#hand over his eyes under his... nose? because it sounds so pretty

[chrissssssmut]

can i request a fic where, after the reader's girlfriend breaks up with him, his elder sister jiwoo (tripleS) comforts him and they end up fucking 🙏🏻🙏🏻

STILL THINKING ABOUT HER?

TripleS Jiwoo x Male Reader

AN: Surprise! Finished this super fast! Hope you guys could still wait for the others!

It started with the sound of your bedroom door creaking open—slow, careful, like whoever was on the other side wasn’t sure if they should be walking in at all.

You didn’t move.

The room was dark, but the faint hallway light outlined her silhouette perfectly: soft curves in an oversized hoodie, one hand clutching the doorframe, the other holding what looked like a can of Coke.

“Hey,” Jiwoo’s voice was low, casual, but laced with concern. “You good?”

You scoffed quietly, buried in your pillow. “What do you think?”

She stepped in anyway. No knock, no permission. Just Jiwoo being Jiwoo—your dad’s new wife’s daughter. Technically your step-sister, but you barely saw each other as family. You hadn’t grown up together. She moved in only a year ago.

And now she was in your room, sitting on your bed like it was hers.

“I heard about Seoyun,” she said after a pause. “She really broke up with you by text?”

You rolled onto your back, arm flung across your forehead. “Yeah. Just… three sentences. ‘It’s not working. I’m sorry. Don’t text me again.’”

Jiwoo made a sound—half laugh, half snort. “Wow. Cold bitch move.”

“She’s not a bitch,” you muttered defensively.

Jiwoo raised an eyebrow. “You’re defending her after that? Wow. You really were in deep.”

You didn’t reply. You hated how easily she got under your skin, but… you hated even more how right she usually was.

She kicked off her slippers and folded her legs, sitting cross-legged next to you. You could smell her perfume—light, citrusy, familiar from passing her in the hallway or brushing past her in the kitchen. She reached out and ran her fingers through your hair like she’d done it a thousand times.

You froze.

“You know,” she murmured, “not to make it about me, but… I always thought Seoyun was kind of boring. Pretty, sure. But zero personality. Like… if tofu were a person.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for the comfort.”

“I am comforting you,” Jiwoo said innocently. “Just… in my own way.”

Her hand didn’t stop moving—fingertips tracing your scalp, a gentle scratch at the nape of your neck. You hated how good it felt.

“Why do you care, anyway?” you asked, not looking at her.

She clicked her tongue. “Because you’re moping. And I live here. And it’s annoying.”

You huffed.

“And maybe,” she added with a smirk, “I like you better when you’re not acting like a kicked puppy.”

You finally glanced at her—and she was already staring. Her eyes locked with yours, and for the first time, you realized how close she was sitting. Her thigh was brushing yours, the hoodie slipping off one shoulder, exposing soft skin and the strap of her tank top underneath.

“What’re you looking at?” she teased, tilting her head.

You looked away quickly. “Nothing.”

“Ohhh, don’t lie,” she grinned. “Were you staring at my shoulder? That’s so scandalous.”

“Jiwoo…”

“Or was it the bra strap?” she whispered, leaning closer, lips inches from your ear. “You do know I’m not wearing pants, right?”

You swallowed hard. She wasn’t. Just a long hoodie. Maybe underwear under there, maybe not.

“I thought you came to comfort me,” you said stiffly, trying to control your breathing.

“I am comforting you,” she purred. “Don’t you feel better already?”

Your heart was racing. You sat up a little, leaning on your elbows, but Jiwoo didn’t move. If anything, she leaned in more—nose brushing your cheek.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said softly. “You’re just teasing, right?”

Jiwoo smiled. A slow, knowing, wicked smile. “Maybe I started teasing. But maybe…” Her hand slid down your chest, over your shirt, then lower, trailing along your stomach. “Maybe I got curious.”

You caught her wrist. “Jiwoo.”

She paused, but didn’t pull away. “Just say the word,” she whispered. “And I’ll stop.”

You hesitated.

Then let go of her wrist.

“…Don’t stop.”

She was on top of you in seconds.

Lips crashing into yours, warm and soft, her hands sliding under your shirt like she’d been dying to touch you for years. You kissed her back—hard. Months of frustration, heartbreak, loneliness—all pouring into the heat between your mouths.

