes and presses into your warm, pulsing spots as he stares down on where your bodies connected.

his cock was slipping in an embarrassingly easy pace that it's quite shameful now that you think back on it, well, almost— at least scaramouche knew what places to target in order to make your spine curve and quiver when he leans his weight over your body to split your cunt a little better as he bucks backward, driving the intruding force of his length deeper with one hand steady on your shoulder.

you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a warm, passionate kiss before he sloppily groans into your mouth, his tongue lapping across your own when repeated thrusts power through the tight ring of your hole, his pelvis continuously kicking against you and forcing your spine to bend into his chest, "hah, i can barely move," he smirks, "you're too tight— embarrassing," he drawls, your walls fluttering as he leans his sweaty forehead over your own.

"seems like you missed me," scaramouche urges, hovering on top of you with a toothy smile, despite that leaning in for more, his fastened breathing close to your flustered cheeks as he grinds his cock deeper, finer and better— a small, little shade of pink manifesting across his face, everything about it was so sensual, so exposed.

without a doubt, whenever you would cross paths it would always end in the same story playing on repeat, almost like a broken record— and despite the fact that you weren't fond of him, or, scrap that, despite the fact that you hated him, a lot, you did like it, like him, kind of— most definitely when he fucks you like he hates you, because he does, but kisses you like you're in possession of the most delicious and softest lips.

or, digging a little deeper, when he, sometimes, wraps his arm around your waist when he accidentally falls asleep right beside you, hiding his fatigued face against your neck, leaning into your touch as he intertwines one hand with yours to stroke his thumb over your knuckles.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

it's a hard punch in your gut when alhaitham first stated that he didn't like you, nope, wasn't a fan of yours at all— and the way he phrased it infuriated you the most, it was so arrogant, detached and almost like he wanted you to know and feel bad.

it's not like you were forcing him to like you or anything, but the fact that he thought it was appropriate to tell you out of the blue while disregarding any negative emotions such confession could cause— to say it made you loathe him, detest his being with every vein in your body, was an understatement, truly.

but now, suddenly it's anomalous, like the first bite out of a warm home-made pastry you have never tried before.

then, a sudden wave of pleasure hits you, strong enough that you whimper when he first places both hands on your figure, when you find yourself pressed against a cold wall, a new sensation that was laced in thrill and excitement lusting up from deep inside, aflame and alive through your flesh like liquid fire in your veins.

your bodies were moving while concealed beneath the darkness with the scribe's hand long since stored under your panties and rubbing slow, precise circles on your clit— and the thought of doing something so sinful in the midst of the night, not to mention outside, was almost enough to turn you on entirely, drench his palm with your slick when the boiling heat inside of you changes its shape, manifesting into something exceptional.

"that— that doesn't change anything!" you argue, scowling as you lean your head against his chest, "you're still a snob."

"huh, what?" alhaitham huffs in between a relatively normal breathing, as if he didn't just fuck two fingers into your hole and was the single reason for your legs turning to jelly, wantonly destroying your stability, "i think you don't know what that word means," he mutters before rolling his eyes at you.

archons, you're so annoying, alhaitham could honestly tell you those exact words over and over again until he'd get a headache— and it fucks him up, you do, you never fail to irritate him but also make him intrigued. ugh, it fucks him up so dearly and you destroy his rational thoughts, he wanted to do nothing more other than distance himself from you if only you wouldn't be so damn addicting, and soft, or reactive when he prods one finger against your hole.

awakening at the touch, your desire for him flares anew as you buck your hips forward, driving his finger deeper, his digit spilling right into you when you greet him with a broken cry, your hips rolling and needful for more— alhaitham's eyes never averting their gaze from you, your hips searching and clinging on his body, a slight tremble reaching your spine when you hold your gaze on him, all now feeling in different way.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[cherryredstars]

I'm not done with my break, but....

Imagine Miguel or Price forcing you to take just the tip.

NSFW, 18+, Penetrative Sex with afab!reader:)))

His reading glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowed in concentration as both of his thumbs spread the sticky lips of your pussy apart. They give easily, showing him the wet mess between your thighs as you whine and squirm in embarrassment. It makes him chuckle. You're the one who begged him to stop working and pay attention to you. What's the point of being embarrassed now that he's playing with you? Silly little thing you are.

The cold air against you makes you jolt your hips, bucking them closer to him. He has this dreamy, hungry look in his eyes as he examines your pretty hole. A tiny little thing that clenches around nothing and cries tears of arousal. Sweet thing really was crying f'my attention, huh? He whispers down at you. S'mean of me to keep you waiting, wasn’t it?

The embarrassed nod of agreement you give him is the cutest little thing he's ever seen. He coos down at you, and you gasp when the cold frames of his glasses bump your clit as he gives an apologetic kiss to your hole. No more crying, m'here to make it all better, he reassures when he leans back into his former position. He moves his hips forward, groaning when his heavy tip slaps against the wet paradise between your legs. He rubs it against your center, quickly getting drunk on the thick, wet noise that the movement creates.

The underside of his tip, and then some, becomes glossy from the juice you keep spilling for him. It makes his own slit dribble with precum, and he looks up at you. The sweetest pout covers your face, and you sniffle once your eyes meet his. Your voice is so whiny when you ask him to stop teasing, that you need him inside you right at this very moment. His cute baby, so greedy and spoiled because of him. His sweet baby that he can't refuse, but always knows how to teach a lesson to.

His thumbs holding you open gives him a clear view of how his mushroom tip enters your waiting hole with a pop. The creamy noise of his head brushing against your walls sound divine, dragging a groan from his lips. You expect him to push further in, but instead he pulls out to the point where the two of you are barely connected. What are you-? you ask, only to be interrupted by your own mewl as he pushes his tip back inside of you. The smile he gives you is devilish, shaking his head the slightest bit as he continues the slow fucking of his tip. M'teaching you that it's rude to interrupt people when they're working.

You cry out in both pleasure and despair, trying to move your hips so you can sink further onto him. He sees through you instantly, tutting disapprovingly. His hands pull away from your cunt, a large hand pushing on your lower stomach to halt your movements while the other wraps around your thigh and holds it in place. The muscles of his arm flex around your thigh, and he moans out when he feels you clench around him from the display of power. You're forced to take what he gives, whimpering as he feeds your desperate hole his tip.

The warmth and wetness of your walls drives him mad, his eyes half-lidded as they watch. The stimulation is insane, especially when you clench around him in a sorry attempt to convince him to give you more. He doesn't, but he decides to be nice and extend his thumb down, flicking at the neglected bud between your legs. You sequel the moment he starts playing with it, and he curses as he feels his orgasm building. He swipes hard and quick at your button, trying to get you close before he finishes. When your leg in his grip begins to tense, he knows he's got you right where he wants you.

You cry out when he pulls his tip out. Usually, he would hate having his cum go to waste, but he can handle it just this once. His thumb presses into your clit, but he stops playing with it as he jerks himself off. With a few rough pumps, his thick cum splatters against your cunt. It paints your skin a beautiful milky white, and he wishes he had his phone on him to take a picture. For now, he's content to watch his cum slowly drip down to cover your entire cunt. His eyes sharpen as he watches the way his seed follows every dip and shape of your pussy, loving the lazy path it makes. But he's fucked the moment it reaches your aching hole.

Your little hole can't help but clench and throb, trying desperately to coax some of his cum inside of you. So fucking greedy. He has to grit his teeth, the hand on your leg tightening as he realigns his cock. You squel again when he pushes his tip, and cum, through your hole. Can't let it go to waste.

[jarofstyles]

Let Your Hair Down

Hello and welcome to the second part of Put Your Records On!

I think you’re realllly gonna enjoy it 🪩😈

Check out our Patreon for early access and 170+ exclusive writings!

WC- 3.6k

Warnings- exhibitionism, unprotected sex, it's dirty and I know ya'll eat that up

Being pulled into a bathroom stall with Harry Styles was the last thing Y/N would have ever imagined, but here she was. The man pressing her against the wall with his hand up the slit of her dress, a soft moan leaving her mouth as his nimble fingers found her clit with little problem. Maybe Harry had done this often, or he was just naturally gifted to know a woman’s body, but she didn’t care. For the first time in a long time, she felt really fucking good. 

“Fuck.” She whimpered, feeling lips drag down her neck. Her own hand reached between them to cup over his cock, his own noise of pleasure vibrating her as she felt him. It got a gasp from her, the fucking size of it against her palm. He was big. Big in the way she’d not experienced, and thick. Immediately she knew that she needed to feel it better, to take him inside of her and let him do whatever the fuck he wanted as long as she got to experience it. “You’re so big.” The words were higher pitched, Y/N panting as she felt a finger slip into her. 

“I know, sweetheart.” He cooed. “I’ll make sure you can handle it.” Y/N was sure he would. Nothing about him even hinted at the fact that he’d do anything but make her feel incredible. “Hate that you’ve had t’deal with little dicks and people who don’t know how to use them. Makes me sick thinking of them wasting such a pretty girl’s pussy.” His mouth was filthy, she was finding out. Thank god. He didn’t know how badly she needed a proper fuck, one where she’d be thinking about it for days after. Her purse had so thoughtfully been hung up on the back of the stall door, the empty bathroom full of the muffled music and their kisses. 

“Haven’t felt good in so long.” She admitted, grinding her cunt into his hand. “Make me feel good, please. Need it, need you.” Who the fuck cared if she sounded desperate? She was. SO fucking desperate that she was allowing him to fuck her here because she couldnt wait. He’d offered to take her to his place but she couldn’t wait that long to be touched. 

“I will, needy girl. Promise. M’not like those other guys…Gonna make sure you cum for me.” Harry was on a mission, it seemed. His palm smacked against her clit as he added another finger, making her whimper into the air. Teeth scraped against her neck as his free hand tugged the straps down of her dress, revealing her bare breasts. “Fuck me, you little minx. Look at you.” 

Harry was in awe of her, how pretty she was. How perfectly she fit into his hands, how she looked just like what he’d dreamed about- if not better. He couldn’t help himself, leaning his head down and pressing sloppy kisses to the curves of her tits before taking a nipple into his mouth. The reward was feeling her pussy pulse around his fingers, her hand in his hair as he lapped at her breast. The swollen little nipple was taken lightly between his teeth as he sucked, making her keen. Sure, he was a bit drunk , but he would never be able to forget this. She made such pretty noises, tasted so good on his tongue, and her cunt was vice tight around his fingers. Thankfully she was more than wet, making a mess on his fingers as he fucked them into her needy little hole. 

Y/N’s eyes closed as her head leaned against the wall. The man was bent slightly, sucking at her tits and making her close to cumming just from that. It had been ages since she’d orgasmed from fingering, and nipple play hadn’t always done much for her but the way Harry was doing it, she’d never felt something more erotic in her life. “H-Harry, please.” She pleaded. “I want you inside me. Fuck me, I need it.” As much as the woman wanted to test out his mouth, she was gagging for his cock. “I’ll suck you another time, I promise I just…” A sniffle left her. “I feel empty. I need more.” 

Instead of being offended, he hissed as he pulled away from her breasts. A string of spit that connected his lips to them broke as he rose back to full height, standing over her as his fingers fucked into her and scissored slightly, making her cling on to him. “Fingers aren’t enough for you, I know. Just needed to get you stretched.” His nose brushed hers as he took her for a sloppier kiss. “Tiny cunt wouldn’t be able to take it otherwise. Still have my doubts…” The faux pout made her whine. 

“I can, I can take it. I promise.” She swallowed, looking up at him in desperation. “Make it fit, please. I just want it in me, don’t care if it hurts.” It was true. Y/N would even like it if it hurt a little, as long as he got himself inside of her. “

“You sure, baby?” He taunted, watching her eyes glaze over as his fingers fucked into her harder. The sound was sloppy and filthy, knowing how wet she was getting for him, but he lived for shit like this. Loved that he finally got to meet Y/N and do the things he’d been thinking about for months. She was just his type. “I really don’t know if such a tight hole can take my cock, no matter how sopping wet it is.” 

“I can.” A mix of the desperation and drunkenness made her eyes water. “Give it to me, please. I’m begging you, fuck me. I’ll be so good for you, you can cum in me- I’m, birth control.” Her words stuttered as she pleaded with him. Harry cooed at her, clicking his tongue at the way she was losing it. 

“Oh, sweet little thing. No need to cry yet. I’ll be nice and give it to you.” He promised. “Undo my trousers for me.” This was quite possibly the most irresponsible thing for him to do and he knew it. Taking a girl he’d had a crush on into the bathroom at an after part and fucking her raw was something that would make his manager burst blood vessels, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was her snug cunt wrapped around him as he fucked her, he wanted to empty his balls in her and let her feel it drip down her thighs as they left the bathroom. 

The girl was obedient, taking his pants down to find a lack of briefs on him too. Harry’s knack for not wearing underpants had struck again, but this time it was a positive. Her smaller hand wrapped around him, stroking as their mouths buttoned together again, Harry letting out a grunt as her thumb rubbed over his weepy slit. He knew he’d been attracted to her for a while but having her hands on him now was sending him into overdrive. His hand curled around her throat as he moved his hips, fucking himself in her hand and licking into her mouth, desperate for more of her taste. 

There was only so much he could take, though. If he had it his way, they wouldn't be rushed, but considering it was a public restroom and there was a chance of getting caught he was aching to get inside of her. “You like to listen to directions?” Harry did love a person who was just as willing to please as he was. Being worshiped and doing the worshiping were both things he loved, but it was nice to see someone pine for him. There was a reason he loved his job as much as he did. 

“Sometimes.” Her eyes blinked up at him slowly, allowing his hand to slide up and his still wet fingers into her mouth. The man rubbed them over her tongue, pulling them out slowly before pushing back in. Y/N listened very well to directions so far, even if her eyes twinkled with the mischief he’d be happy to explore with her. The way she was sucking his fingers clean was a clear indication on how well they get along.

“I do love a bit of a challenge, but tonight I need you t’be good for me. We’ve got to be quick which…” He breathed out as she dragged her thumb over his slit again. “Is a shame, considering I want to spend hours on you. But since you seem so keen on trying to take me, m’gonna let you try.” 

Y/N hummed against his digits, real disappointment painting her features as he finally tugged them out. It was embarrassing to admit how much she’d liked doing that, fucking him with her hand and sucking on his fingers, seeing the dark glint in his gaze. But she wanted him in any way she could, and she wasn’t about to refuse him. “I can take it. You’ll make it fit.” 

A low growl echoed in the room as he placed his hands under her thighs, adjusting her dress to be pushed open before picking her up. It took her by surprise, the girl squeaking and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she was suddenly lifted and pinned against the wall but- fuck. Fuck, this was hot. She went to say just that, but he beat her to it. “Need you to try and be quiet for me, okay?” His lips pecked hers, far more chaste and sweet compared to the other kisses. “M’gonna make sure you feel good.” With her body snug against the wall and her legs around his hips, he released a thigh to guide himself to her entrance. 

In all her sex experiences, she couldn’t recall being this excited. Feeling him rub the tip through her slit, she was nearly buzzing in anticipation. The help of the alcohol reduced her nerves thankfully, because if she was sober she’d be losing her mind about him holding her up- but right now, all she could think about was the press of his head breaching her hole. 

He was right. He was big, almost too much so, but Y/N liked the feeling. They’d been feeding into something dirtier with that talk, but her sharp intake of breath made the man pause, looking at her for any sign to stop. “I know, sweetheart. It’s a lot. Do you want me to stop?”

“No, please don’t.” Her eyes widened. “No, I need it. Just- just push more in. I’m okay.” She wasn’t lying. Yeah, it did hurt a little but she could already feel herself adjusting. Going slow was just prolonging the pain. “It’s just been a while.” 

Harry liked the sound of that. Being the one to break her dry spell was an honor. “That’s alright.” He nuzzled his nose against hers as he let himself push further in. “Think you’ve just got a snug little cunt that’s needed a proper fuck. M’sorry it took us so long to meet.” It really was a shame. “Could’ve fixed this problem so much sooner.”

In all truth, Harry had a feeling he’d end up in a situation like this with Y/N. He’d had a crush for a while, sure, but he was ruthless when it came to the people he wanted to pursue, even if it didn’t seem like it. If it had been any other events in the last few months he’d have blown them off, but fate really did make them wait until now to indulge in one another- and he’d make sure that it wasn’t the last. 

“There we are, baby. Just let me in.” He coaxed, feeling her engulf him. “Almost there. M’so proud of you for taking it all. Know it isn’t easy, but you feels so fucking good wrapped around me.” Perfect for him, really. Hot, tight, slippery, hugging him the way he’d needed, he finally got all the way inside before grinding up into her. Y/N was at her limit, thankful he wasn’t a millimeter bigger otherwise she truly couldn’t have taken it- but this was perfect. 

“Please, go ahead.” She pleaded, threading her fingers through the hair at the bottom of his neck. “Fuck me, I know you can give me what I need.” 

And hell, he was up for the challenge. 

There was no way to describe how it felt between them. Electric, maybe? Erotic? His deep thrusts as he began to truly fuck into her, the sound of her wet cunt being thrust into and her muffled moans echoing off the stall walls, it felt like cloud nine. Her hair was a wreck behind her and she knew it, but there wasn’t a care in the world other than getting her fill of Harry. 

He was watching her with an intensity that she couldn’t match to anything else. Maybe it was just a part of his personality, that intent stare and all of his attention being on the person he was with, but having him watch her every move, every shift of her lips, it made her even more aroused. Her head rolled back, resting against the wall as he bounced her on his cock, reveling in the feeling of being filled up over and over again. 

Harry himself, he was trying his hardest not to orgasm too early. He was fucking her raw, feeling every inch of her silky cunt sheath around his bare cock with every movement. God, she was so wet and hot on his skin, and he knew he’d be thinking about this night for the rest of his life. There was no way he could let this be a one and done with how he was feeling. “You’re perfect.” He whispered, lips finding her exposed neck as he did the work for them. Feeling her fingers tug slightly at his hair only fueled him further. “Feel so fucking good, making a mess on my cock. Gonna make me walk out there with my cock wet in my pants, hm? Dripping down to my balls, gonna smell like you all night.” And he’d enjoy every single second of it. If it wasn’t gross, he’d spend the next few days with her smell on him. 

Maybe he’d just have to talk his way into having her come over and roll all over his sheets so her scent could linger. 

“Yeah.” She answered with a whimper. “And I-I want your cum dripping out of me when we walk out.” Y/N didn’t know where she found the guts to say that, but she had a hunch it was a mix of the lemon drops and Harry’s cock deep in her tummy. “No one’s gonna know but I will. I’ll feel it the whole time.” 

The words had him working faster, harder. It was hard not to get even more frenzied when she said that shit out loud, the thing he’d been hoping for all night. “Fuck, m’gonna give it to you. I’ll give you every drop.” His teeth grazed her neck, not thinking clearly as he pulled the skin into his mouth and sucked harshly. He heard her gasp, her fingers finding more of his hair and pushing him further into her neck. So he did it again, a bit further up as he held her still and fucked up into her. Completely entangled in each other, this was the best he’d ever felt at an after party and there were doubts it could get much better than this. 

Y/N had a thing for love bites, but she’d never expected Harry to go for that. Feeling the sting of it while he fucked her pushed her closer to her orgasm, the feeling of her clit rubbing against his torso and his cock digging right into her, it was hard to keep from moaning louder than she should have. 

Harry didn’t really care if they got caught anymore. The thrill of it was hotter than hell, someone walking in and finding out he was fucking the prettiest new IT Girl in the bathrooms after winning awards. A celebratory fuck and the beginning of something he was very excited to continue. Her moans stuttered as his thrusts punched into her, legs tightening around him as he licked over the tender spots on her neck. 

“Harry, Harry- oh my god, you’re gonna make me cum.” She tried to whisper but failed. How could she care about volume when she was having the best fuck of her life? 

“Good, that’s what we want. Isn’t it?” He hummed, hands tightening on her thighs while he continued his pace. It could be felt on his prick, every little quiver of her hole as she got closer and closer to the edge. “Don’t have to worry about not finishing when you’re with me. If we had more time you’d have at least t-three.” His own words stuttered as he could feel the heat crawling up his stomach and his balls tightening. “Do it for me, pretty girl. Cum all over my cock, want t’put it away wet. Don’t you? Cum for me.” 

Y/N did, she wanted to make sure she gave him what he wanted. His words encouraging her, his lips kissing under her hear tenderly, his cock hitting her where she needed, her swollen clit rubbing against his torso over and over again, she couldn’t help it. As hard as it had been in her other situations, Harry made it so fucking easy to get to that point, whimpers leaving her throat as he talked her through her orgasm. 

“There we go, that’s my girl. Fuck, you’re drenching me. Feels so good, you’re doing so fucking good.” He felt it as she came, a light gush making him even more wet. A hiss left his teeth, holding her body as it got a little weaker. “Oh, that’s what we needed. You’re perfect. I’m gonna give you e-everything I have.” 

Y/N was hazy but she managed to nod, pressing their lips back together with the remaining strength she had left. His thrusts became sloppy as he groaned into her mouth something that resembled her name, repeating it three times before he let out a broken “fuck’. She could feel it inside of her, the hot cum pulsing inside of her and making her moan in response. It felt incredible, being filled like this. His cock working it into her, the heat added to the end of her orgasm as he worked through his. 

“That’s perfect, H.” She whispered to him, stroking the nape of his neck and over his shoulders. “You’re so beautiful. I feel so good, you-you’re amazing.” It wasn’t her best work, but her brain felt like it had melted a bit. The man was responsive to the praise though, letting out a whine of his out before his hips stilled. The kisses continued but it was hard when they were both panting, smiles making it more difficult as she let out a giggle that was followed by his own. Standing there with his cum coated prick wasn’t how he imagined he’d end his evening, but he’d never been happier. 

“Shit.” She exhaled, head dropping back as his own rested against the side of hers. It was quiet for a few moments before he turned his lips to her cheek, peppering a few kisses there as they caught their breath. “So that’s what bathroom sex is like. And a penetrative orgasm.”

Harry burst into his own little laugh at her words, lifting the sensual mood into a sweeter one. His eyes were lighter as he looked at her, a fond smile on his swollen lips. “Yeah, darling. Somewhat. Bathroom sex isn’t always as good as that, but I think it’s good for us.” It was hard to concentrate even still, seeing how gorgeous she was. How he’d been lucky enough to be allowed to touch her so intimately was a mystery to him, but he was more than thrilled about it. “D’you want it to happen again?”

“Mmmm.” Pretending to thing, she laughed at his offended face. “I’d love to. Made a mess on you, you should know how good it was for me.” Brushing the hair out of his face, she wiped a bit of her lipstick from the corner of his lips. He was a bit of a mess, would definitely need a wet wipe to his neck and lips, but it was beautiful. Seeing him freshly fucked was a new favorite. “So, yeah. I would. But perhaps a bed or couch, even a kitchen counter. Don’t want to kill your back by doing this too often.”

“I’d happily fuck it up if it meant a repeat of that.” He scoffed. “C’mere.” Harry couldn’t stop kissing her, and hopefully he wouldn’t have to. A happy exhale left his nose as he pressed repetitive kisses to her mouth, making her giggle- but the moment was interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open and two very drunk, very loud girls walking in. 

“I heard Harry Styles was here but I haven’t seen him.” one of them huffed, making Y/N roll her lips together to stop from laughing. 

“I know. God, he’s gorgeous isn’t he? But he was hanging out with Y/N, and that makes me nervous. She’s fucking stunning too. I’d like a go with both of them.”

[sp1d3rzz]

Warning !! : Somnophilia, PiV unprotected (wrap b4 u tap), cumming inside, implied pregnancy, breeding kink..??? Let me know if i missed anything.

thinking abt how frustrated poor Shinso feels when every civilian underestimates him because of his 'villainous' quirk.

he isnt the first pro-hero with a rather intimidating quirk, so why is he the only one receiving hate for it??the bare thought of everything makes his head pound. all he needs right now is you, so he can release his pent up emotions.

his hand curls around the knob of his door and twists it open. the comforting smell of a clean apartment flows through the air and into his nose. " 'm home." he mumbles, entering and closing the door behind him.

when no one answers, his eyes eyes sharpen in annoyance. the one time he needs reassurance, you aren't there for him.

so when he walks through the house searching for you, he figures you might be resting in bed. perhaps even in the shower? no, he would've heard it running.

finally. he peaks past the cracked open bedroom door and sets his eyes on you.

"baby? you asleep?" and you are, arms hugging his pillow tightly to your body. one leg lifted higher onto the mattress to get you comfortable.

but what he really notices is your state of complete slumber. completely available for him to just post himself behind you and fuck you onto his cock.

its not like you're aren't prepped, wearing only a skimpy piece of panties and black tanktop. he can tell you were probably touching yourself earlier with how wet you still are. but don't worry, cause he's here now.

he starts by stripping free from his hero costume, untying his scarf and kicking off his shoes somewhere he doesn't even bother to look at.

and when he's left with only his boxers, he slides into bed, carefully so he doesn't wake you.

you look so at peace like this, eyes shut to where your lashes almost touch your cheeks. soft mumbles leaving your lips when the bed creaks a little too loud.

the mattress dips under him, and he positions himself behind you. a warm hand slides under your top and trails up your back. he can feel you shiver under his touch, and it makes him suck in a breath.

he pushes his hips against you , aligning the outline of his hard with the fat of your ass. "gonna fuck you so good." his other hand slips under your thigh and gently lifts up your leg.

suppressing a groan, he slips the head of his dick against your clothed pussy. the base slides up and down your warmth , tip brushing against your clit with every push and pull.

"risk my life out there, and those dumb ass– mmh– people don't even a-appreciate me.." each slow thrust against your slick makes his hips stutter. back and forth grinding against you, coating his cock with your wetness.

he hears you murmur and whine, unknowing of what exactly he's doing to you. what he's going to do to you.

a deep sigh leaves his lips before popping the tip into your cunt. "shit—" he doesn't expect you to take him so well, especially while you're still sound asleep.

his hand grasps a tight hold onto your thigh, holding on for dear life because he swears he's so close to reaching his orgasm already. slow and deep strokes get him impatient, so he decides to go faster, skin softly slapping together as he slides in and out of you.

your walls suck him in eagerly, taking all that he can give you. it gets him high with how good you make him feel. maybe, if he fills you up and gives you a baby, you'll stay with him forever.

"wan' me to make you a mama?" a hand slides down your skin to rub your clit, pads of his fingers circling your nerve. "bet you'd like that, huh?"

he knows you can't hear him, but he likes to think you do. begging him over and over again, pleading for him to give you what you really want.

his cock twitches inside of you, and releases pearly cum that seeps from your hole and onto the soft sheets.

he drops his head to your shoulder, grinding into you from behind, grunts brushing past his lips as he drags out whatever seed he might have left in him and pushes it into you.

and it isn't long before he hears you gasp softly, mumbling nothings as your hands search for his, making sure he really is there. "it's late.." you whine, easing yourself off of his cock.

but what really wakes you up is when he crashes you back down onto him to make you scream his name. "but i know you can take it."

"for me."

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I’ve been feeling a bit down lately — how do you think hotch (or spencer!) would react to a chubby!reader dealing with self-image insecurities!

(sorry if you’ve already written something similar <3)

love you!!!

You turn to the side again, running two hands down your front as you go. Spencer will make it worse if you catch him watching, but he loves taking you in, every part of you, and he’s hard-pushed to drag his gaze away. 

You frown and hold your breath. You pull your stomach in, squeeze the fat of your hips, and turn frontward to repeat the process. 

He turns away from you to finish threading his cufflinks through the holes in his shirtsleeves. “I’m surprised they’re having a baby already,” he says, though he told you this already. 

“I know,” you murmur back. “I thought they’d wait a while, but I suppose you don’t get to choose when it happens sometimes.” 

“He’s thinking about leaving the BAU.” 

“Really?” 

Spencer straightens his tie and turns. You’re more relaxed than you were, turned to him, too, a frown on your painted lips. 

“It makes sense, but I hate it.” Spencer takes your hand where it hangs loosely by your hip. “I hate saying goodbye to people.” 

“Well, don’t say goodbye to me.” 

“I wasn’t planning on it.” He finds your other hand. Holding them both, he leans back until his hair is falling off of his shoulders and getting caught in his shirt collar. You meet his eyes, smiling instinctually, a better sight than your sorry frown had been. 

You rub the back of his hand with your thumb. Quiet stretches, then ends. “Do you think this is alright?” you ask. 

“What, the dress? You look beautiful.” 

“It’s a bit…” You bring his hand gently to your stomach. “It doesn’t hide much.” 

“In my opinion, there’s nothing to hide.” You start to protest and he drags you toward him, hands lacing behind your back, restraining you without force. “No, listen, there’s nothing to hide. You look amazing.” 

“You swear? I wasn’t gonna ask, but I’m scared I’ll embarrass myself and not know it.” 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you’re just pretty.” Spencer steals a hand to run down your side. He isn’t sure if it’s the right thing to do, but he isn’t sure how to say it, either. He hopes his hand can do the talking, appreciative, practically adoring as it falls to the apex of your hip, his thumb rubbing at your stomach through the fabric. Your stomach which he loves, no matter what you think of it. “Every part of you is exactly how it should be.” 

“Even my dress?” 

“Especially the dress.” It falls like petals against your thighs. “You worry too much,” he says, knowing why you worry, but wishing you didn’t. He leans in until you’re nose to nose. 

“I know. Thank you, Spence,” you say, closing your eyes. 

He kisses you gently. 

[justadeadreaper]

These are mainly fluffy headcanons with slight themes of angst due to the nature of long deployments with implications/references of a death that could happen.

One thing people tend to forget about König working for a private military company is that he can still go on long deployments/missions that can take months to even years to complete where he would not be able to see his beloved.

König may be an extremely cocky man, which is something no one can deny from his voice lines. On the surface level he may think that no other person is skilled enough to kill him, but deep down that is not the case. Even if his anxiety does not actively affect him on a level you would truly notice it is still rooted deep in his brain as it spews out harrowing ideas that he can not get rid of as they nip at him while being made bigger by his trauma and past experiences. This causes a deep-seated paranoia about the idea of him dying on the field and leaving you all alone with your last memory of him being a sad one haunts him, or even worse in his time gone you completely forget about him and move on to someone new that could fill the hole he left behind.

This leads him to make the day before his long deployment the best of your life while he puts together a surprise to ensure you always have pieces of him while he is apart from you.

The day before he makes sure you have the best date of your life so far. It first starts with breakfast in your shared bed after he lets you sleep in until late in the morning, it is all your favourite breakfast foods and some of his own as he lets you splurge a bit and have your favourite dessert items as well while he eats his waffles with pistachio and strawberry ice cream. He loves to cuddle you and just stay in bed with you for a couple more hours to bathe in your love and warmth as you brush your hands through his hair before massaging his scalp before gently kissing all over his face, paying special attention to his scars. Once you finally get out of bed he takes you on a little shopping spree through your favourite stores letting you buy anything you want without worrying about the price even if you have to go to the sketchy game place that smells of death and sweat so he can get more figures or knives or guns or mangas for his collection. To end your adventure he would either take you to an aquarium or museum of your choice later in the evening so that fewer people are there just so you could have your moment together that looks like it is straight out of a movie. Before you leave you drag him towards the gift shop and he buys you whatever gifts you want  then he takes you home as he secretly calls your favourite takeout place so you can eat it together once it arrives as another surprise. Then to finish the day you spend the whole night cuddling and watching movies until you fall asleep. 

On a more spicy note, if you want children and do not have any yet I can see him trying his best to get you pregnant that night as he feels and loves you one last time just so if you lose him you will at least still have a part of him with you to help you pass through the years before you are reunited again.

In the morning he probably leaves with no word to you at all as he would hate your last memory to be one of heartbreak. Only a letter on his side of the bed. The first few pages are him apologising for leaving without a goodbye with the explanation that he is going on a long deployment before detailing how much he loves you, then he explains how he took a few of your shirts to use as a mask so he could always have your smell with him as he battles and a photo of you that he keeps above his heart so you can still be close to him, and finally on the last few pages are a detailed scavenger hunt with clues that lead you all over your shared homes with each clue leading to a spot with the clue being based on an important memory that was in that spot.

The items he would put in these spots varied and each time changed (unless it was his last time) but it was always the same types of items every time even if the spots changed.

In the first spot would always be some of his shirts, jackets, or hoodies that smelled of him so that when you were around the house you could wear them and be comforted by his scent as they would always smell heavily of his cologne. Every time after the first time he did this he would put different clothes in his place so you never got bored of the options he chose.

In the second spot would be a mixture of letters and USB sticks. There would be a letter on top explaining that the letters with white lily petals on the front and USBs with white lilies painted on them were for if he died, they have a gold writing on top that labels which life event of yours it was for and if you had children they would have the same and even if you did not have kids yet he still made some for future potential children, and the letters with forget-me-not petals on the front and USBs with forget-me-nots painted on them were for when you missed in and were struggling to deal with your life and different emotions without him there, and USBs with pink carnations painted on them that were just recorded videos him talking about different topics just for when you wanted to hear his voice talking about topics he found interesting. He explains in the top letter that the reason he wrote the letters and recorded videos that he put on the USB was due to the fact that in the letters he had to be concise and direct so he could get to everything he wanted to say while the videos are for him to be able to express all his emotions and not be confined to what would fit on the page as you see him be himself in the photos. Every time after the first time he did this he would put new letters and USBs in the place of the old ones to add to the collection with new responses to situations, topics, and emotions he thought of.

In the third spot would be a bear from Build-A-Bear (specifically the Pumpkin Sparkle bear due to it being ginger like him) that has multiple voice boxes in it that has recordings of him saying “I love you” or different compliments or nicknames he would usually call you with a custom heart too that bumped in the rhythm of his heart. The bear would be dressed up in a mini version of his normal uniform he wears on contracts as it holds a bottle of his favourite cologne just for you to use. Every time after the first time he did this he would put new clothes you could dress the bear up in based on his other outfits he wears on his contracts or at home or from when he dragged you to conventions.

In the fourth spot would be a scrapbook of your life together next to the small journals he took on deployments or used when his insomnia overwhelmed him which made it impossible to sleep. The scrapbook would have photos of all your dates together and important dates such as birthdays, promotions, holidays, etc. with petals and small drawings decorating the pages while the journals would be filled with countless pages filled with drawings of you, poems directed towards you or wrote solely about you, and ramblings about how he felt about you and everything he adored about you. Every time after the first time he did this he would create new scrapbooks that could be paired with the old that shows off more of your life events together and more journals that are filled to the brim with you.