Jiwoo moaned into the kiss, grinding against you. “Mmm. There he is. That’s the real you.”

Your hands found her thighs, bare and warm under the hoodie, and pulled her closer. She gasped when you pushed up against her.

“You’re already hard?” she grinned. “God, your ex was such a waste. Bet she didn’t even suck you properly.”

You groaned. “Why are you so dirty?”

She bit your neck playfully. “Because I know you like it.”

Then her hand was slipping under your waistband—fingers wrapping around you. You gasped, hips bucking into her palm.

“Fuck, Jiwoo—”

She licked her lips. “Shh. Let your big sister take care of you.”

That shouldn’t have turned you on more. But it did.

She slid down your body, tugging your pants down with one hand, her eyes never leaving yours. “Let me see how heartbroken you really are, baby.”

She went down on you slowly, deliberately—tongue teasing, lips curling into a smirk every time you gasped or cursed her name. She loved the control. Loved the way your hands tangled in her hair, the way your thighs tensed with every motion.

When you finally couldn’t take it anymore and pulled her up, kissing her hard, she only laughed breathlessly against your lips.

“You gonna fuck your big sister now, huh?” she teased. “Gonna cry on my shoulder and cum in me all in the same night?”

“You’re insane,” you muttered.

Jiwoo winked. “You love it.”

You did. God help you, you did.

Your hands gripped her hips like a lifeline as she slid down on you, inch by inch. Jiwoo gasped when you bottomed out inside her, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as her body trembled slightly from the stretch.

“F-fuck—Jiwoo—” you groaned, barely able to breathe. She was tight, hot, soaking wet. Every part of her clenched around you like she was made for this—for you.

Jiwoo opened her eyes again slowly, lips curled into that same smug, wicked smile. “Yeah?” she breathed, grinding her hips in a slow, devastating circle. “That good already?”

Your head tipped back into the pillow as a guttural moan left your throat. “You feel… so fucking good.”

Her nails scratched lightly down your chest. “You think your little high school girlfriend could take you this deep?” She sank down again deliberately, drawing another strangled moan from you. “Huh, baby?”

“Don’t talk about her—”

“Why not?” she whispered, leaning forward, her hands on your chest for balance. “You’re inside me now. Not her. She didn’t deserve this cock—I do.”

She started moving faster, hips lifting and dropping in a rhythm that sent lightning through your spine. The slapping sound of skin meeting skin filled the room—wet, filthy, intimate.

Your fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass, guiding her movements now. She let you take over for a moment, panting, flushed, letting you thrust up into her. Her hoodie slid up, exposing her stomach, then her bare chest. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

You reached up to cup her breasts, fingers brushing her nipples, and she gasped—then laughed breathlessly.

“God, you’re desperate,” she teased, biting her lip as she rode you harder. “You gonna cry again? Or are you just gonna fill me up like a good little brother?”

You pulled her down into a kiss—sloppy, deep, tongues clashing. She moaned into your mouth as you rolled your hips up, fucking her deeper, harder.

Her rhythm started to break. Her body trembled again, this time not from teasing, but from the steady build toward release.

“Ah—fuck—you’re hitting so deep—” Jiwoo choked out, head falling to your shoulder. “Shit, baby, you’re gonna make me—”

You flipped her before she could finish the sentence—rolling her onto her back, still buried inside her. Jiwoo let out a surprised laugh, then moaned when you slammed back in.

“Whoa—someone’s getting bold,” she breathed, wrapping her legs around your waist. “So rough all of a sudden… is this how you fuck your ex in your head?”

You stared down at her, breath ragged. “No. This is all for you.”

That shut her up—for a second.

Her voice was breathless, high-pitched, whiny now. “Then don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

You didn’t.

You kept thrusting, harder now, the bed creaking beneath you, her nails clawing into your back as she got louder, more desperate.

“Jiwoo—fuck—I’m close—”

“Inside,” she gasped. “Don’t pull out—I want it. I want all of it.”

You slammed into her faster, your rhythm turning frantic as your climax approached.

“Jiwoo—!”

“Cum for me, baby—fill your big sister up, fuck—”

You exploded inside her with a growl, hips jerking as your release overtook you. Jiwoo cried out beneath you, arching her back, body shuddering as she came too—legs locked around you, holding you in as deep as possible.

You collapsed onto her, both of you soaked in sweat and panting, your heart pounding in your ears.

She ran a hand through your hair, laughing softly.

“Well,” she whispered, kissing your cheek, “I think I win Best Comforter of the Year.”

You kissed her again, dazed.

“…You’re insane.”

Jiwoo grinned.

“But I made you forget her, didn’t I?”

The smell of eggs woke you before the sun did.

You blinked, barely registering the mess of clothes scattered across your floor. Jiwoo’s hoodie was hanging off the corner of your bed, your boxers were inside out on the floor, and the faint soreness in your thighs reminded you that last night hadn’t been a dream.

Holy shit.

You really fucked your step-sister.

And she really enjoyed it.

You dragged yourself out of bed, tossing on sweats and a shirt, and padded barefoot to the kitchen.

Jiwoo was already at the stove. She was wearing your hoodie now — sleeves too long, hem barely covering the curve of her ass, and absolutely nothing else. She flipped eggs with one hand and sipped orange juice with the other.

She glanced at you with a lazy smile. “Morning, loverboy.”

You froze. “Jiwoo—don’t say stuff like that.”

“What? Too soon?” she smirked. “Should I have waited till after breakfast to call you that?”

You sat at the counter, rubbing your face. “This is insane. What if someone finds out?”

“Relax,” she said, sliding a plate in front of you. “Dad's on a business trip and Mom’s doing yoga in Jeju. We’ve got the house to ourselves for a whole weekend.”

“That’s not the point,” you muttered.

Jiwoo leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “You didn’t seem so worried about that when you were balls deep in me last night.”

You nearly choked on your orange juice.

“Jesus—Jiwoo.”

She giggled and pulled back. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You glared at her. “You’re seriously not weirded out?”

She took a slow bite of egg, chewing with a thoughtful hum. “We're not blood-related. You’re hot. I’m bored. You needed to forget your ex. And I like making you squirm.” She licked her fork. “So no. I’m not weirded out.”

You said nothing. Just stared at your food.

“Still thinking about her?” Jiwoo asked softly.

You glanced up.

She wasn’t smirking anymore. Her eyes were darker now—watching you carefully.

“…Not really,” you admitted.

She smiled. “Good.”

You escaped to the bathroom after breakfast, needing to wash off the confusion—and the scent of sex still lingering on your skin.

You peeled off your clothes and turned the shower on, stepping under the spray. The hot water felt like absolution.

Until the door creaked open.

You turned fast. “Jiwoo?!”

She was leaning against the frame, arms crossed under her chest, wearing the same damn hoodie.

“What the hell—can’t I get ten minutes alone?”

Jiwoo walked in slowly, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click.

“You sure you wanna be alone?” she asked, voice low. “You looked like you were about to cry again.”

You stepped back as she approached the fogged-up glass.

“Jiwoo. I’m literally naked.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So? You think I didn’t see all of you last night?” Her fingers hooked under the hoodie and peeled it off slowly, dropping it to the tile.

She wasn’t wearing anything.

You swallowed hard. “Jiwoo—what are you doing?”

She stepped into the shower with you, not even blinking as the water soaked her hair and skin. She was glistening now—wet and beautiful and way too close.

“I’m helping you forget,” she whispered. “Clearly, one round wasn’t enough.”

You backed up until your back hit the tile. Jiwoo didn’t stop.

Her hand wrapped around your shaft before you even realized you were getting hard again.

“You say her name once,” Jiwoo murmured, “and I stop.”

You looked at her—completely soaked, lips parted, eyes burning into yours—and said nothing.

“…That’s what I thought.”

Jiwoo sank to her knees in the shower, water streaming down her face and breasts. Her lips wrapped around the tip of your cock and you nearly lost balance. The heat of her mouth, the suction, the way her tongue curled under you—

“F-fuck—Jiwoo—”

She moaned around you, fingers curling around the base as she took you deeper, slower, more purposeful this time. Her eyes never left yours. She was proving something—and you were losing the argument.

Your hands braced against the wall as your hips twitched. “I’m gonna—Jiwoo, I’m gonna—”

She pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at you, face soaked in water and spit. “Not yet.”

She stood and turned around, pressing her palms against the glass wall of the shower, her ass arching toward you.