In the fifth spot would be two books he made himself, the first is a cookbook bursting at the seams where he has handwritten all of the recipes that have been passed down his family over generations upon generations but alongside it are also recipes of all the dishes you enjoyed together or recipes he knew you loved even if you had never had the time to share them together, while the second is a book of all the jokes and puns he has told you or he wanted to tell you or he wanted to use when he was finally a dad or the kids were old enough to understand. Every time after the first time he did this he would write down new pages of jokes or recipes that he thought of that could be added to the books.

Apart from the scavenger hunt I also imagine him doing other things for when he is gone. The second most prominent thing is the little glass animals that he has hidden all around the house with a tiny scroll wrapped around their body or neck with a cute ribbon that matches the colour of the animal to keep it attached; once the scroll is unrolled it reveals it is a note about how much he loves you and how beautiful you are or compliments in general or motivation just so you can be reminded everyday of how much he loves you as if he never left, like he was still there with you. Something that could be considered as condescending that comes from his cockiness, and the undiagnosed autism I think he has, is how he writes down instructions and reminders for everyday he is on deployment for you to use as normally each morning he writes a chore list for the day with reminders for both of you to eat and drink. If you showed him how an Alexa worked he sets up the Alexa to do the reminders too but for the next 30 years just in case he dies.

When he is on deployment he will try to send back letters at any opportunity he gets as he collects trinkets to give you once he gets home. If you did have cameras set up around the house, whenever he has free time he is watching them to see how you are and what you are doing, and you can bet that if a speaker and microphone is attached to the camera he is using it to talk and have conversations with you even if they are short due to the nature of his work.

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Pretend It's Someone That Came for You (18+)

pairing: coworker!wonwoo x fem!touch-starved!reader

genre: coworker au, office au, strangers to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), fluffy fluffy fluff fluff

description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.

warnings: unprotected sex (do NOT pls my babes), soft dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, v loving sex, praise (f. receiving), confession of love, riding, fingering (f. receiving), pussy rubbing tihi, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, baby, darling, etc), VERY angsty beginning, yn is truly v sad so DO NOT READ THIS if u fear it will make u sad!!, they say i love u unrealistically fast but i had to do it, yn uses sex to feel less lonely/ends up feeling more lonely, relatable yn frs, slightly dramatized symptoms of touch-starvation (?), kinda boring plot but idc bc its CUTE AF

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "finally!!" (she was fed tf up), "stanley is the most stanley man ever. i hate him but i love him.", (more r coming she actually didnt have time 2 read this and i didnt want to wait with posting.)

wordcount: 10.0k

a/n: this story was supposed 2 have more angst, like it was supposed to have this whole misunderstanding, but it just didnt feel right, it made me sad, so instead this is a short n sweet love story xx

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you. 

You weren’t always like this. You remember being a sociable, joyful child; half-broken bikes and teddy bears and booster seats. You remember pigtails and popsicle sticks and Power Rangers, and what came after that? Being a moody teenager, became being a moody adult. High school became college, and college became an office job that served to keep you alive, even if it didn’t feel like being alive. College wasn’t that bad, you remember, so at what point had you mistaken isolation for privilege? And at what point had you gone too far into that tunnel-hole to turn back? 

 You must’ve been cursed, you think, putting on your outfit for work in the deadly still apartment. Dust dares not move, dares not give you hope that you are not alone. 

You must’ve been cursed, you think, coming into work to a string of half-hearted, mumbled greetings. Your office is off-white and black and gray and everyone inhabiting it is also off-white and black and gray, and their skin is faintly oily and sickly and their faces are dragging down as if the very earth was reclaiming them and you think that you fit in here better than anywhere else. 

You must’ve been cursed, you think, when you spend your day writing emails and organizing documents of information into different formats to send to huge corporations. Sometimes you fantasize about the other end of the transaction. Maybe their office is warm and brown with an accent of blue, and maybe people put hands on each other's shoulders, when they tell one another they’ve done a good job. 

Yes, there’s no other explanation, you think, and can’t even muster the energy to feel bad when you blame some old hag from your hometown. You think she must’ve conjured up the worst ingredients, something cartoonishly evil, and a spell befell you, sunk into the crevices of your skin and dug into your pores.

You lie on your couch with a glass of wine and the television going, but you’re not really listening. You don’t think anyone has touched you in six months. You’re not even sure you’re real anymore. You swear, you could live with no one hearing you out, because you’re not sure you’d have anything worthwhile to say, but you just needed someone to touch you. To reach out a hand and confirm, you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips, and I’m squeezing your shoulder, and I see you, and I feel you right here.

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

Lying physically very still, you still feel like you’re scrambling, fighting the clutch of the curse, and tugging on metal chains. Maybe that’s where all your energy goes. 

What do normal people do when they feel this bad?

Sometimes you leave open the window, and when the wind tugs at your door, you pretend it’s someone that came for you. 

Tug, tug, tug. The door rattles against its hinges when the fatally empty sky brings to you, in outstretched palms, the wind interlaced with glimmers of hope. 

There’s never anyone at the door.  _____________________________

This particular day starts like any other. You wake to your alarm and you put on clothes and you get ready and brush your teeth. Then you trample down to the bus stop. The sky is smothered by a duvet of heavy rain clouds. The rain hasn't come yet, but you know it will. Your fingers become stiff and hard, where they adhere to the polyester strap of your bag, massaging it. The bag is cold and dead.

The bus ride is by far the greatest part of your day. It’s quiet - early enough that you’re only accompanied by a few other souls. You rest your head on the window, vibrating gently against the curve of your forehead, and watch the people in the street. 

 The bus hums a gentle tune and snakes down the streets. Then you’re there, and whatever solace that it offers you under artificial light and mediocre, felted seats is gone. 

Your office building is maybe the most depressing place on earth. It’s no glamorous feat of architecture. It is but a large, orange-y, puke-y, brick square, and the building is shared between yours and the Forester company. You don’t talk to the Foresters, but you know they eat cream cheese bagels on their breaks and throw birthday parties and once you saw the branch manager squeezing a salesman’s shoulder and telling him he had done a good job. His fingers squeezed down and the movement of the fabric revealed a shoulder pad built into the suit. You remember thinking it was a shame that it blocked the real touch. 

Today, you walk up the stairs with heavy steps and you idle into the office building, eyes cast down to the dirty, gray carpet. You begin the long trek into the back of the building where your desk is located.

���Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard. 

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back. 

“Morning.”

“M-”

Wait a minute. 

Your greeting falls short. You don’t recognize that voice. Stopping in your tracks, your shoes scratch on the rough carpet, and lift your head to see him. 

The first thing you notice is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. He looks like he jumped out of an underwear commercial; he’s all strong jawline, sharp eyes, round glasses on his pretty nose, neatly trimmed, short dark hair stretching down the planes of his face. He’s wearing a button up (usually you wouldn’t even register the clothing your coworkers adorned, but something about how he wore it was noteworthy), a tie draping over the dress shirt, and formal slacks hugging his thighs. 

He smiles at you sheepishly, hands nervously smoothing down his thighs. 

“I’m Wonwoo” he says curtly, nodding to you. “Just transferred from the Wallingset branch.” 

You nod. “Right. Wallingset,” you nod more. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Y/n.” 

Something about your name on his lips makes your heart flutter. It’s pathetic, you know, but his peregrine being in his office chair, spilling your name from his pink lips makes you feel a little more real. You look at him and then you nod again-again, kicking your legs into gear again and walking the last stretch to your desk. 

You can see the back of his head from your orange-wood desk. Papers and sticky notes are scattered among the desktop. The monitor watches you accusingly, all big and square and black, waiting for you to open it up and begin working. Your eyes linger on him for a moment. Then you work. 

A few hours pass on emails and translating information from a company into a comprehensive sheet. However, today you’re having a hard time focusing on work. 

This is not new. 

Sometimes you briefly talk to a man at the grocery store, and your mind will wander to him for next week, wondering if he’s thinking about you too, imagining yourself cuddling with him, watching movies, imagining him telling you it’ll all be okay. Sometimes you briefly talk to a man on the street, sometimes it’s even a date, but whatever the case you obsess and you dream and you always end up alone. 

Today the victim of your depraved mind is Wonwoo. The guilt is easy to push away. You feel sorry for yourself. You think you deserve this. You think you can’t survive without this. And so you imagine him hugging you, stroking your hair, and you imagine him falling in love with you, and you imagine not being alone. Your fingers rest on your keyboard. It’s old and mechanical. You think it’s from a yard sale, probably an old woman whose children moved away. It’s plastic, and it curves inwards underneath the pads of your fingertips. The keys are cold and dead. 

You fully zone out, eyes blearing into the back of his head, but you don’t really see it, your mind has traveled elsewhere. You guiltily imagine his hand between your legs, on your chest, straddling him, kissing him. And it’s not rough, it’s loving, because in this world he loves you, and he’d do anything for you, and you don’t have to be alone again.

You don’t love Wonwoo. It’s not some magical love at first sight, it’s not a romance book, it’s real life. You’re lonely. You need this to survive. 

“Hey, Y/n?” 

You snap your head up. Maybe you were still daydreaming. But you recognized the voice well and true, and it was Wonwoo, leaned over your desk, hands in his pockets.

“Oh, uhm, hey-” your voice is shaky and you quickly rush to compose yourself, hands moving frantically and uselessly to glide papers over one another and, then, realizing that there was no point to your movements, stilling and looking up at him, cheeks flushed. “Hey.” 

Wonwoo smiles gently. “Uh, you know, I was wondering,” he looks around the office, as if surveying the area. “If you knew where to get a good lunch? I don’t know this area at all, so..” 

He trails off, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Now that he’s standing before you, it’s much harder to ignore the guilt you feel. You wanna gnaw at your nails until they’re nubs, you want to crawl under your desk and cover your eyes. Does he see how red your cheeks are? 

“Uhm- well- I don’t- I eat a packed lunch, so I’m-” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, no expert,” you giggle awkwardly and watch his gentle smile drop into pursed lips. “But! Uh- I hear the- the hot dog stand, uh, just a little down the street is good!” 

“Really? Maybe I should try it,” he contemplates, smile returning to his lips. “Would you mind showing me this mysterious hot dog stand?” 

“Uh-” 

Just seconds before you were thinking of his fingers in your pussy, and his hands caressing you, and him making you feel loved. He’s standing before you and he’s a totally normal guy, and you feel like shit. You feel like shit for using this fake image of him to comfort yourself. You can’t be around him, can’t convince yourself that maybe this’ll turn into something more - not when you always end up alone. Your brows furrow in determination.

“Actually, I have to, uh, get this done, so-” you gesture vaguely to your monitor. 

“Right! Yeah,” Wonwoo seems embarrassed, biting his lips and nodding. “It’s, uh, just down the street?” 

“Yeah, to the right when you walk out the building.” 

“For sure. Thanks,” he doesn’t even look at you then, just waves you off half-heartedly and starts trailing down the office. His shoulders are incredibly broad and his belt wraps tightly around his small waist.

You feel like shit.  _____________________________

Why is no one else cursed? 

You look out of the window, lying on your bed after work. Everything is very still and unmoving - your whole apartment feels like it’s knotted in strings, tightened until everything is snapped into place, and if you move the wrong muscles, the invisible hands will let go and everything will fly and hurdle through your home, and you can almost hear the sound, like the hard, empty sound of throwing a bowling ball and getting a strike. 

No one else is cursed. People crowd the streets with friends, family, partners, and they’re talking and laughing. You rest your head in the windowsill, a lone spectator in the window. The glass cuts you off from the streets. 

The afternoon after daydreaming the way you did about Wonwoo is always hard. Your apartment seems intent on suffocating you. Your daydreams serve as a reminder that you’re alone, that you truly have no one, and the act itself is so humiliating, you sulk into a glass of red wine and sometimes you cry. What do normal people do when they feel this bad, you wonder again, sobbing in your bed and spilling wine on your nightie. 

Nighttime falls early while you’re crying. You weep on and off, hug your knees, eat a microwave dinner and watch TV, light casting onto your pathetic form on the couch.

And in your most vulnerable state is when you most easily slip into your old habits. 

You press an old contact in your phone, one you’d tried to steer away from recently. You wipe mascara from your reddened cheeks, you wear pretty lingerie, and you lie, completely empty, void of any warmth, on your bed, awaiting.

It’s the first time he touches you in months. When his hand finds your shoulder, you shudder terribly. Sorry, he says, and he seems taken aback. Just ignore it, you plead, just ignore it. He does so, unsurely, and every time his hand grazes over your body you shudder and sob and every time he hesitates, asking if you’re okay, you cry at him to continue.

It feels good while it’s happening. Skin beneath your fingertips, hands on you, a face close to yours. You and him are the only thing moving in the apartment, synergizing on your bed, conjoining and writhing, and for just a moment, you don’t feel so alone. 

When you’re done the anonymous man stands back up, sliding on his pants in the late hour. He says it was great and you hum. But then he looks around, hesitating on every old piece of furniture, on every photo on the walls, and lastly on you.

“What?” you ask, lying naked in your bed. He grimaces at you, as if signaling that he can’t quite figure it out himself. 

“I don’t know,” he says slowly, hands on his newly-clothed hips and surveying the corners of the room, where shadows pool. “It feels haunted in here.” 

He leaves. 

When the warmth is gone, the bile rises in your throat. Old habits die hard, you think, and you feel totally empty. You couldn’t go on like this. It was nights like these you began to feel like a martyr - sacrificing yourself for a brief escape. Because when the door is closed with a click and you’re alone again, you feel yourself trembling and your heart is glowing red in the empty astral plane. Brief, easy forms of pleasure are often the most harmful.

It feels haunted in here. You remember his words, and before you finally fall asleep, you wonder one thing. You wonder if you’re already dead.  _____________________________

The next day is a pain to overcome. You’re slightly hungover, slightly sore, and very uncomfortable. But you comply with your routine, and you enjoy the bus ride, and when you get to the office everyone greets you. 

 “Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard. 

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back. 

“Morning, Y/n,” Wonwoo says. You look up from the carpet carefully, flashing him an apologetic smile. You hope he can read its intention: Sorry about being weird yesterday. You think he got it.

“Morning, Wonwoo.” 

And then you’re landing yourself at your own desk and beginning work once more. It’s boring, but today you ward off the daydreams and you focus, and you’re getting an exceptional amount done. 

The clock on the wall (off-white, but yellowing near the top) reads 12:28 when your boss, Stan, approaches your table. He’s half bald, and his suit is much too loose, and he has a ladder of wrinkles climbing his larger-than-life forehead. 

“Hey, N/n!” he calls, so loud that a couple of heads turn at the commotion. You’ve asked him several times not to call you that. 

“Stanley,” you breathe, tapping a stack of papers on your desk to neaten the pile. You wonder if you were in trouble, but if his smile is anything to go by, you’d guess not. 

“My favorite woman in accounting!” 

“Hehe,” you laugh half-heartedly. You catch the eye of Wonwoo, glancing over his shoulder with a small, teasing smile. You smile back. 

“I have a big- oh wait, wait, new guy, uhh, Jeon? Come over here real quick!” Suddenly his solid fingers waft the now scared Wonwoo over. The spectacled man’s shoulders hunch up as he moves off the chair, nodding respectfully. Wonwoo stands beside Stanley at your desk, and you focus your attention on Stanley, hoping to not get too lost in the idea of Wonwoo again - you were doing so good today. 

“I have a big job for you, and I thought you could work with Wonwoo on it,” Stan moves his hand up to cup the side of his mouth, as if telling you a big secret, “seeing as he was a bit of a star over in Wallingset.”

Shit. The guy you were daydreaming about was working with you? Wonwoo laughs, embarrassed, but you hardly have time to catch it. You can’t do this. Yesterday you were thinking about him fingering you while looking at you lovingly!

“We have a massive, new client! Just dropped a big competitor of ours, and they want us to do their six month report!” Stanley seems genuinely excited about this, so you can’t help feeling a little guilty that you’ll be a gobbering, slobbering mess, sitting beside Wonwoo on this. 

“That’s great-”

“I know! So, my two star members in accountancy, I’ll hand this off to you. The data should be coming into your emails soon,” without letting either of you react, Stanley hunches over, like a coach does before a little-league baseball game, wrapping his arms around both of you and Wonwoo. “You got this, troopers!” 

Stanley claps his hands on both of your backs, so hard you jerk forward at the movement, and then he bounces off to the elevator at the far end of the room. You sigh heavily from the interaction. It’s quiet for a moment, while you fiddle with the papers in front of you.

“What a guy,” Wonwoo muses finally, thin fingers resting on the edge of your desk. You giggle, unable to look him in the eye for fear that you might remember how you’d thought about starting a family with him. “Yeah.”

You and Wonwoo settle into an unoccupied meeting room, and it’s all very professional. Markers and post-its, trying to find the best way to structure the report, excel sheets to categorize and overlook data, double check numbers. 

However bad you think it’s going to be, you’re wrong. Wonwoo is easy to talk to - he’s quiet, but he’s intelligent, and he understands how to bring on conversation, even when you fold in on yourself like a used napkin. 

“Yeah, we used to steal signs from our neighborhood,” Wonwoo admits halfway into a conversation about your hometowns. “I don’t think that’s gonna fly anymore.” 

“Why stop now? You’re letting societal rules hold you back,” you joke, and the two of you laugh, and it’s so pathetic, you’re certain you haven’t laughed this much in years, and the conversation has lasted maybe 20 minutes. 

“Well, I could show you the craft, you know, it’s a delicate process-” 

While Wonwoo talks your phone buzzes and you absent-mindedly pick it up, reviewing the notification.

Your grin drops. Faintly, you hear Wonwoo stop talking. He tilts his head to study the way you frown at the screen. “What’s up?” he asks. 

It’s the guy from last night and he’s asking if you’ll be available again tonight. 

Maybe it’s how you could almost forget it - how you let yourself into positions that would hurt you, just to feel seen and heard and touched. Maybe it’s the dichotomy of that encounter and now, talking to Wonwoo, and having the laughter steal away the loneliness. But you’re reminded so terribly of your position. You’re reminded that this, too, will end, and that the loneliness will return. You’re reminded that once the shift ends, you’re alone again. 

Suddenly you’re a thousand daggers all pointing out. You shield yourself. 

“Uh,” you trail off, putting the phone down again. “Just some guy.” 

Wonwoo’s eyebrows raise. “Boyfriend?” 

“No!” you say quickly. “No, he’s, uh. Just some guy.” 

A pause. 

“Okay,” Wonwoo says. You don’t even remember where you left off the conversation. You bite your lip because everything is all agony. The table is cold and dead beneath your hand. 

“I’m thinking we group these together,” you say, eyes now tuned to your screen and fully submerged back into your work. Work. That was all that could cover your beaten down, cursed self. 

The rest of the shift you feel Wonwoo looking at you carefully, as if he’s trying to read you. You don’t talk about yourselves anymore, no more banter, no more witty comments. You structure the report, and try to ignore how his eyes laser you open. You don’t like it. You feel like he can tell you’re a pathetic, lonely woman and that you have nothing and no one. You feel like he can sense the curse upon you. 

This would be torture.  _____________________________

It is not torture. 

The next day, to your surprise, Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen. You wait 5, 10, then 15 minutes in the meeting room you’d camped in, before you begin working on your own. It’s slower without him, but you manage. 

You can’t help but slightly worry about him. It feels stupid. You know you’re putting too much emotion into a person you’d known for two days, but you can’t help it. You wonder if he’s gotten hurt or injured, or if maybe he hates you and has transferred back. You think even Excel finds you pathetic. 

You sit there for three hours, among the ruins of paperwork and your open laptop, running your hand through your hair and typing in sentences that mean nothing, and the wallpaper is off-white and yellowing at the top, and the blinds are closed to the meeting room. 

Around 1 PM the door to the meeting room is opened, wood smacking against the glass that surrounds it, and Wonwoo stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath. You snap your head up to him, like the jerk of a lifeless doll, suddenly interrupted from a very disorganized Excel sheet.

“Hi, shit, sorry,” he gasps, slinging his bag off of his shoulder to sit down next to you. 

“Are you okay?” you ask immediately, and Wonwoo nods blindly, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “Yeah,” he says, cheeks slightly flushed and licking his lips. “My cat- my cat needed surgery, she got sick last night, it was an emergency.” 

You nod in understanding, “it’s okay-” 

You can hardly get the words out before Wonwoo rolls his chair back, wheels resounding hollowly on the floor, so he can look at you clearly. “I’m really sorry about this, it was not nice of me to leave you alone with this.” He gestures vaguely to the scattered papers, and you shake your head.

“It’s okay, Wonwoo, I get it,” you say reassuringly, peering up at him through your lashes. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re here now.” 

Wonwoo seems less intent on personal conversations today - it’s probably because he was so late, and now is trying to make up the time. But it’s okay, in fact you’re somewhat relieved, because it dampens the false hope that blooms in your chest, whenever he asks you about your life. 

Even if you and Wonwoo work hard and quietly, you slip into the late hours of the night in an attempt to keep on track for your schedule. Outside the windows that separate you from real life, the sky turns orange, and then dark, muted blue, and stars begin dotting its impressive stretches. People begin to leave around five, and by the time you and Wonwoo finish all your work, you’re the last ones left on your floor of the office. 

Wonwoo lets out a loud sigh when he finally finishes the second segment of your report, and the both of you slump back in your seats. 

“It’s so fucking late,” Wonwoo limply throws his hand in the direction of the window. You smile a little, looking out. Smaller buildings spawn geometrically from the ground, and every once in a while someone walks by with their dog, spotlighted by the stretch of street lamps that stand outside the parking lot. “I really am sorry about this, you know. Really ruined your night,” he says quietly. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine, I had nothing to come home to anyway.” 

There’s a pause.

Wonwoo looks at you intensely. Oh shit, you realize, was that too obvious? Was that too pathetic? Has it just clicked that you’re a loser that no one wants? You nervously look back at him, but there’s no malice in his eyes. A totally unreadable expression adorns his features, where he’s leaned back in his leather chair, legs spread invitingly. You look away, feeling dumb. 

“At least we followed our schedule!” you say. Wonwoo snorts.

“Yeah, thanks to you. If you hadn’t completed so much before I got here, it would’ve been hopeless.” 

Now it’s your turn to scoff, blushing lightly and looking at the linoleum flooring. “I don’t know about tha-” 

“Seriously, Y/n, just take the compliment,” Wonwoo reaches a hand over, and you watch its movement.

It’s like time slows down, not like the movies, no, like you can stop time with the heavy weight of your gaze, pinning his muscles in place. But you can’t, and it lands on your shoulder with a soft thud. Fuck. His hand is warm and alive on you. 

“You did so well today, I-” Wonwoo cuts himself off, because suddenly you’re trembling. 

He feels your body shuddering and jerking under his hand, like the wind rattles your door when you leave it open, and he can’t see your face behind a curtain of hair, but he hears you gasp, and, fuck, you look like you’re sobbing. 

The man from last night had become so hesitant when you reacted this way. When your body trembled and shook and when you cried, but Wonwoo seems to understand. He peers at you from above the rims of his glasses, and his hand stays put right there on your shoulder. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, so sincere it causes a pathetic squeak to escape you. What must he think of you? The thoughts spiral and you can’t control a single one of them, they dance like freed souls in your head, and you can’t stop the spasming of your muscles, and you know you look so pathetic beside him right. “Y/n, look at me.” 

You don’t. You can’t. You can’t because there are tears spilling from the rims of your eyes, and rolling down your cheeks, wet and glossy. Besides, you’re an ugly crier. 

“Look at me,” he says seriously, finger tightening on your shoulder. You try to steady your breath and calm your tears, before you obey and begin to turn your chair. The simple motion requires so much effort - it’s like the air has become so thick, that the friction against your leather seat slows you down. 

Finally you turn to him, eyes first resting on his knees, then, carefully, traveling up to his face. He’s frowning. 

Your face is reddened and your eyes are puffy, your cheeks are shiny and you chew your bottom lip in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay. 

Wonwoo looks genuinely devastated. The hand on your shoulder softens its grasp, then begins petting your arm, rubbing up and down. The action has you choking out gasps, trembling even more in his hold, and Wonwoo feels the need to roll his chair closer to you, so his other hand can grab yours. His thumb rubs over the back of it, and he lowers his head to look at you. 

“Shh, relax, relax, Y/n,” he whispers, and you try to nod, but it’s so overwhelming; being touched, being seen, being heard, all at once. For months, maybe years, no one has touched you like this - as if they care. Now the feeling is foreign, so scorching hot on your arm and your hand, your body can’t take it anymore. You’re stuck between wanting to lean into his hands, wanting to feel how real you are, and how physically true your existence is, and wanting to shy away. What must he think of you? 

“Y/n,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the sigh of your sobbing. “When was the last time someone touched you?” 

You hiccup painfully. “Uhm- I- I don’t, ” your eyes are bleary and your lashes are wet. Your lip trembles and your whole body shakes when you try to breathe. 

Apparently this was enough of an answer for Wonwoo, because he suddenly stands, somewhat harshly tugging you into a standing position too, and pulls you directly into the harbor of his arms. 

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his torso. His chest is pressed flat against yours, so, so warm, when he nudges your head into the crook of his neck, and presses his face against its side, sighing softly into you, and breathing warm air onto your hair. His palms push you into him, soothing your trembling body, and holding you like an anker. One hand travels up to your hair. 

“W-Wonwoo, you don’t have to-”

“Shh,” he quiets you immediately, voice the softest wind of a peach tree. “Just let me take care of you.” 

You do. Wonwoo holds you until you stop crying, and though it must’ve been twenty minutes or so, it feels like no time at all. Standing in his space, breathing in his dark cologne, and letting his heat thaw your dead heart is a totally timeless act. Joy and serenity flows from the places where your bodies touch. When you stop crying, Wonwoo holds you for longer. 

Eventually, he lets you go. 

You step back sheepishly, now much calmer and the red in your face faded. You wipe your tired eyes shyly with your sleeve. 

“Thank you, Wonwoo,” you mumble, voice thick and garbled. When you look up at him, he smiles softly, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly, arm extending one last time to squeeze your forearm. Then it falls limp again. 

“I, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Of course.” 

When you return home, you’re buzzing. Your entire apartment buzzes along with you, things seem to clatter and beam along with the bright, glowing of your heart. You snuggle into bed and nothing is still and even when you’re drifting into sleep, your nerve endings spin in joyful circles, and your feet are a static hum. Suddenly you are very, very real. _____________________________

You’d think the next day would be tense and awkward, and maybe it is at first, but soon enough you’re talking again, more intimately than before even. 

This is Wonwoo’s doing - you know this. You know he’s smart and you know he doesn’t want you to feel bad, so he makes conversation and builds trust between the two of you. You know he hopes you don’t feel insecure. Every word he says and every flick of his eyes is riddled with it. 

The conversation decidedly slows down your progress, so Wonwoo once more suggests staying overtime. You look at him for a moment before agreeing. 

You can’t tell what his end goal is. A chamber of your heart has been revived and rebirthed, and you’re more chipper, more bouncy, but the rest of your heart insists: you’re still cursed - eventually it’ll go back to how it should be. You listen. You try not to get your hopes up that Wonwoo really cares about you. Why should he, really?

Although when you’re done for the day, about an hour after your usual 5 PM, you stand up and begin to pack your things, laptop sliding into your bag and clustering pens in your hand. It’s gray outside, but the sun comes in a single strand through a gap in the smog and the clouds. The wind hoots by the windows, and it smells like the indian you ordered for lunch together. 

You stop your packing, feeling a set of eyes in your back. You twist your head to see him.

Wonwoo is sitting completely still in his chair, slack-covered legs spread open, and he makes no move to collect his own things. He just stares. 

“What’s up?” you quip. You’re slightly nervous. Just before it was all silly childhood stories, college and weed and life before the dead-end job. Now Wonwoo has that unreadable expression on his face again. 

He slowly lifts his hands from the armrest, eyes locked with yours, and claps his palms on the tops of his thighs. 

Your eyebrows furrow. 

“Wha-” 

“Come here,” he says simply. When you stand completely still, like a deer in the headlights, Wonwoo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “What? You think you’re cured because someone hugged you once?” 

“Cured?”

“You’re touch-starved, Y/n,” Wonwoo states matter-of-factly, “you need to be touched.” 

“Touch-starved?” you echo, a bewildered expression on your face.

“We can also just hug, like yesterday,” he suggests calmly. You envy his collectedness. “I just don’t want you to feel bad. So please. Come sit.”

To emphasize, Wonwoo pats his thighs again, patiently. You step away from your bag with hesitating steps, pursing your lips. Your cheeks blaze when you look at his thighs again - they’re so long, and the folds in his slacks stretch down and centralize on his crotch and- You’re being a pervert. 

“Okay,” you squeak and Wonwoo tuts. Why is that hot, you think, why the hell is that hot?

“We can just hug if you-” 

You feel bold.

Without letting him finish, you swing your leg over his, and plop down, straddling halfway down his thighs. You thank God you put pants on this morning instead of a skirt, when you look down at where you rest on top of him. 

Wonwoo is a little taken aback, but when you’ve settled on him, his hands find your waist and he looks up at you with a hum. Your breathing is a little shaky. Once again his hands provide a pumping of golden joy into your body, and more of you comes alive and becomes real, and you smile. 

What had Wonwoo been talking about? Touch-starved?

“What’s, um-” your question is cut off with a gasp, when Wonwoo uses his hands on your middle to tug you closer. You rest on the highest point of thighs that you can without sitting on his dick. Cheeks red and eyes squeezed shut, you hear how Wonwoo hums, pleased. “What were you talking about? Touch-starved?” you whisper, keeping your eyes shut. 

Wonwoo sighs, and once more, like the movement is entirely replayed, his hand finds your hair and pushes your face into the crook of his neck. You sigh against it, enjoying how his arms protect you and hide you from the evil of the world. 

“If you don’t touch anyone,” Wonwoo begins, his voice low bass in your ear, “you become touch-starved. That’s why you reacted the way you did yesterday.” 

His hands run up and down your sides. 

“But- but I’m not crying today,” you say quietly into his neck. Wonwoo hums.

“No, that’s good,” he says. “We can stop if you really want, I just wa-”

“No!” your voice squeaks immediately, and, as if he were running from you, you fist his shirt to keep him close. 

“Okay,” there’s a smile in Wonwoo’s voice. You can’t see it but you can imagine it. 

Comfortable silence. Wonwoo traces patterns on your back and you breathe deeply against the skin of his neck. The two of you function as one living thing, the only living thing left in the office. Chairs are turned halfway, a couple lights are left on. The desks betray the past presence of humans. 

“Wonwoo,” you pip. 

“Mhm?” 

“You don’t have to do this, you know? I don’t want you to do it if you- if it’s just.. Pity.” 

Wonwoo sighs, and you feel the way his torso deflates underneath you. He trails his hand up from your back to tap your cheek. You move back and look at him. 

Your faces are very close, you can feel how your exhales collide and then scatter, hell, you think you could count each of his eyelashes from here. 

“I already told you. I’m doing this because I don’t want you to feel bad. I-” he hesitates for a moment, pursing his lips. “I’ve been there. So I know what it’s like.” 

The thought of Wonwoo feeling like this, like you, is sickening. Genuinely sickening, you feel your insides turn to rot and mold and you frown so deeply, you think your lips might forever lock in that position. 

“I’m okay now,” he reassures, reading you immediately. His hand finds your cheek and he almost cries out at the way you lean into it blindly. 

“How did you-.. I- I always thought it was, like, a lifelong curse,” you say.

“A curse?” Wonwoo grins, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek. It makes you happy, it makes you feel like your heart will burst. 

“Yeah. I guess I just blamed some old woman from my hometown,” you giggle, blushing a little because, yes, it did sound stupid when you weren’t just echoing the theory to yourself, like playing a team sport alone. 

“You’re not cursed,” Wonwoo promises, tucking your head into his chest. “I’ll help you, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you from now on.” 

He does take care of you. 

Every day you work overtime, and every day when you’re done with work, Wonwoo slides you into his lap and holds you, while you curl up in his chest. Then you talk and you laugh, and you listen to each other's music. His hands run warm up your back and in your hair and on your hips, gentle caresses, deeply intimate. For two weeks you and Wonwoo indulge in this nighttime ritual. 

You have not felt lonely since that night. And Wonwoo can tell. Your skin is warmer and brighter, you smile wider, your eyes twinkle, and there’s energy in every movement. Your body thaws under his warm hands every night, and sometimes when you smile, he gets so happy he could kiss you. 

You realize you like Wonwoo one particular night when you’re falling asleep in your bed and you can still feel the ghost of his arms around you and it lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep, and when you wake up you smell a little bit like his cologne. That’s how you realize. You like how considerate and how gentle he is, you like how sweet he is to you, you like how he looks when he smiles and when he laughs and you like how much he loves his cat. You like how his arms feel wrapped around you. 

And you like him, and suddenly your apartment is a song that you dance in, and every photo on your walls is smiling and your bed is always warm and so is your heart. 

There’s nothing dead in here, you think, when you cook a delicious meal on the stovetop, sauce bubbling in a stainless steel pan. Nothing haunted about your home or your heart. _____________________________

“We’re almost done.” 

“Mhm.” 

“I can’t believe we’re almost done!” 

Wonwoo looks up, bemused, lips made small and pointed. You’re staring at the almost-done document, scrolling up and down through long and arduous paragraphs. It’s nighttime again - not that you had to stay late today, it was a choice - and the city glimmers brilliantly in the coolness. You and Wonwoo wear sweaters to keep warm. 

“Feels like a lifetime,” Wonwoo murmurs, same smile upon his beautiful face. His cheekbones point out from beneath his skin. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, leaning back. You won’t put your fingers back on the keyboard. Not when it could be done so soon. You look at him, all snuggled up in a brown sweater. “What if..” 

A pause. He tilts his head.

“Well, are we still gonna talk?” you chew your lip dejectedly, feeling a little sad and desperate, but Wonwoo only laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, it’s one you associate with joy. 

“Of course,” he says, as his laughter quiets down. “If you want to.” 

A shy smile forms on your lips. You turn to look back at the computer, but you hear the now-familiar sound of Wonwoo patting his thighs. You flit your eyes back to him, teasingly scolding.

“We’re not done.” 

“We don’t have to be done now,” he shrugs, an equally teasing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes, but, unsurprisingly, you shift over to him, sitting down in his lap. He immediately tugs you closer, fingers searching for stimulation on the seams of your jeans. There’s something different about Wonwoo today, you realize, his touch is more feverish, his fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips and he looks up at you like you’re a diamond-encrusted chandelier, hanging from the ceiling, all glittering jewels. 