“You’re not done making me forget, are you?” she asked sweetly.

You didn’t answer.

You grabbed her hips and slid inside in one thrust. Jiwoo let out a long, desperate moan.

“Oh fuck, that’s it—yes—just like that—”

You pounded into her, harder now, water splashing with every thrust, steam rising between your bodies. Her ass bounced against your hips with every movement, and the way she clenched around you made your head spin.

“You’re gonna wreck me,” she whimpered, voice trembling. “God, you’re gonna fucking ruin me.”

You leaned in close, grabbing her hair, whispering against her ear. “Good. Maybe then you’ll stop acting like this doesn’t mean anything.”

That silenced her.

For one second.

Then she looked over her shoulder with a wild grin. “Baby,” she gasped, “I want it to mean something.”

That was it. You grabbed her tighter, fucked her deeper, until the shower walls shook and Jiwoo was moaning your name like a prayer.

When you came inside her again—loud, breathless, bodies slick and shaking—she collapsed into your arms, dragging both of you to the floor of the shower.

You sat there, holding her, heartbeat against heartbeat, both of you panting under the rain of water.

After a long pause, she finally whispered:

“…Still thinking about her?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Good,” she smiled, nuzzling your chest.

“Because if you ever do, I’ll just have to fuck the memory out of you all over again.”

[florihaei]

• ౨ৎ ────── HEAVY HANDS, TENDER HEART ⟡ 🫐 ₊ ˖ ་.

˖ ！for my love lee jeno ❞ 💭 ( 이제노 ) ꒰ lee!jeno x fem!reader

in which … lee jeno fights battles inside and outside the ring, but the hardest one is keeping you at arm’s length. when misunderstandings and bruised hearts threaten to pull the both of you apart, jeno has to choose, keep guarding himself, or fight for the one person he can’t afford to lose ⟡ 🫐

⟡ 🫐 - boxer jeno !, angst/ suggestive/fluff- miscommunication, mentions of physically injures(bruises, cuts), happy ending!, names : pretty, baby, pretty girl, angel!

౨ৎ … WC - 2k! ( FLORIHAEI’S VALUT )

⟡ 🫐 秋のメモ… ︵ ︵ ིྀ - decided to do a little change to the theme, i don’t know how to feel about it! let me know!!, but feedback and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!!, please enjoy!!

©florihaei 2025 ꒰ do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without permission ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ

the gym always smelled like sweat every time you came. punching bags swayed the ceiling, the sound of gloves hitting the leather echoing off the concrete wall as. and the center of it all stood. lee jeno, your boyfriend, your boxer, your biggest heartbreak waiting to happen.

you watched him from the corner bench, arms crossed tightly against your chest. his movement were sharp. there was something so captivating about how focused he was. but today, you weren’t just here to admire him. today you were here because he hadn’t answered your calls in three days.

jeno ducked under a punch form his partner and finished with a clean uppercut. the partner stumbled back, waving a gloved hand to signal to end the match. jeno ripped off his gloves, tossing them to the side, and finally after what felt like ages his eyes met yours.

you stood up, tension stiffening in your spine.

“hey” he said as his voice was low and rough from his match you guessed.

“hey..” you stared at him, taking in his he bruises that were going along his jaw. “you good?”

he shrugged, wiping his face with a towel. “it’s just training.”

“you didn’t call me back” your voices cracked a little bit, and you hated that.

jeno avoided your gaze, tossing the towel onto a bench. “i’ve been busy.”

you stepped closer, feeling like you were standing at the edge of a cliff. “too busy to text me once?”

there was a moment of silence. the sound of gloves hitting bags filled the air again, but it feels like the world had shrunk to just you and him.

“im not trying to hurt you” jeno muttered, finally looking at you, and you just wished he hadn’t. his expression was closed off, his expression was closed off, his guard up, like you weren’t just another opponent.

“then what are you trying to do jeno?” your voice was small, honest…

he breathed out sharply through his nose. “im trying to focus, i have a fight coming up. I don’t need distractions..”

those words hit harder than any punch.

“oh” you laughed bitterly, wrapping your arms around yourself: “right .. im a distraction”

he flinched like he hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. but it was too late. you were already backing away, your chest filled with hurt.

“good luck with your next fight” you said tightly, turning before he could see your eyes blur with tears.