“What’s up?” you giggle nervously. It’s becoming hard to breathe with the way he paws at your hips. 

There’s something in the air between you, but maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, concocting the magnetic pull that lingers between you, the thicker, heavier air, that urges you closer. 

He sighs heavily, as if he was dreading this. All of a sudden composed, cool, icy Wonwoo is chewing his lip and avoiding your eyes, looking instead down where your fat gives way for his needy fingers. 

“I, uh, I really like you, Y/n,” his voice shakes. “Would you. Maybe. Want to go out some time?” 

At the last syllable his gaze locks on to yours, and you watch him visibly relax, because you’re fucking grinning. 

Not maliciously, not crudely, not a dime or a dab of evil, only genuine joy. 

“I-I would like that,” you control your smile, pointing your lips in the same way that Wonwoo does and blushing all over. Wonwoo grins too and it’s unbearably boyish. 

“Okay,” he says, as if he can’t believe it. “Okay. Great.” 

The window slams shut, the spell is undone by his hand, the dead defy their only law to bow to his necromancy. Wonwoo is alive and warm underneath you, and you are alive and warm on top of him, thighs pushed up against his and tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Your balloon of heart pops in your chest, and the bone-cage of your chest is filled with helium, that has you floating. Rosy and shiny, your heart beats at twice its normal speed.

There’s a lull in the conversation. It would’ve been a more comfortable silence, if you couldn’t see by how Wonwoo looks down and purses his lips, that he’s itching to say more. 

Sparked by his confession, you confidently snake your hand up to tap his cheek lazily. He turns to you with a loafy smile. “What is it?” 

He breathes out unsteadily.

“You’re-” he closes his eyes. “There’s so much I like about you. It- It makes me feel really bad that you weren’t feeling well, so I-” 

He cringes at himself, one hand pushing away his glasses to rub the eyes underneath them. 

“Can I make you feel better?” he asks vaguely. 

You huff out a laugh. “Are you trying to ask if I want to have sex?” 

He laughs too, behind his big hand. “No. It’s not the same, I want it to be about you!” 

You laugh more, and Wonwoo’s face reappears as he lowers his hand. He looks up at you adoringly, dotingly. He’s smiling.

“I’m being serious,” he says quietly, when you finish. He seems less embarrassed now, more so smug. “I want to make you feel good.” 

He’s paying an awful lot of attention to your hips, which he has not let up massaging and squeezing roughly. 

“Can I..?” he begins, eyes fixed on your hips in his lap. “Can I make you cum?” 

Then, slowly, Wonwoo lifts his hands and gently places them around on your face. His touch is always as soft as a hope-laced wind. He’s warm and he’s alive and he’s holding onto you, and you see it in his eyes: you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips. 

“Please.”

That’s all he needs, before he presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is everything you want it to be; because it’s loving. It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s gentle, there’s no tongue, just the soft, warm, real, alive flows of his lips against your own. His hands on both of your cheeks caress your cheekbones gently, and warm air is spilled in the small space between you. He pulls away, panting. 

“I don’t understand it,” he mumbles, before he’s pressing his lips back to yours hungrily. You let out a confused hum, and you have to gently push at his shoulder to back him off again. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“Why you were so alone,” he breathes, transfixed on your lips. “I want to be with you all the time.” 

Before you can respond, Wonwoo grips the underside of your thighs, lifting you and himself from the chair and placing you on the desk. You gasp at the impact when the glass table meets your bottom, and Wonwoo is standing over you, suddenly so tall and so broad, and slimming at the waist. His narrow eyes become hooded behind the reflection of his glasses. His head is tilted down to meet yours.

“Can I take off your clothes, pretty?” 

You don’t answer, only grip the edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head, so your bra-clad chest is exposed to him. He groans at the sight. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, nimble fingers dancing across your back to unclip the bra, sucking in a harsh breath the fabric becomes loose, sliding down your arms. “Such a pretty girl.” 

“Stop,” you whisper, face warm and red. Your heart has never beat this way. It’s utterly unbearable and addicting at the same time, it’s without rhythm or class, it’s wild. And it’s because he’s looking at you and it’s not just lust. It’s adoration. There are deeper strings to the make-up of his eyes, there are lines connected to his heart, and he’s all flushed.

“What?” he asks. “I’m just telling you the truth.” 

Wonwoo throws your bra on the floor next to him, hands finding the hem of your pants. “Can I take your pants off?” 

You nod, still so shy and abashed, because Wonwoo’s eyes feel like a pink spotlight, and you are bathed in its warmth. He unbuttons your pants and you gently slide off the table to work them off your legs. 

“Your panties are cute,” Wonwoo remarks (it should feel lewd, but he has a hand on your hip, that brushes the bone and he smiles at it). “Thank you,” you breathe, before you’re taking them off too.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to, but he still insists on gently lifting you back onto the table, and he kisses your nose when you’re sitting before him. He’s standing in between your legs, and then he’s looking down at where wetness drips onto the glass table. 

His hand slides down your stomach, resting on the fat of it. He’s smiling, he’s so gorgeous, because he’s smiling the most gentle smile at how wet you are and how it leaks onto the table and his hand is so warm on your stomach, doing nothing, yet turning you on even more than you’d ever been before.

He sighs like he’s carrying the greatest burden on his broad back. “You’re so pretty,” he says, almost exasperated by it. He pinches some of the fat of your stomach between his fingers lovingly. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.” 

Then the hand on your stomach slides down further. His large, veiny hand cups your pussy, the tips of his fingers just barely teasing your hole. You whimper against him, hands finding his biceps for support. Wonwoo studies you, craning his neck down to peer at your face, while his fingers begin swaddling your folds. 

“You’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles, trying to catch your eye where you bury into his chest. One finger dips into your hole, penetrating slowly and settling knuckle-deep. 

“Wonnie!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Mmm, clenching down on Wonnie’s finger so hard. My beautiful girl.” 

He begins pushing his finger in and out of you, pace slow and torturous. His other hand slides up and down your body, squeezing your waist then your thigh, then coming right back up to fondle your chest. He pushes your back flat against the glass, so you’re all splayed out for him and you watch him from there, eyes hooded and legs spread to accommodate him. He breathes in shakily at the sight of you. 

“Shit, Y/n. What were you doing hiding all this from me?” His finger picks up the pace, as another finger slips in alongside it. You’re moaning and panting, lips red and hair mussed, unable to focus on his words, when his fingers curl against that spongy spot inside you. Apparently Wonwoo expects an answer though, because he speaks again, voice lower and rougher. “Hm? You didn’t want to go have lunch? What, was it that guy?”

“W-What?” 

“Just some guy,” Wonwoo echoes your past words, emphasizing with a harsh thrust of his fingers. 

“N-No, I- Hng!” you cry out, when Wonwoo’s thumb presses onto your clit. He rubs it torturously. “I-I was embarrassed because I- I was thinking about you!” 

“Oh?” this catches Wonwoo’s attention, as he diligently works his hand within you, staring down at your naked form, fully clothed and tall. “Tell me what you were thinking about, baby.” 

“This!” you cry out, too high off the pleasure to really feel embarrassed about it.

“Pretty, sweet, dumb baby. You were thinking about you whimpering and writhing while I fuck you with my hand, hm?”

“N-No,” you mumble, cheeks aflame. “W-Was thinking about you l-liking me.” 

At this Wonwoo hastily leans over you, pressing his lips onto yours again, and this time his tongue pries open your mouth, wet and warm in the cavern of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, hips canting into his hand. There’s something so desperate about him then, something so eager in the way he crooks his fingers, and how he kisses you, panting and covering your face in warm air. You feel a tight knot in your stomach.

“Cum on my fingers, please, pretty, sweet, baby, darling,” he mumbles into your mouth, rushing out the words before he’s sealing your lips again. 

“God, I think I might fall in love with you.” 

That makes you cum. You cum so fucking hard, clenching around his fingers like an air-tight seal, and your cum spills onto his fingers and his name spills into his mouth. The curse comes out with it, escaping like the air that spills out from an ancient, rediscovered chamber, and dissipating into the night. Your heart is beating and you’re breathing into his mouth, nose brushing his. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, finally releasing your lips and letting his lips fall heavy and wet on your cheek. 

He pulls out his fingers, unbearably wet and slick, and you think for a second that he’ll let you calm down and then maybe he’ll put his dick in you, but as soon as the fingers are out of you, they’re settling back on to your clit, rubbing heavy-handed circles.

You whine, arching your back off the table and wiggling your hips at the overstimulation. His other hand catches your hip and he shushes your cries softly. 

“You can cum again, can’t you, baby? You can take it,” he says, so nonchalantly, while his slick fingers rub you. You cry out. Your legs are shaking. “Think you can cum again from just this?”

“Y-Yes,” you sigh and when you look down, his entire hand covers your pussy, as he pets your clit in circles. He smiles at your words, pinching your clit teasingly. It causes a squeak to escape you, hips struggling against his hold, where he pins you to the table.

“Good girl,” he praises, purring. “Letting me use your pretty pussy like this, letting me make you feel good.” 

His body in front of you prevents your legs from closing, but, God, do they try, knees pinching his thin waist, and hair bunching up on the glass when your face scrunches up in pleasure. 

“A-a-ah!” you cry out. Your hips involuntarily begin to inch away from him, but Wonwoo pulls you back with one strong hand, tutting. 

“Don’t do that,” he mutters, pouting. “You need to be touched, remember?” 

The whole thing is so heart-achingly intimate. The way he stands, still fully clothed and with a huge fucking tent in his pants, simply rubbing your pussy and looking at you with heart-eyes. Seriously, eyes swimming with adoration for you, teasing words slipping from his mouth unable to mask the genuine wonder he feels, at how you gasp and you arch and you clean and you jerk from the simplest of his movements. And your pussy is so warm and wet under his hand, and his body between your legs is so warm, and you cum again from just that; from how much love he looks at you with, and from the fingers crooking to pinch your clit again, wet and swollen underneath his glistening fingertips. 

“W-Wonwoo!” you cry out, cumming again, and your body convulses around his, when it oozes out of your hole. Wonwoo’s fingers gently work you through it. His gaze on you is so intent, so careful and insistent, you can’t bear it, the way he sees you totally lost in the pleasure he brings you. 

“There you go,” he whispers gently, fingers letting up and disappearing from your pulsating pussy. 

“Wonwoo,” you mewl tiredly, pushing yourself onto your elbows to look up at him. He looks at you, so sweetly, so attentively, hands immediately finding your back to stabilize you. “Can I please have your cock now?” 

“We don’t have to-” 

“I want to!” you interrupt him, brows furrowed and lips in a pout. Wonwoo grins at that and though he may deny it, you don’t miss the red that twinges his cheeks. 

“It’s just if you were too tired..-” 

“I’m not,” you say decidedly, and Wonwoo nods. 

“Okay. C’mere then.” 

You’re confused when Wonwoo sits back down in the office chair, fingers working his slacks open. He doesn’t answer to your grimace though, only manages his pants unzipped and in one lift of his hips, peel both them and his boxers down. 

His cock springs free, and your confused grimace is replaced with one of awe. It’s pale and veiny, the head is red and thin, white liquid oozes from it, like melted candle wax. And it’s huge.

You’re too slow to mask your amazement, it seems, because when your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, smiling smugly. 

“Come ride me, baby.” 

You don’t need to be told twice. You slide off the table eagerly, lumbering over to where he’s relaxed against the back of the chair. He looks up at you, all naked and pretty, with a grin. 

The top buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, but he must’ve given up halfway. Either way, the milky plates of his chest are exposed, shining gloriously in the warm office light, and he discards his glasses, face fully exposed to you. He’s beautiful, and you think to tell him.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, planting each leg around his, so you’re straddling him. Like your ritual, Wonwoo grips your middle and pulls you closer, but this time it’s even closer than normal. Your stomach meets his dick, all heavy and hot on your skin, and your breath hitches at the sensation. 

“You’re beautiful,” he teases, looking up at you. You smile. 

“Can I put it in?” you ask. 

“As if the answer was ever gonna be no?” 

You snort out a laugh, raising yourself by your thighs and gripping the base of his dick to steer him inside. He hisses at the feeling of your hand grappling with his impressive size, and he hisses once more when the head of his cock buries into your heat. 

His hands on your waist anchor himself while you slowly sink down, until he’s so fully sheathed in you, you think the tip of his cock must be brushing your heart, because it feels like it’s swinging in your chest. 

“You’re so big,” you whimper, clutching his broad shoulders, and scrunching the fabric on top of them. 

“Don’t say shit like that, I’m gonna cum, babe,” he grits out, fingers bruising your waist. You mewl, clutching his shirt. Then you begin to bounce. 

Your thighs flex on either side of him as you heave up and down his cock, the both of you gasping into each other, and clutching each other for stability. 

“Shit,” he pants out, genuinely out of breath. “Fuck, you’re the loveliest girl in the world.”

You cry out, pressure already welling in your stomach and burying yourself in his neck like you’ve always done, and it’s so intimate and he’s warm, and, fuck, he wants you. You can feel it in his grip, in his cock, in his words; he wants you more than anything. The thought makes you wanna cum. 

Wonwoo is not quiet at all. He grunts and whines and his words are strangled and garbled, but frequent, showering you in affection and praise, while you bounce eagerly on his huge cock. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” 

“Your tits are so perfect, shit.”

“Pretty girl.” 

“Loveliest, prettiest, sweetest girl, bouncing on my cock, fuck.”

Praises spill from his lips in purrs, one after another, and when you cum you can’t help but return it tenfold. 

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonnie, fuck! Gonna- fucking cum, I think I’m- f-falling in love with you”

You and Wonwoo come alive. Cum spurts from his cock and into your pussy, and you both cry out, entangled and completing one another in the space where you meet. 

And it’s true, falling in love with him is so easy. And falling in love with you is easy too, you realize, because the second he’s spilled his cum in you, he pulls you from his neck to kiss you so deeply, so thoroughly, you think your lips might never unpuff from his hasty, bitten kisses. 

His cock, now soft, still inside you, his warm chest against yours, his nose nudging yours, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the kiss is totally perfect, and you’re warm, and the windows are all closed and fogged up and there’s no curse other than the most fatal and most perfectly tantalizing of them all: love. 

You are not alone. You’re sitting in his lap and you think if you give it a day or two more, you might want to spend the rest of your life with him. 

You catch your breaths. 

“You’re really good at that,” you say finally. He grins again, perfectly undone, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. “Yeah?” he asks. You hum. 

After some minutes of keeping him inside you, kissing lazily, running your hands over his pretty chest and arms, you pull back, beginning to flex your legs to pull him out of you. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, hands wafting to still your movements. You furrow your brows, confused. 

“Am getting your dick out of me?” 

His hands sink down on your hips heavily, fully encompassing his dick again. You sigh at the feeling. 

“Don’t do that, silly. You’re touch-starved, remember?” 

He tilts his head teasingly. 

“So why don’t you just sit snug on my cock, so you can get all the closeness you need?”

[phant0mth1ef]

chapter 2: “again? really?”

“so are we going to address the elephant in the room or are we going to pretend like a popular streamer isn’t thirsting over bakugou?” kirishima’s voice was the first to break the air, his friends all silently eating around him.

midoriya was the first to put his fork down, grabbing his cloth as he wiped his mouth, a man of manners.

“i think it’s funny. even funnier how kacchan replied and never told us anything about this!” the man in question peeked one eye up as he leaned in to put his fork into his mouth, simultaneously side eyeing midoriya.

“i don’t know how he thought he’d be able to hide this from us!” kaminari and mina had exploded into laughter from their seats across the table, the duo adding onto their joke the moment they begun to come down from their high.

“tch. it’s not a big deal! all i did was reply to some tweet. i don’t get why you’re all acting like it’s so bad.” he dropped his fork back onto his plate as he grunted.

“here’s the thing, bakugou. we know it’s not a big deal. we as in those of us who are sitting around this table, but your fans are rabid. they’re going to think that you’re flirting with her.” todoroki spoke, the first time anybody had heard the man talk at all that night.

“i’ve seen someone with the username bakugoustoecrust before, shouto’s right.” mina stopped her laughter with denki, chiming in about what she’d seen on twitter one night while mindlessly scrolling.

the topic was dropped soon after, everyone returning to their meals as they ate in silence, an occasional quip coming out of kaminari as the sounds of people going about their usual day were heard.

the restaurant door dinged, signaling the arrival of two people just as the group was about to leave, your blonde friend quickly grinning at who he had just seen.

“what’re you so happy about?” you were currently working off a hangover from the previous night, it seems that everytime you’d go out with neito, you’d either leave with alcohol in your system, or you’d encounter the man you’d been making thrist posts about.

you were suddenly wide awake as you turned your head back to its normal position, seeing a man with blonde hair and bright red eyes staring at you, a scowl on his face.

your cheeks flushed, unable to hide your embarassment as neito begun to greet the group, forcing you to stand behind him while he greeted the group of famous pro’s.

you weren’t famous. you’d like to consider yourself as popular, but you’d never in a million years be able to put yourself out there to save people the way they do, so you sit and play video games in your room.

“hey there! you’re y/n, right?” the green haired man was in front of you in a flash, making you back up a little as his nose almost hit yours.

“yes, hello. it’s nice to meet you.” you smiled softly as you could see his eyes roaming around your body, it’s been runoured that he was really just an energetic person who liked to know things about people.

“what’s your quirk?? i’ve been dying to know.” he was such a bright presence, it was nearly impossible for you to pretend that you hadn’t heard him.

“oh! um, i can just, well it’s better if i show you.” you stepped aside, a small hole appearing in the floor as you were dropped into it, you’d reappeared on the other side of midoriya.

“just drop through the ground and reappear. but it really isn’t that great, my limit is about fifteen feet so i can’t move too far.” you sheepishly put a hand on the back of your neck, tilting it slightly.

“i think it’s a great quirk!” he left just as suddenly as he appeared, leaving you face to face with the number two pro hero, dynamight.

“tch.” oh he hated you. just great. he’s not going to like what had happened last night while you were intoxicated.

“well alright then! if you don’t mind, we’ll be going, this lunch won’t wait.” neito grabbed your arm, dragging you along with him as you stumbled before catching yourself.

“he hates me.” you murmured as you took your seat inside the booth that neito had led you to.

“just a bit! he’ll get over it.” the door jingled as the big group exited, but a pair of vermillion eyes never left your figure, at least not until you were out of sight.

that action didn’t go unnoticed by his friends.

tags! : @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @pixiesluver

ignore how the timestamp says 8 am, this is supposed to be the tweet from when you were drunk lol

[mbsneur]

Risky

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: you and alexia have sex in a cabin

Warnings: Smut 18+,public sex

My Masterlist

please read this text before going to the story don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33

You dragged your girlfriend Alexia shopping with you again she hates going shopping with you because it can take forever

she walks through the aisles of the shop moaning and looking for you

"ale i'm here" you call and waving to her as she looks over the clothes racks and comes over to you shaking her head

"amor how do you like this" you smile and hold a white and black mini dress up to her face her eyes start to sparkle "will you try it on for me?" she smiles mischievously and you press your head into your neck and roll your eyes

"yes but only if you stop being so annoyed" she comes closer to you and places a firm kiss on your forehead "try it on then i'll think about it" she smiles and pulls you towards the changing rooms

you changed your clothes and slipped into the white dress first you opened the curtain and alexia stood in front of you with her arms crossed her eyes travelled over your whole body her arm stretched to reach your hips "turn around" she smiled and put her thumb on her lower lip

"it looks so good on you" her eyes widen and her hands slide further towards your but

you playfully swat her hand away and click your tongue alexia smiles cheekily at you and pushes you forwards to put on the other dress

you go back into the changing room and have knowingly left a small slit in the curtain open you pull the dress over your head and see alexia's gaze through the mirror

she tries to look away and clenches her hands into fists and her teeth clench tightly as you put on the black dress you wanted to go out

but when you put one foot forward alexia immediately pounces on you and holds you firmly by your hips with a hard bounce she pushes you against the wall and she fumbles the curtain closed with her hand

her lips are immediately on your neck and are so rough it almost hurts your mouth opens and all you can get out is heavy breathing

"how dare you tease me like that" she whispers against your skin and comes face to face you stutter "ale- i didn't mean to tease you" you say ironically and dig your fingernails into her shoulders

she pushes you by your hips on the bench and without leaving your eyes she kneels down in front of you she puts the dress over your arse and brings your dripping middle to light "you will be quiet otherwise you will see what you get out of it at home"

she pulls your underwear down your knees and her face immediately finds its way to your inner thighs one of your hands put immediately lies on your mouth

she kisses your thighs and puts one of your legs over her shoulder she kisses the way to your core and spreads little kisses on it

your body jerks with the movement and slides further against her face her hand takes one of your breasts in her hand and kneads it your head hits the wall and little whimpers come out of your throat that you try to suppress

she licks big circles on your clit and makes you bounce she moans about your taste and takes your nipple between her fingers your eyes roll into the back of your head and your whimpering gets louder

your hand presses harder against your mouth and her eyes meet yours her tongue moves to your hole and plunges it in with small gentle thrusts her nose hits your clitoris

alexia is crazy with her tongue it is one of her passions to taste you no matter how

"just like that- ale- please" you try to say and she quickens her tongue and starts to move against your temple and she pushes it apart again

your chest rises up and down quickly and your other hand finds its way to alexia's hair and you push her deeper into you

your belly tenses up and bounces vigorously against her someone could come in at any moment and this fact turns you on even more

alexia doesn't stop playing inside you and shoots her tongue against your walls to make you realise that you should come "ale give me a little more please you feel so good" she rolls her eyes again and continues her work

after a few more thrusts you were ready your legs shake uncontrollably and you come hard on alexia's tongue you try to relax into her and she licks little circles around you to calm you down

she removes her face and you look at her in a daze her mouth is full of your juices she takes the collar of her shirt and wipes her mouth on it

she moves up and pulls you onto your wobbly legs she brings your dress into the right position and gives you a kiss on the cheek "change your clothes i want to go home vamos" she says with a mischievous smile

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

I'm craving for your writing, please spare me a crumb 🛐

ATEEZ favorite positions maybe?

ATEEZ favorite positions

❥ATEEZ (separately) x afab reader

➯a/n: i'm deep deeeeeeeep in the depths of writers block and trying to claw my way out like the feral writing gremlin i know i am- but i have no idea if this is any good, please forgive me for the atrociously long wait. happy valentines ! 💌💕

♡´･ᴗ･`♡▼・ᴥ・▼genre: smut, bullet point style, drabbles

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: eldest to youngest, unprotected(booooo), so much romance im a sucker, soft & rough sex, head(giving and receiving), dacryphilia, overstimulation, possessiveness, brat taming in the form of dumbification, strength kink, restraint, switching holes (LMAO?), forehead touches!!!!!!!! not proof read :(

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

彡★PARK SEONGHWA - lotus

he's a hopeless romantic, and it definitely shows through his favorite positions

he's seated on the edge of the bed, or couch, or chair, even seated on the floor-

and youre seated in his lap like it's your throne

your legs wrapped around his moving hips, arms around his neck and hands tangled up in his hair

it's his favorite position for many reasons

the angle of his hips which makes his cock tease the deepest parts of you

your heavy breaths falling right onto his lips, breathing the same air during such a passionate act

and the way he can see your eyes well up with pleasure with every little thrust until you come undone right infront of him

Seonghwa can see every little twitch of your face as he rests his forehead against yours, his hips had set an unrelenting slow and loving pace long ago and have yet to stop. His tip drags along your g-spot every time he pulls out, and you almost want to beg him to just stay buried deep because of the maddening slow building pleasure. Any attempt to speak on either of your parts only comes out as a puff of hot air into the others mouth. It isn't the first time you've done it in this position, but the intimacy of it completely blankets you every time. You can't feel anything other than each other, and it's pure euphoria.

彡★KIM HONGJOONG - cuddle fuck

it's not that it's his favorite persay, it's just the one that happens the most

people say this man hates affection, they couldn't be any more wrong

he loves to be close to you !

after a busy schedule and tiring day, all he wants to do is cuddle

but your body is so soft and warm pressed against his, he feels so safe and comfortable

he won't say anything at first, either because he's too embarrassed or too tired so it usually goes like this:

Hongjoong has his arms wrapped around you- one cradling you to his chest warmly as the other traces his racing thoughts on your lower back. One of your legs is hooked over his hip, the other tangled between his. You kiss over his tattoo with all of the care in the world and that's when the feeling in his lower belly stirs to life. As you go on about mundane things, like what you should cook the both of you for dinner, it only gets hotter and tighter. Your skin is searing against his in the most pleasant and simultaneously daunting ways. The way you bite your lip tells him you finally feel it, that hardness pressing against your thin house-shorts. You push aside the other topic at hand and move both of your shorts away, wordlessly slipping him inside of you. You're so close, you may as well be one soul. And that's just the way he likes it.

彡★JEONG YUNHO - v

yunho is TALL.

no matter what position you're in, innocent cuddling or sinful fucking or walking down the street-

he shadows over you like a demon

the softest demon ever but still

he's huge and it drives him over the edge when he can see and feel the difference compared to you

so when you've got your legs stretching up as far as they can go and they barely reach over his shoulders????

whew baby prepare your cervix to be bruised

It started as a simple mating press, Yunho' s cock begging him to just fill you as far as possible without breaking you. But when he sat up, your legs followed; no longer being pinned by his chest. You laid them flat against his sweaty chest and arched your back, breaking his mind in an overwhelming horniness as he felt your toes curl just on his shoulder blades when you came. Oh, he'll be damned if he stopped there. He went on for hours, he had never been so hard. He wanted to cum so badly, but at the same time, he never wanted to move away from the ethereal image of you below him like that. When he finally did (and hello wow that was so much cum it literally came splatting out between you) he made a mental note to most definitely get you worked up again tomorrow.

彡★KANG YEOSANG - mating press

this man's beauty and personality is so soft and silky

don't let that shit fool you breh

he is a beast in the bedroom, he goes feral when you're behind a locked door together

there's something about you that just makes him want to overtake your entire being and become one with you

something that makes him want you to break- break just for him

he loves every fiber of your being and he's possessive over you like no fucking other

because of his career, he's not allowed to show that publicly, and he more than makes up for his need to express his dominating feelings for you by-

well, by dominating you

Your thighs are crushed to your chest, feet dangling in the air and bouncing with every rough thrust of Yeosang 's skilled hips. If there was a time that this position was uncomfortable, that time is long gone. All of his deep, quick thrusts wipe away anything in your mind other than him, and the glazed over look in your eyes only makes him go harder. His eyes nearly roll into his skull every time he feels you clench around him, your cunt completely at his mercy. You're ripe for the picking. Laid out for him helplessly, stuck in position by his rough and loving hands on the back of your sore thighs. Completely weak beneath him as he fucks you like it's the last thing he'll ever do on this mortal earth, and you simply let him because you love him. And he absolutely revels in it.

彡★CHOI SAN - against the wall

"sannie bulked up after wooyoung chest bumped him across stage!!"

erm no

sannie bulked up when he saw you watching an against the wall video!!

his brain immediately fried at the idea of doing that to you and now here we are a few years later

he prides himself in how strong he's gotten, how muscular he is

it's an ego boost really, and a deserved one

he loves bending you into whichever position he wants to just because he can

but this will always be his personal favorite

San has his arms wrapped around the underside of your knees, pining them to the wall and effectively folding you in half while he demolishes your holes. All of his praise falling to deaf ears as your head spins with a dizzying pleasure. He lets your forehead fall on his, breathing in your fucked out groans as his thrusts slam your hips and lower back into the wall. You lost it and started cumming the second he man handled you and lifted you with his cock still inside, and now it's his turn for that blinding white pleasure as you grab his big, flexing biceps and drool as you clench around him.

彡★SONG MINGI - 69

song mingi sloppy toppy champion and i don't take criticism on this sorry

he enjoys eating pussy or sucking dick over sex most days, like his soul purpose is to make his significant other feel on cloud 9 (get it they're the 9 and he's the 6 haha okay-)

and when he's balls deep he can't help but go full sub mode and hump like a wild animal searching for primal release

so- head it is

but you want him to feel good too, obviously

and despite his reassurances that making you feel good in turn makes him feel good, you just can't help it

so, a mutual position is found: one were he gets to have his tongue on you, in you, all over you-

and you get to make him an even whinier mess than usual

It turns Mingi on so badly when he gets to taste you, you barely have to touch him. His tongue is deep inside you, hands kneading your ass as he makes a mess of his favorite meal. Hes so lost in the pleasure of giving that he doesn't even realize you've got his cock stuffed in your throat until he cums into the warmth of it. He's always a whiny mess between your legs, and this new position quickly becomes both of your favorites when you continue to tease him through and past his release, and he continues to slurp up the ever flowing arousal that comes from the pleasure of making him cum. It's a never ending cycle really, and neither of you dare complain.

彡★JUNG WOOYOUNG - spooning

now i would say reverse cowgirl because he's obviously an ass man- but that's his second choice

y'all seen that video of him getting all up on yunho on stage from behind ??

yeah that's why i chose this and because it's infecting my brain

something about it just makes him even more feral than usual

everything about it tbh-

let me just *licks pen*

His leg wrapped over your hip and around yours like an anaconda, using his leverage to spread your legs as you're both laid sideways, giving him all the access he could ever want. And boy does Wooyoung take advantage of it, holding you in place with his arms wrapped under your armpits and holding your shoulders tightly so you can't escape the burning heat of his body against yours while he fucks you to the next millennium. In your ass, it's slow and deep, a beautiful painful stretch. In your pussy, fast and shallow and hard, banging your g-spot until you sob. He can feel your ribs wracking with sobs of overwhelming pleasure, and he doesn't stop until you've made a mess of him just as he did you.

彡★CHOI JONGHO - prone bone

big cock!!!!!

there i said it, it had to be done

it took ages and ages to get used to his absolute girth

and even now that you're used to it it still stretches you out and shuts your brain off to put all of your willpower into your cunt so you don't break in half

and he can't help it as his mind begs him to take advantage of that fact when you're being a brat

he knows you turn into a cock whore the minute he stretches you out

and he plans to make use of that fact

Jongho is still so sweet and gentle when punishing you. He doesn't have to be rough, his veiny girth does the job naturally. Usually he'll spread you out nice and wide- not today. Not when you're a brat. He lays you face down and ties your legs together. He can barely shove his member between your pushed together thighs to get inside of you but when he does. It's like the tightest and warmest fleshlight in the world, and it's attached to the person he loves. He will make you forget your own name, just with his goliath friend and slow passionate thrusts.

[miley1442111]

Heyyyy are you still requests?? If yes..................

Last night i relived a painful memory when a loved person told me to shut up in front of our friend group and it was so humiliating and overwhelming, i went dead silent for the rest of the month but still played cool with everyone and everyone knew i was destroyed, wasnt leaving home that much yet and the person who told me to shut up was going trough some shit (ON THAT DAY) and actually never apologized...

SO SORRY FOR THE VENT BUT IT WAS NECESSARY FOR THE PLOT I SWEAR.

What if the reader is the one being told to shut up by none other than RAFE CAMERON who is a very close friend and he told the reader to shut up out loud in the middle of a party in front of your friend group (Kelce and Topper) and the reader also play it cool but it collapse at themself like a dying star and all their light is sucked by the black hole it became. But unlike real life, Rafe doesnt need people telling him he fucked up and he felt terrible and a few weeks later he sees reader on a party, unusually quiet, being dragged by their friends around trying to cheer reader up and the reader still trying to play it cool but the damage was showing and maybe Rafe take the chance to approach you but he doesnt know what to say or what to do so he acts like nothing happened?? IM SORRY THIS IS SO CONFUNSING I JUST WOKE UP AND I HAD TO WRITE THAT BEFORE THE MEMORY FADED. Sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, just ignore it if you didn like ittt!! I love your writting btw i'll never forget that one ask i did and you answered about Rafe choosing between reader and a lover!!!!

and ask 2:

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talking too much- r.cameron

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a/n: HELLO to the both of you! thank you two so much for requesting, and very sorry that this happened to you :( I'd let you talk my ear off about anything any time :) (ps, great song choice)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

summary: i suggest you look at the requests

warnings: reader kind of loses her spark, rafe is a confused and stressed asshole, reader becomes very insecure, feelings of not being good enough, rafe gets very stressed at the end (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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It was finally nearing the end of June and you were planning your 4th of July party with your friends. Topper, Kelce, Rafe, you, Sarah, and a few of your other friends sat around the table, thinking up ideas for what parties to drop into, and what you were going to wear, etc. You were excited, that was no crime. You’d always been the most excitable in the group, it was just part of your bubbly personality, there was no issue with it. No one had ever been more than a little irritated with it before, no big deal. You’d just apologise and remember to tone it down for those people, but your closest friends weren’t those people. Your closest friends liked your personality, your closest friends liked you. It didn’t matter how loud you were. 

“And then I guess we’ll-”

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Rafe cursed.

The room went silent. You stood still, frozen as people’s eyes turned to you. Sarah offered a look of sympathy, she knew how much you valued Rafe’s opinion, especially since you had a slight crush on him. You felt yourself recoil. How could he be so rude? All you were doing was giving ideas to the group, it’s not like anyone else was trying to speak much, and Rafe definitely wasn’t adding to the conversation. At least, he hadn’t been for the past hour, just sitting in the corner with his leg bouncing and that stupid vein protruding from his stupid neck. You slumped back in your chair, embarrassment filling your mind as you thought over every other interaction with him and the group. Were you annoying? Did they all actually hate you? 

“I don’t hear you talking much Rafe,” Sarah shot back. “Something to say?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Fuck off Sarah,” he scoffed and waited for you to bounce back and start speaking again. You didn’t. He looked up as the group started speaking again, going off of all the plans you’d started. You were just sitting there, on your phone. 

You just waited until someone actually asked you a question to give your input, and even then all you said was; “Sounds good.”

He’d fucked up. Big time. 

------------------

It had been a week since ‘the incident’, and Rafe hadn’t seen you. He felt awful, absolutely disgraced after what he’d said. He was stressed, it was a bad moment, and he took it out on you. He was sorry. But how was he supposed to tell you that? How was he supposed to explain how sorry he was, explain that he was just stressed? How would you believe him? You two had never been the closest in the friend group, not to say you two didn’t speak, but you two weren’t exactly attached at the hip like you were with Sarah, or Kelce. All you’d ever been to him was nice, not something he was sure he deserved, but he appreciated it all the same. 