-

you didn’t hear from jeno for a week.

you didn’t watch his fight, event those you saw it trending online.

you didn’t answer when he text late at night, with two simple words, “im sorry”

you didn’t trust yourself to answer, because if you did, you knew you would forgive him to easily, and you weren’t sure if you should.

but love is messy, it’s stupid, it doesn’t listen to your logic.

so when someone knocks on your door at midnight two days later, you knee before you opened it that it was him.

jeno stood there, hoodie pulled low over his forehead, hands shoved into his pockets. a fresh cut split the corner of his lip, and bruises shadowed his knuckles.

“can i come in?” he asked, voice horse.

you hesitated, every instinct screaming at you to protect yourself, but you stepped aside anyway.

he walked in slowly, like he was scared to break something. you stayed by the door, watching him like he might vanish.

for a long moment, neither of you said anything.

then jeno finally turned to face you, his walls down for once, his eyes raw and vulnerable.

“i won” he said quietly. “the fight.. i won”

you nodded stiffly. “congrats”

he swallowed hard. “it didn’t feel good.”

that caught you off guard. “what?”

jeno ran a hand through his messy hair, pacing a little like he was in the ring again, trying to find the right angle.

“i thought winning would fix everything, i thought if i just.. pushed everyone away, i could focus.. be better. be stronger”

he stopped, fist clenching at his sides.

“but i was wrong, i was so fucking wrong baby.”

you pressed your back against the door, trying to keep steady as he stepped closer.

“you’re not a distraction ___” jeno said, his voice breaking. “you’re the only thing that’s keeping me sane”

tears stared to prick your eyes, but you blinked them away. “then why did you push me away jeno?”

he looked at you like you were asking him to pull his own heart out. “because i was scared angel.. scared that if i let myself need you, and something happened.. i’d lose everything”

“you wouldn’t lose me jen” you whispered. “you never had to choose between fighting and loving me.”

he stepped closer, so close that you could feel the heart radiating off him, you could smell the faint scent of leather and sweat clung to his skin.

“i know that now pretty.”

his hands hesitantly, then dropping again, like he didn’t know if he had the right to touch you anymore.

you reached for his first.

your fingers brushed against his bruised knuckles, gently and tenderly, and jeno let out a shaken breath like the smallest touch was enough to undo him.

“i’m sorry” he whispered again. “for everything baby”

you nodded, your throat too tight to speak. then he reached up, cupping his batted face, pulling him down for a kiss.

it wasn’t perfect, he winched slightly against the cut on his lips, but it didn’t matter. it was real, it was yours.

when you pulled away, jeno pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“i love you” he said, his voice raw.

you let out a broken laugh, tears finally slipping free. “i love you too idiot”

he smiled, it was small.. real, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen in weeks.

“stay?” you whispered.

he nodded without hesitation, pulling you tightly against his chest like he was scared you might slip away again.

“always..”

jeno was a fighter in and out of the ring, but when he was with you, he didn’t have to fight anymore he could just be him.

[karikarasuno]

part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen

making law blush is a difficult task. he doesn't blush. it's not his thing. it's never been his thing. he expects most things, so catching him off guard is quite the task. yet you try and try. often times failing. but there have been a few occasions where his cheeks have burned. where he's looked in the mirror and saw an unfamiliar stain of red creeping across his cheeks.

the first time it happened was when you drunkenly stripped for him. it was cute at first. the way you tugged sloppily at your own clothes. he didn't think you would actually be able to pull off your top after your arm caught in the sleeve. he laughed. but his laughter died quickly when you finally tugged the fabric over your head and revealed a red lacy bra. law has never been the biggest fan of red. until you kicked off your pants. matching underwear. red. somehow and suddenly red became law's favorite color.

that was until he looked in the mirror after tucking you in and faced himself. the red on his cheeks matched the red that adorned your body.

the second time was at cora's apartment. it was his turn to host family dinner. you were obviously invited. your attendance was actually a requirement per cora's insistence. he said having you around made law less irritable. law didn't agree, but he extended the invitation anyway.

you were just about to sit down beside him after having gotten up for a third time because you forgot to grab a napkin. but before you sat down at the table where his entire family was already seated you grabbed his jaw and lightly, casually said "you have something on your face."

law felt his nose scrunch up in distaste. "what is it?"

and instead of answering you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "a kiss, but i got it for you."

law's mom giggled. he heard it but he had a hard time registering it. not with the loud, overwhelming sound of blood rushing to his cheeks. you smiled to yourself. satisfied. smug. meanwhile law's mind buffered. he felt dumb. and law was far from dumb.

but this time. his blush is a slow burn. one that stemmed from annoyance more than anything else. it's your lotion. you bought it over the weekend when you went shopping with the girls. it's an unassuming bottle. one that he thought was normal until he saw you apply it under the bright lights of the bathroom.

"why are you shimmering?" he says, eyes tracking the way your hand massages the lotion into your shoulder.

"huh?" you're watching a video on your phone, so you use your knuckle to pause it before turning your undivided attention to him.

"your skin," he says slowly, "there's glitter on it."

"oh yeah! isn't it fun?" you twist your arms to watch as the light catches your glittery skin. law doesn't know about fun. what law sees is a problem. especially if that glitter likes to transfer.

and it does. everywhere. the first time he notices it on his black tshirt. he stepped outside to grab the mail and when he looked down he realized he too was shimmering. it's on the pillowcases. the sheets. the blanket you use on the couch. just fucking everywhere.

"do you have to use that lotion every night?" he asks one evening before bed as he watches you apply it to your legs.

"yes, my love, i do. makes me feel pretty," you respond, placing your foot on his thigh as you massage the moisture into your calf.

"i promise, you're equally as pretty without it." he's staring at the way your hands follow the curve of your legs. trailing your fingers from your ankle to your knee. you know how easy he is to distract. but he won't fall for it this time. not when he's seriously concerned with the fact that he might be ingesting the stupid glitter.

“oh don’t be a grouch,” you laugh, swapping one leg for the other. “it just makes me feel girly and sexy.”

“you’re always sexy,” he says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. he feels the way your muscle twitches beneath his lips.

“you’re never not sexy,” he continues, trailing two more kisses up your thigh.

“stop trying to butter me up,” you complain breathily. your hands have already found his shoulders and if you really meant what you said you’d push him away. but the closer he gets to your center the more you open up to him.

“come here,” he groans when his nose nuzzles your crotch. and in an instant law is on his back and you’re sitting on his face. he doesn’t bother removing your underwear. doesn’t push them to the side either. he flattens his tongue against the fabric that covers you. and he licks until your hips twitch in his grip.

you grind against his tongue when it meets your clit, pressing down harder for the sake of friction. he groans and it’s starts in his chest. gets caught in his throat when he begins to taste you through your panties. the cotton is sticking to you, molding against the contours of your lips.

“you gonna keep teasing me or are you gonna do something?” you look down at him, eyes locking where he’s caught between your thighs. and this is a view he enjoys. he indulges in.

he slips a finger into the side of your underwear and pulls the wet fabric away from your cunt. his fingers barely graze you and you flinch from sensitivity.

“and what do you suppose i do?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes up at you. and he knows after all this time that the back and forth turns you on. you ask him not to tease you, but every time he does you’re wetter than before. his knuckle traces your slit. slow. agonizing.

“you could move my stupid underwear out of the way,” you rise slightly onto your knees, “and kiss me.”

his tongue drags along his lower lip. “ask me nicely.”

“will you kiss me?” you ask and he hooks his finger around the fabric and pulls it out of the way. fully exposing you to him. and he’s dying to tilt his head up and taste you. dying to lick into you. but he doesn’t.

not until you “say please.”

“law,” you laugh incredulously because he never makes you beg. it’s not really something he needs to hear. but tonight it’s what he wants. and he wants you to give it to him.

“come on, pretty,” he breathes, kissing the crease right beside your cunt. “say it for me.”

you tense up above him. and your chest is rising heavily with each breath you take. your nipples hard and poking the fabric of his t-shirt. your favorite one to wear to bed.

“will you please kiss me?” your voice pitches up when you ask. dripping with need. with desperation. “please, baby, please kiss me.”

there’s no restraint left in him. no urge to tease or delay. his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks it into his mouth. you cry out when he flicks his tongue against it. whine when his lips leave your clit and he drags his tongue to your entrance. your upper body tilts forward. your hand jumps out to grasp the headboard and the other cards through his hair.

you tug on him when his tongue slips inside of you. he moans at the pressure it applies to his scalp. he can’t help it. you only hurt him when you feel good. when you can’t control how good he’s making you feel.

law’s dick leaks where it’s caught in his sweatpants and his hand moves to grip himself without thought.