How could he get back to that?

------------------

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Sarah begged over the phone. 

“I’m tired, I was working all day-”

“Come on, you’ve been dodging all week! 4th of July is coming up, I don’t want to hang out with Kelce and Top without you,” she whined, 

“I’ll be there for the 4th, I’m just busy right now,” you sighed. “I promise I’m ok,” you lied. 

“If you’re staying home because of what Rafe said, I’ll kill him,” she swore. 

“I don’t give a shit about what Rafe said,” lie. “I’m just busy, promise.”

Sarah sighed. “Alright, see you on the 4th!”

And with that, you hung up. The last week had been one long pity-party that made you feel even worse about yourself, deciding that your friends were better off without you, especially when you can’t even bounce back from one tiny insignificant comment from one random guy. That’s what you thought anyway. But now, you had 3 days before the 4th, and you weren’t sure how you were going to get the courage to face any of them. 

Not that they hadn’t reached out. Everyone who was there (aside from Rafe) had called or texted to ask if you were ok, and apologised for not saying anything. Kelce had felt the worst, since he was supposed to be your best friend, and he hadn’t said anything. You brushed them off, promising them it was fine, promising them you were fine. They barely believed you, but you somehow convinced them that you were busy. You told half of them that you were packing for your move, and the other half that you had gotten a job at your mom’s company. I mean, technically you were a few weeks out from moving away and you should be packing, and technically you did just get a job at your moms’ company (managing the online presence and doing admin work), but really both those jobs were easy. You could’ve done them for a few hours, then seen your friends. But you didn't want to. You didn’t want to feel like a burden. 

------------------

The day of the 4th rolled around and Sarah picked you up with all the girls in the group in her car. You looked gorgeous in your short red dress, at least that’s what Sarah told you. You kept your mouth shut as the girls gossiped and sang along to songs, only interjecting when truly necessary. When you got to the beach, you managed to break away from the girls and get a drink, standing alone as you watched the night go by. You liked people watching, you found it interesting to see the small micro-expressions on peoples faces, the snippets of their conversations, and everything in between. 

“Hi,” Rafe smiled softly. He was in front of you, blocking your view of the people you were looking at. 

“Hi,” you answered meekly. 

He stood there for a moment as you tried to look over his shoulder, but the group were gone. You sighed in defeat and turned around to pour yourself another drink. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

“Fine thanks,” you answered. “You?”

“Good, fine… yeah,” the awkwardness in his voice almost made you physically cringe. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“It’s been like a week?” you questioned. In the past week, Rafe had realised how much he missed you, and how much you added to the group. He missed how you brightened up everyone, how you kept the peace by being close with almost everyone, how you made him laugh. 

“What have you been up to?” He scratched the back of his neck, his nerves almost getting the better of him, almost making him turn around and not do this. Almost.

“Not much. Working, packing, usual stuff,” you shrugged. 

Rafe’s expression faltered. “Packing?”

“I’m moving in a few weeks,” you explained. “So you won't see me for a while.”

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. 

Absolutely not. 

Rafe felt his stomach sink. “Why?”

“‘Why’ what Rafe?” you asked, genuinely confused. Why, out of all people, would he care?

“Where?”

“Just main-land, but a bit further into the city so I’m moving schools,” you shrugged.

“But it’s our senior year?”

“Yeah? And?”

“We all said we’d do it together, remember?”

“It wasn’t my choice to move,” you scoffed. “And also, why are you acting like this is new information? Tonight is my ‘last hurrah’ get-together. We’re doing the stupid sleepover.”

“W-what?”

“We didn’t invite you,” Sarah butted in. “You were a dick, now you reap the consequences.”

You rolled your eyes at the shocked look on Rafe’s face. “Night Rafe, see you around.”

Rafe stood frozen as you walked away, shocked. Had he really not been listening for so long? Had he really missed that? You were moving, you were gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[salfishersface]

Omg I love your writing!! I love all of it so much! Is it okay if you can write a story of sal and fem reader having a argument on her birthday. And afterwards he apologizes and they have a nice night~❤️🥺

I hope you have a nice day and lmk if there's any other way to support!!

Birthday || Sal Fisher

Synopsis - You invite Travis to your birthday party and Sal gets a little jealous.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Characters are aged 18+!

Word Count - 1.6k.

{Caffeinate Me}

You had decided to throw a party to celebrate your birthday and had invited all your friends from Larry to Ash, from Todd, to Neil and others that you had grown to love since high school. But it wouldn’t be a party without your loving boyfriend, Sal. 

You were currently standing in the living room, conversing with some of your guests. Sal’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him as he watched you sip the alcohol drink in your hand when suddenly the doorbell rang. “Expecting some more guests?” Sal asked, looking around to see who was there. 

“Just one more,” you said sheepishly, pulling away from his grasp and heading towards the door. You slowly opened the door to reveal Travis Phelps. He stood there playing with his hands, clearly uncomfortable and confused as to why you had even invited him. Your boyfriend watched from afar as the blonde entered your home, jealousy and rage bubbling in his gut as you hugged the man. “Make yourself at home,” you smiled at Travis, walking over to the dining room table and passing him an alcoholic beverage. “Don’t worry so much, if I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here.” 

Sal’s eyebrows narrowed under his prosthetic. Why would you even invite Travis of all people? He made your high school life miserable! Not to mention the jealousy he was feeling about your hands on another man. When you made your way back over to Sal, he grabbed your arm and dragged you upstairs to your room, slamming the door behind the two of you. “What is he doing here?” Sal snapped, running a hand through his blue hair. 

“Who?” You asked, pretending to be ignorant. 

“You know who,” Sal replied, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“Travis?” You asked. Sal just nodded. “I felt sorry for him. I wanted to invite him so he knew that I didn’t hate him for what he put me through in high school.” 

Sal was pacing back and forth, clearly distressed. “And you hug him… Like that?” 

Your eyes widened at Sal’s words and you realised quickly that he was jealous. “You’re seriously jealous of Travis Phelps?” 

“No,” Sal mumbled, kicking his feet on the floor. “Why would I be jealous of him?” 

“I don’t know Sal, why would you be jealous of him?” You asked. 

“I’m not jealous,” Sal grumbled, looking down at you through the eye-holes in his prosthetic. “Just don’t want my girl touching him like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like that,” he hissed. 

“You’re not making any sense Sally.” 

Sal walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders roughly, gazing into your eyes. “I don’t want him here. I don’t want him anywhere near you.” 

You rolled your eyes and lolled your head back to look at the ceiling, a growl emitting from your throat.  “I’m not sending him home, Sal.”

“Yes. You. Are.” 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” you hissed, shrugging his hands off of your shoulders. 

Sal surprised you by taking off his prosthetic roughly and letting it fall onto your bedroom floor. His blue eyes narrowed at you and his scarred lips turned into a frown. “I’ll tell you exactly what to do,” he growled. 

“No you will not,” you said, voice stern. 

“Get on the bed,” Sal snapped, pointing to your bed. 

“Or what?” 

“Or I’ll make you.” With your cheekiness, Sal pushed you onto the bed, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed heavily. “If you’re not going to send him home, I’ll make you scream so loud that everyone gets the message and leaves.” 

Anticipation filled your body and a familiar sensation settled between your legs. You shouldn’t have been getting aroused at his threats, but you couldn’t help it. The thought of everyone hearing you scream Sal’s name had you dripping. The possibilities were endless. “I think you’re too scared,” you tease, a grin on your lips. All thoughts of your silly little argument had left your head. 

His nose bumped against your own and he grinned. “Oh. You think so?” Sal trailed a hand down your body, tucking it into your underwear and slicking his index finger up your slit. “You’re so wet for me already baby,” he hummed in approval. 

“Just the thought of everyone hearing me scream your name,” you mumble, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “It does something to me.”

“Oh?” Sal asked with a raised eyebrow, his index finger teasing your tight hole. “Is that so?” 

You nodded shyly and hummed, your eyes fluttering closed as Sal slowly inched his index finger inside of you. “Oh God,” you whimpered. 

“Oh pretty baby,” Sal cooed as he bent his head down to catch your neck in a wet kiss. “You’re so fucking tight.” You whimpered again in response as Sal slowly began to move his finger in and out of you, his thumb bumping against your clit with each movement he made. With a few more thrusts, Sal was inserting his middle finger into your tight cunt, stretching you out even more. 

“S-Sal,” you croaked. 

“That’s right baby, say my name,” he growled as he continued to plunge his fingers inside of you. Your hands flew to the bedsheets, gripping them tightly as you felt your orgasm approaching already. Sal must have felt your pussy clench around his fingers as he chuckled lightly and bit down on your neck causing you to moan. “Feel good baby girl?”

“Y-Yes!” You cried out, eyes rolling back into your head. “Sally. I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that!” 

“Cum for me precious,” he cooed, kissing your neck once more and biting just enough to leave a large purple mark that would be visible for days to come. On his command, you felt yourself cumming over his fingers, spraying your underwear that you were still wearing with your juices. Sal grinned and chuckled, admiring the way you squirted at just his fingers alone. “Such a good girl baby. So good for me.” 

“I-I am so good for you Sal so please,” you begged. “Please fuck me.”  

“I’ll fuck you nice and good baby, I promise,” Sal whispered as he quickly unbuttoned his jeans and freeing his cock from his boxers. He was already erect, cock leaking milky pre-cum as he pumped himself vigorously. “Undress yourself,” Sal commanded, watching as you slowly moved to tug down your trousers and soaked panties. He let out a shaky breath as he watched you, biting his bottom lip as he continued to jerk himself off. When your trousers and underwear were off, and in a heap on the floor, Sal immediately jumped on top of you, pressing you down against the mattress as he slicked his cock up your folds. “Stay still baby, this won’t hurt. I promise.” And like that, he slammed into you. You let out a scream of pleasure, eyes widening as he stretched you out good and proper. Tears filled your eyes as Sal began to move against you, giving you no time to adjust to his large length. 

“Sally!” You cried out, back arching slightly off the bed. 

“That’s right, let everyone know who you belong to,” Sal smirked as he thrusted against yours rigorously. His thrusts were relentless, every ounce of jealousy he had felt previously was leaving his body now that he was inside of you.

“Please please please!” You cried out, almost screaming. You bit your bottom lip, suddenly conscious of the noises you were making and Sal just chuckled.  

“Don’t be shy baby,” he whispered, nipping at your collarbone. “Let everyone know, including Travis, that you’re mine.” Sal’s sudden possessiveness sent a shiver down your spine and had you writhing beneath him. “Stay still,” he huffed, slamming against you. 

“Feels too good,” you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut and throwing your head back against the mattress. You felt your second orgasm approaching and your fingers flew to your clit, immediately rubbing circles on your sensitive nub. 

“I feel you clenching around me,” Sal gasped out, hips still smashing against yours. He was a groaning, moaning mess as he continued his pace. His balls smashed against your arse rapidly with each thrust. “Oh God Y/N, yes!” He whispered against your neck. 

“Sal, I’m gonna cum again!” You cried out gleefully, giggling slightly as your orgasm washed over you. Your legs shook violently around Sal’s hips and he stuttered as you contracted around him. 

“Fuck Y/N, I’m cumming baby, I’m cumming,” Sal repeated over and over again as he thrusted deep into you one last time, pumping rope after rope inside of you. 

“Fuck!” You shouted out, wrapping your arms around Sal’s torso and pulling him closer to you. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you as he continued to spill himself into your womb, moaning your name over and over again. 

After a few seconds of sloppy thrusting, Sal’s hips came to a halt and his entire body shivered with pleasure. “Holy shit,” he whispered, laughing slightly. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too, Sal,” you smiled as he pressed his lips to yours softly in an all-encompassing kiss. 

“Do you think anyone is still downstairs?”

“The music is pretty loud,” you replied with a shrug. 

“Yeah, but so were you,” Sal poked at you jokingly. 

You rolled your eyes and a light blush covered your cheeks. “Shut up,” you mumbled, burying your face in the sheets next to you. 

“It was hot,” Sal tried to comfort you, but you didn’t believe him. 

“We should head back downstairs,” you say, pushing Sal off of your body and sitting up to grab your trousers and underwear off the floor. 

“Yeah we should, people are probably missing the birthday girl,” Sal cooed, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he dressed his bottom half and picked his prosthetic up off the floor, placing it gently back on his face. “Y/N, I seriously love you. With all my heart.” 

“I love you too, Sally Face.” 

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝚄𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚑𝚊 𝙸𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒 - 𝚂𝚎𝚡 𝙴𝚍

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

ft Uchiha Sasuke + other spectators(Uchiha Council; just slightly more in the bg); ft Demonstration, fingering, nipple play, creampie

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Naruto or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 3,041

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes stepbrother/stepsister pseudo incest (x2, technically since Sasuke is only watching), and underage(15, 17), Use of “Onii-chan” and “Nii-san”, Use of Y/n, 3rd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: Obviously, this one takes place in an AU where the Uchiha Massacre didn’t happen lol,,, Imma be honest, I’m not super happy with this one ;-; I’m sorry if you’re one of the people who’s been waiting for this one specifically and also aren’t super satisfied with it. I legit such bad writer’s block with this one,, like,, not even halfway through,, but I eventually got a second wind! The ending isn’t quite my favourite but it’s the best I could come up with when more writer’s block started creeping up on me ;-; Please don’t hate me, lovelies ;-;

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

“Sasuke, are you watching me?” Itachi asked his little brother, their stepsister pressed into his chest with his arms around her waist, both reaching down between her legs. The eldest Uchiha son used one hand to hold her leg open, his other one slowly stroking over her folds. He got a vacant nod from the second son as his eyes stayed glued to his little stepsister’s cunt.

She trembled in his hold at his fingers lightly dipping into her entrance each time they pass over it in their strokes. She whined at Itachi for not giving her what she needed which only made him chuckle.

“Don’t be so impatient, princess, Sasuke needs to learn how to properly take care of a woman. You want to help your Onii-chans, don’t you?” She whined but nodded anyways and did her best to stay more still for her Nii-san. He decided to reward her good behavior and he finally dipped his fingers fully into her fluttering hole.

She cried out in relieved pleasure and did her best to contain her back arching against her Nii-san. Smirking at her obedience, Itachi moved his finger in and out of her slowly, but just enough to keep her sated.

“This whole thing is her Vulva,” Itachi slid his fingers out of her and slowly dragged his fingers through her folds to spread her until his hand framed her spread-out pussy. Sasuke didn’t seem fully engrossed in what his older brother was actually saying but he sure as hell was paying full attention to the visuals. Even so, he nodded in acknowledgment, urging his brother to continue.

“These,” he moved his fingers to stroke his fore and middle fingers over her outer lips, “are her Labia Majora.” She quivered at her Nii-san’s touch and mewled pathetically. “Her Labia Minora.” He moved to slide through her inner lips before he spread her open once again. This time, though, he moved his other hand up her thigh to join it. “This is her Vagina, well the opening anyway.” He shrugged lazily as his fingers deftly gathered her slick as he circled her entrance teasingly.

“It’s where we go in.” He prodded her pussy hole slowly. “Where we slide out.” He dragged his finger out, torturously slow. “And repeat.” He did just as stated and moved his hand back and forth to slowly fuck her on his single digit before he slid out. With her slick coating his fingers, he slid them up her still-spread cunny to his next target.

“This is the Clitoral Hood.” He teased at the loose skin and shifted it back and forth, making it harder and harder to stay still but she did her best. Y/n did her best just for her Onii-chans. “It covers her Clitoris until she’s aroused.” He pulled the hood back fully with his index finger and circled her little clitty with loose slow circles and made her jolt and moan lewdly against him. That earned her a light slap to her clit which got a sharp jolt and yelp and made her go rigid, a silent demand to obey him. He continued his ministrations after he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and soothing strokes around her cunny.

“This is her Clit.” Her Nii-san said, looking back to Sasuke to make sure he understood. His eyes were blown wide and his hand was just itching to reach for his bulge straining in his pants. His eyes flicked to her face at her whimpering and small mewls.

“Now that you know what’s what. Time to show you what to do with it.” Itachi spoke teasingly, shifting his hold on his little Stepsister to move her to a laying position. Initially, she whined at the loss but soon enough when he slotted himself between her legs she was happy enough once again. “Make sure you watch closely, Sasuke,” Itachi instructed his brother who nodded eagerly, excited to watch his elder brother ruin his little stepsister.

“‘tachi.. Please…” Y/n whined, circling her hips against nothing as Itachi had yet to meet her hips.

“Patience, Imouto-chan, I need to teach Sasuke to please a woman. Don’t you want to make sure he can please a woman? Please you?” He asked, a brow quirked with sensually low lids. She nodded when she realized she wouldn’t be able to say anything lest it came out as a needy whine. “Good girl.” He smiled, running his hands delicately down her body, brushing the bottoms of her breasts until he stroked the front of her hips.

He moved his hands to his own hips and shimmied out of his pants, the position the only thing making it slightly harder. He managed to remove his pants and slotted himself further up between her thighs, his hips then flush against her ass. His cock stood firm and tall and resting against her cunny. She lowly moaned at the contact and barely resisted the urge to grind against him to finally get the friction she craved from her Nii-san’s cock.