“ah, that’s it,” you moan when he flattens his tongue so you can ride him. your hips roll with urgency against his face. and he matches your motions every time he strokes his cock. faster when you grind harder. slower when your hips draw back.

it’s hard for him to watch you the way he wants when his eyes keep closing from the pleasure of being used by you. so unashamed. without care.

“need you to come,” he mumbles into your pussy. his other hand manages to slip beneath your thighs, two fingers parting your folds so he can focus on you. feel you better as you rut into his mouth.

“keep doing that and i will,” you respond. and there’s a pleasant amusement in your voice. one that sends tingles down his spine and he shoves his hand in his pants, fisting his cock as he you work yourself to orgasm on his face. thighs straddling his cheeks and muffling your noises from his ears.

and when you come, the sounds are distant. your moans are playing right above him but all he can focus on is the way your entire body seizes over his head. how your fingers tighten in his hair. and when the pain blossoms across his scalp, he finishes in the palm of his hand. it shocks him. the strength of his orgasm. it catches him off guard.

you body finally relaxes as you sit on his chest. his own endorphins are still wracking through him. his abs tense once more and the feeling of a cramp erupts in his side.

“shit, get off,” he hisses, slapping the side of your thigh. when you’re off he rolls onto his side, his free and clean hand massaging at the space below his ribcage.

he feels your eyes drag down his body and when he looks at you, you’re grinning. flushed and delirious. “did you get a cramp after you came?”

he glances down to the mess in his other hand. and his head falls back onto the mattress. “i don’t wanna talk about it.”

you laugh. freely. joyfully. without shame. and when law’s no longer in pain. he laughs along side you. kisses you. touches you all over again.

the next morning law is so satiated he doesn’t remember the glitter. he doesn’t give a shit about the glitter. he doesn’t even notice the glitter on his neck and cheek until he’s at work and changing into a fresh set of scrubs in the bathroom. the bathroom light is harsh, but when he shifts in front of the mirror he sees the the way it shimmers across his skin. and funnily enough, instead of the annoyance he expects to feel, his dick hardens. and a blush, real and true, erupts across his face.

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 41

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- y’all I can’t believe this series is ALMOST coming to an end… any predictions?👀

Billie’s POV

“Billie!” She calls out, underneath me. Her face shows concern as she grabs onto my ankle.

Suddenly, it begins to lightly sprinkle, and the once clear, blue sky turns a muggy gray.

“Maybe we should go back down.” I say, looking down at her, visibly annoyed by the situation.

“No, it’s just a little sprinkle. Let’s keep going!” She shouts, thinking it’s what I want to hear.

She thinks I want to keep going, because I’m the one that insisted in going rock climbing in the first place. In reality, I want to lock ourselves into our hotel room and shield her from everything, including TMZ. Shield her from the world saying she’s not good enough for me, or maybe even the other way around.

I stop to wipe the water droplets off my forehead. I can’t tell it’s from rain or from sweat, but I dry one hand at a time on my shorts, to keep me from slipping.

“You okay?” She makes her way up, standing right next to me, as close as she can on an outdoor rock climbing wall, of course.

“Yeah, I’m fine. They’re just so annoying.” I gesture toward the cameras.

“Hi Billie!” They shout, realizing I notice them.

They continue to shout out at us, as if we’d stop everything to have a conversation with them.

“Is that your girl, Billie?”

“What’s your new girlfriend’s name?”

“Kiss!”

“Look over here, Billie!”

“Billie! Billie! Billie!”

She looks at me, slight shock on her face. “Oh, wow.”

A small laugh escapes her lips, making me feel like she’s about to shoot me in the chest. With the painful feeling of rejection already crawling under my skin, I scrunch my nose and look away.

I feel sick.

Remy keeps her eyes on me, but I’m too afraid to see her genuine reaction.

I scoff, cringing and contorting my face as if the thought of kissing Remy here, so high up that we can see the ocean, actually nauseates me.

As if.

I keep climbing but she stays where she is for a minute.