Itachi chuckled when he saw how close she was to giving in to her urge and stroked his thumb over her hip in comforting praise. Glancing over, he saw that Sasuke was just as enamored as he’d hoped and took that as his cue to begin. Y/n released a high-pitched, drawn-out moan as her Nii-san dragged his dick across her folds, slicking up the underside of it. The eldest Uchiha son suppressed a groan at the feeling of her soft, dripping pussy against his cock and continued on. He rocked his hips against hers until he was properly lathered in her slick.

He pulled back until his tip was stationed right at her entrance where he lingered until his little stepsister whined and wiggled her hips. With a possessive noise from the back of his throat, he leaned forward, pushing his cock inside as he leaned over her, pinning her wrists to the tatami mats. He shivered as he kept in a satisfied, territorial groan as he looked into her eyes.

“Fuuhh- ‘tachi.. Nii-san… Please..” She begged with hazy eyes looking back at his own. He couldn’t resist any longer and pulled his hips back to push back in, fast enough to sate them both but slowly enough to make sure Sasuke could see. Itachi glanced at the younger boy again and smirked when he saw he had pulled his cock out and began to pump himself. Looked past him, he looked to the council to make sure they approved. Fugaku nodded at his son for the rest of the council and it was enough to spur him on.

He grinned with satisfaction and turned his attention back to his stepsister who was writhing and moaning beneath him. Itachi leaned down to capture her lips in a heated, sloppy kiss and he slid his hands down her arms to her chest. He groped her tits and thumbed at her nipples and he mewled loudly into the kiss. With a firm squeeze, he parted from her, both his lips and his hands as he sat back and moved his grip back to her waist.

“Sasuke,” Itachi called to the boy.

“Yes?” He strained but brought his attention to his brother.

“There are multiple ways to please a woman. There are multiple ways to please her with sex as well.” He looked over to his brother and he saw the boy’s eyes wide in interest.

“Really?”

“Yes, one such way is with different positions. Each position provides different stimuli. In each, you can add onto it in different ways. Like here,” Itachi stated, turning his gaze back to the girl beneath him, “I can play with her breasts and her nipples like this.” He did just as stated and grabbed her tits again, squeezing them and squishing them, and he toyed with her nipples and made her moan out in ecstasy. His hips never faltered their movements in his demonstration.

Sasuke watched on in wonderment and watched his big brother’s cock disappear inside of his little stepsister’s cunny lewdly. He was shocked out of his stupor when Itachi started to lean down once again. Though, instead of dipping down to her lips, he goes further and licks one of her nipples. Sasuke’s eyes snapped to her face when she let out a sharp cry of pleasure.

“You can put your mouth on her. Just. Like. This.” Itachi punctuated his words with kisses around his Imouto’s breast before he took her nipple into his mouth and flicked his tongue against the bud. Itachi figured that Sasuke had gotten the point by then and pulled back again and slid his hands into a grip around her waist. He sat back and hoisted her up into his lap, sitting sideways so Sasuke could still see what he was doing.

“You need to pay attention to her reactions, Sasuke. Watch how she jolts,” he reached up and pinched her nipple, making her jump, “how she sighs,” he leaned in and pressed lingering open-mouthed kisses against her neck, making her release a breath of pleasure, “how she moans,” he rolled his hips up into her as she released a wanton moan, “how she cries.” He growled out and slid his hand between their bodies and runs at her clit making her cry out in ecstasy. Y/n heard a shaky breath escape her Onii-chan and she let her eyes wander over to him. Her walls clenched around her Nii-san’s cock at the sight of Sasuke pumping his dick to the sight of her getting fucked.

She moaned loudly once again when Itachi bucked his hips up harshly. He moved his hand to rest on her waist with his thumb still over her clit, his other moving back to her waist to help her move on his dick. Up and down. Up and down. Her hands flew to his shoulders for stability when she started to shake. He flicked his thumb over her clitty while he had her bounce on his length.

“You’re doing well, princess.” He muttered against her neck as he kissed up the expanse of skin and to her lips. He swallowed up all her high-pitched whines and moans as he kept her hips moving and his thumb on her clit, though he had slightly relented on the assault. Sasuke and the Council watched on as Itachi fucked up into his little sister’s cunt and helped her bounce on his cock.

Remembering he was meant to be teaching Sasuke and not simply fucking his little stepsister— like he had been wanting to since nearly the first day she’d arrived— Itachi laid back and kept her riding him. His hands grasped her bouncing tits and squeezed them pleasurably and made her moan. Sasuke was entirely captivated by watching his little Imouto desperately riding their elder brother to get her release and the way she reacted to every one of his movements.

Her hands planted themselves on his stomach and she leaned forward enough to easily bounce herself on her Nii-san’s cock. She had let her eyes fall closed as she lost herself in the pleasure but then she reopened them when a jolt of pleasure shot through her. Her Nii-san’s big cock hit the perfect spot inside her dead on. She released a lewd moan that would be right at home in the red-light district.

Her walls fluttered around him and he groaned lowly at the feeling, instinctively bucking his hips up. With a quick glance at the Council, he saw a couple raised brows at his movements but they stayed silent since it didn’t hinder the demonstration for the youngest son of the head family.

“Sasuke..” Itachi grunted, gaining a bit of his younger brother’s attention, “You always want to make sure that she cums first, okay?“ He panted out, feeling her walls flutter and clench around his cock as she bounced on him. His little stepsister whined about how good he felt and that seemed to be enough, for the moment at least, for the Council to nod in approval. Itachi was doing a well enough job demonstrating how to properly breed a prime candidate for the next heir as well as how to please a future wife for the younger Uchiha heir.

Sasuke was enraptured with the sight in front of him and watched both his siblings’ motions and took a good interest in every one of his little sister’s reactions to each motion. He watched her face contort with pure ecstasy as his older brother’s cock was swallowed up by his stepsister’s tight little cunny. Her juicy cunt that was stretched so wide over her Nii-san’s dick and left a creamy ring at the base of his shaft each time she raised her hips. The slick sounds of his elder brother’s cock sliding in and out of her dripping cunt was almost enough to bring Sasuke to release just on their own as he continued to fuck his fist in time with his little sister’s hips crashing down on their brother.

Y/n’s moans became more high-pitched and closer together as she rapidly approached her orgasm. Seeing and feeling her reaching her end, her Nii-san couldn’t help but smirk proudly that his cock alone was more than enough to satisfy her. Deciding to reward her for being such a good girl for him, Itachi reached up and groped her bouncing breasts. He pinched her nipples and lightly rolled them between his fingers as he squeezed her chest with the rest of his fingers wrapped around the plump flesh.

“You feeling good, princess? You gonna cum?” Itachi teased her, knowing full well she was fucked dumb enough that she wouldn’t be able to properly respond to him. As he predicted, the most she had managed was an erratic nod and a whine vaguely in the form of an affirmative. ‘Enough of a response from my good dumb girl.’

“Fuck…” Sasuke could see just how fucked out his little Imouto was and it aroused him even more that someone could be that blissed out. Y/n vaguely registered her Onii-chan’s voice and looked through hazy eyes at him and moaned wantonly at the sight of his pretty red cock head leaking pre-cum like a faucet. The sensation of her Nii-san’s cock pressing into every pleasure point inside her and crashing into her cervix over again as he played with her tits and toyed with her sensitive nipples combined with seeing her Onii-chan pumping his cock to her being fucked into oblivion all filled her with such intense, unimaginable pleasure. The wave of ecstasy crashed down on her and forced her over the edge and tumbling into a mind-numbing, toe-curling, back-arching orgasm.

Her fluids squirted out and over her Nii-san’s cock and hips and dripped in rivulets down her thighs. Her cunny convulsed and spasmed around Itachi’s dick and squeezed him tighter than he’d ever imagined possible. Just the feeling of her clamping down so damn tight was nearly enough to milk his orgasm right out of him but he held out. Itachi released her tits and slid his hands down her body to her hips and gripped them tightly. With a firm grip on his little stepsister, he jerked his hips up to bury his length inside her yet again. And again. And again. He fucked up into her and relished in her loud moans and pleas for reprieve from overstimulation.

“C’mon, princess, be a good girl and take me, take my cum inside you. Be my good girl and let me cum in this pretty pussy.” Itachi murmured to his Imouto, his words slurred with pleasure. Like the good girl she was, she nodded— though her whines and cries of overstimulation kept flowing from her throat —and let her Nii-san use her spasming and twitching cunt to reach his climax. And reach it, he did, soon enough. Finally, he slammed her hips flush to his and kept her still as his cum filled her womb. The warmth that flooded her insides brought her to a second orgasm and her body twitched for a few moments as the rest of her strength left her and she collapsed forward onto Itachi’s chest, her head tucked into his shoulder, under his chin.

Itachi pressed a sweet kiss to her temple as she lay boneless against him. He looked to the side and saw Sasuke also sitting, spent beside them, cum splattered on his stomach and chest as he heaved for breath. Itachi lightly ran his hand carefully over her back and his other rubbed a small, soothing massage on her hips and lower back for any pain that would appear. She panted heavily against him and curled into him for comfort after such an intense ordeal.

“Well done, Itachi. You have succeeded in your task. Now we will allow you rest. Clean cloths and water will be brought to you shortly. Sasuke. Once you recover, you are to return to the main house to report to the Uchiha Head. He will be awaiting your arrival.” The Council Head spoke and he and the rest of the group shuffled out of the ceremony hall.

“Good job, Sasuke. Let’s hope you actually retained the information.” Itachi teased and breathlessly chuckled at the face his brother pulled. As Sasuke recovered and prepared himself to report to their father, Itachi moved a hand to stroke his little stepsister’s hair. She lazily raised her head to silently bid her Onii-chan farewell as he dragged himself out the door. Itachi smiled at her and guided her face to connect their lips once again. Without energy, their lips lazily and messily mingled with saliva sliding down their chins.

“You did very well, Imouto-chan. You’re a very good girl. My good girl.” Itachi spoke barely a hair's breadth away from his little sister’s lips. She crooned quietly at the praise and happily accepted another kiss from her big brother who had officially claimed her. Her womb overflowed with his seed and her skin was marked with his bites and bruises in the shape of his hands. His good girl tiredly nodded at him, her voice shot from how loudly he had drawn out her moans and cries.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

Crossed out if I can’t tag you for some reason!

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Bexxx my darling. We’ve had the conversation, are horny for the concept so I’m pounding this into the ask box even harder than they’re gonna pound the damn reader.

AU!Billy, Stu, Mickey and Ethan x reader. All alive or as Ghosts whichever is best. All of them going full blown slut on the reader, Stu in the mouth, Billy in the cunt, Mickey in the ass and Ethan in the hand (until he’s not *wink*) . We’ve discussed a lot of it already so GIRL, I know how you’re going to go with this. In advance, poor, sweet Ethan, slutty teasing Billy, supportive icon Stu and Mickey with the GUIDING. I’m going to burst into flames.

I LOVE YOU DUDE!

BITCH, I LOVE YOU! I wrote this all tonight in one sitting, I hope you all enjoy this! Billy AND Stu AND Mickey AND Ethan?! I mean, say fucking less, that is a dream I need to experience. Multi-May continues! I hope you all love this straight-up nasty smut in the afterlife.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.2K. Poly!Ghostface. Billy Loomis/Stu Macher/Mickey Altieri/Ethan Landry/AFAB! Dead Victim Reader! She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Five-Some. Orgy. Hair Pulling. Gagging. Group Sex. Hand Job. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Triple Penetration. Vaginal Sex. Throat Fucking. Anal Sex. Pre-Mature Ejactualation. Sloppy Seconds. Multiple Orgasms.

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"Four In One."

You have never been so fucking full. It was taken right out of your most depraved and wild fantasies, an impossibility and yet here you were, mouth, cunt, ass and one of your hands full.

In the vague haze of your mind, you are reminded of a phrase for being in this exact situation, that being “completely airtight”. 

Some people might think that sex in the afterlife is not a thing, however it was one of the most beloved pass times, you have no physical limitations and nothing but time, it only makes sense. 

You being a victim that had fallen to Ghostface most would assume you’d hate them. You did at one point. Eternity is a long fucking time, though. 

So you got involved with the man who killed you and a few other previous Ghostface’s? It was your business, you were dead, you didn’t care if any other victims or whoever judged you, especially when it felt this fucking good. 

They had managed to get you into a good position, and with all of them helping, you didn’t need to worry about holding yourself up, which is good because you were fucking boneless. 

Billy was buried in your cunt, Stu was in your mouth, Mickey was in your ass, and you had a firm grip on Ethan. The smell was heady, the chorus of moans and skin on skin was obscene, and you were unable to stay still, being pushed and pulled in multiple directions, covered in sweat and thankful for the fact you didn’t have to worry about breathing. 

Stu was pulling your hair, dragging you nearer, your nose pressed to coarse hair, his head tipping back with a moan, “Fuck yes, when you swallow around the head it feels fucking fantastic-” He pulled harder, and you gagged, you didn’t really, but you knew Stu liked when you did, so you mimic it, you feel him throb on your tongue and Billy groans. 

“When she gags she clenches beautifully, man.” He breathed and Mickey agreed, “God yeah, she feels fucking perfect tonight.” 

You are soaking up the praise, pleasure sinking into the very marrow of your bones, you manage to open your eyes, curious why Ethan was being so quiet, and he is staring right at you and oh no. The poor boy. His curls are sweat soaked, bottom lip tugged by his teeth, face flushed, and it is spreading down to his chest, when your eyes lock he moans, he is pulsing in your hand and Stu notices the moment you, and he were sharing. 

“You alright there, Eth?” Stu asked, and the response came out strained, “Feels so good, too fuckin’ good, sh-she looks and God, how she sounds, I-I dunno if I can make it-”

Billy cuts in, his hips slowing, “Oh hey man, you gotta wait till you get in one of her holes at least.” 

You nod as much as you are able to with Stu’s hand in your hair and his dick down your throat, you wanted that, you desperately wanted Ethan to cum in one of your holes, Hell you wanted all of them to cum either in you or on you, it was a deep and clawing craving that was refusing to leave. 

Mickey’s pace was getting sloppy, he was thrusting harder and harder, faster and being totally selfish in the way only he can be when he is close, fully worried with chasing his own release, you say a silent prayer, happy that your ass could take the punishment he was doling out. “Fuck, fuck, you won’t have to wait long, Ethan.”

Mickey thrusts inside you three more times and then holds deep as he unloads inside of you with an utterance of your name. The rush of heat makes you choke and moan on Stu’s shaft with a shudder. 

You stop stroking Ethan, worried that he is going to cum, your hand grips the base of his shaft tightly to ensure he wouldn’t spill over quite yet.

Mickey stays in you for a moment, barely grinding his hips, milking the aftershocks and every ounce of pleasure out of his orgasm. You feel his head tip, his forehead rests on your shoulder, you feel the press of his lips, a kiss, sweet, before he pulls out with a groan, and spreads you, he can see your wrecked looking hole, slowly leaking his cum. 

Mickey looks over your body still being rocked between Billy and Stu, and he says easily, “Get over here, Ethan.” 

You let go of him, and he practically scrambles to get behind you, almost falling over the tangle of the other boys limbs on the way. Stu and Billy laugh, Mickey shaking his head, “Bless him.”

“So cute.” Stu confirms. 

Billy holds still and motions for Stu to do the same, “Ease up while he gets in there.” 

The blonde complies and they all watch, Ethan’s hands rest on your ass, and he looks adorably nervous, he is practically shaking, breathing erratic, he looks painfully hard and is leaking so much pre-cum. It’s like he is almost rooted to the spot, staring down at your slowly leaking hole. You push on Stu’s hip, and he allows it, pulls out of your mouth, and you look over your shoulder at him, you clear your throat before saying, “C’mon Ethan, please?”

He curses quietly, and then you watch Mickey come up behind him, one hand on Ethan’s hip and the other reaches around him, grips the base of his cock and says, “Lemme help you out.” 

Ethan almost jumps out of his skin, tenses but gives a single nod once, consenting with more than the action, he begs, “Please, yes, I-I want to so bad but, I can’t-.” 

“I know man, it’s alright, I got you.” Mickey soothed, and he pushes forward on Ethan’s hip, his other hand guiding Ethan’s cock, the blunt head presses to your nearly raw and well lubed hole. When the tip breaches Ethan comes back to himself, fingers dig into ample flesh, and he pushes, you moan and encourage him, “Fuck yes, please-”

Mickey lets go, his grin is positively wolfish as he watches the show unfold. 

Ethan curses again, and he shoves in roughly, about halfway before pulling out, the poor guy only gets less than ten pumps in, not even fully inserted, before he is cumming with a strangled cry, body a quaking, sweat slicked mess. He is apologizing over and over, gasping for breath, “M’ sorry, fuck, sorry, sorry, felt too fuckin’ good, couldn’t stop it-”

“S’ okay.” You reassure as he pulls out, “You’ll last longer next time.” 

Billy is laughing and starting to thrust into you again, “Fuckin’ pathetic, man.”

Stu shoved Billy’s shoulder and said, “Oh lay off, you didn’t last much longer first time you got in that ass.” 

You giggled, “He’s right, you know.” Stu taps your cheek and says, “Open up.”

Mouth falling open in compliance, he re-inserts, you still had to get the last two off and were eager to do so. You can hear Ethan trying to defend himself to Mickey, “I could feel Billy in her pussy when I was in there, and it was too much!”

“The extra friction will get you, it’s true.” Mickey sympathizes, and you suppress a laugh, trying to focus on sucking the dick in your mouth and moving your hips in time with Billy’s thrusts.