“Come on. Before the rain gets worse.” I look down, waiting for her to come up.

“Just ignore them. At least they’re not being vultures like back home.” She is next to me again, not knowing I don’t want her near me. We are more than halfway up the wall now.

“I just don’t want them making shit up.” I concentrate on getting to the top. I sigh, aggravated at the situation.

“They’re gonna say whatever they want anyway.” She says, he voice calm as she keeps up with me.

“Yeah, but it’s all bullshit. They could’ve said anything at all, but they pick the dumbest fucking-“

“Oh my God, Jesus, Billie! Is it really that repulsive to you?”

“What?” I stop.

“The thought of you being with me?” She looks me in the eyes briefly, before passing me up the wall.

I blink, “N-No— I mean—“ I pick up the speed, gripping onto the wall as hard as I can. My shoes making squeaky noises as I step on each ridge.

She gives an uncertain laugh, “You said it enough times it’s like— Thanks bro.”

“I don’t meant it like th—“

“Dude. You won’t stop saying how stupid—”

“Remy, wait up.” The moment I look away to get better footing, she screams.

I look up to her foot slipping on wet rock, her body dropping at least 50 feet before the rope attendant pulled on his end to save her from hitting the ground. The sound of her scream sent my heart through my esophagus, and into my mouth. It was so loud it left my ears ringing.

I make my descent as fast I can, dropping to the ground, where she sits, doubled over, grabbing at her knee.

“Oh my fucking God, are you okay!?” I quickly get the attendant to unhook me, kneeling beside her.

“Yeah.” She winces, “I stepped on it wrong. My shoe slipped, and I hit my knee on it with all my weight.”

“You slammed the wall pretty hard when you were swinging too! Can we call paramedics for you?“ The attendant pulls out his phone, standing over us.

“No, no. I’m okay.” Remy winces in pain, still covering her knee.

“Let me see.” I take her hands away, uncovering her knee. It’s all gashed and bloodied, dribbling down her shin. There’s dirt and tiny pebbles of gravel inside the deeply cut tissue. “Ooh, shit, Rem. Maybe we should see paramedics.”

The attendant begins to dial on his phone, but Remy is persistent. “No, no, no! I’m- I’m fine. I just need to wash off, that’s all.” She nods.

“Help me up.” She reaches her hand up as I stand, wrapping an arm around my neck for support.

“Can you even stand?” I hold her up.

“Yeah, yeah. It just hurts to bend my knee.” She groans as we hop over to the bathroom, where I can help her clean out her knee.

“It’s bleeding a lot, Rem, I think we should get you seen by a—“

“Noo, just help me clean it up!” She whined. She hates doctors. She will avoid it at all costs. Partly because she hates needles, but mostly because of how expensive it is.

We enter a restroom inside a shack, near the entrance. She hops over to the sink, lifting her leg over the counter.

“Here. Let me—“ I lift her up by her waist, sitting her on the sink counter. I stand between her legs, examining the damage done.

“Ouch.” She groans, wincing at the pain and glancing at me. I’d usually be queasy at the sight of such blood, but since it’s Remy’s, I convince myself to toughen up.

“It’s not too bad…” I lie, hoping to make her feel better. I pull her leg gently over the sink, the faucet hovering above her knee.

I turn on the faucet a bit, the gentle stream running over her wound. The water begins to flush out the blood, red flooding the sink beneath her leg.

“I can’t look.” She turns her head, biting on her wrist.

“It doesn’t look too deep.” I say, shutting off the water and softening my voice. “Just gotta get all this dirt out.”

I wash my own hands in the sink beside her, then lather up with lots of antibacterial soap, very delicately brushing some on her gashed up knee. “This might hurt a bit.”

She nods. I can feel her muscles tensing up, “Just hurry.” She says, through gritted teeth.

“I know, I know.”

I turn the faucet back on, letting it wash away all the impurities, picking out a few tiny pieces of gravel and dirt.

“Here is some hydrogen peroxide. I have bandages too, and gauze.” The manager who greeted us walks in.

“Thank you so much.” I accept the first aid kit.

“We’re so sorry about that. Our staff should’ve recommended you come down as soon as the rain began.” She apologizes over and over.

“No, no, it was our fault. Way too locked in.” I joke, shaking my head.

Remy laughs a bit, smiling at the lovely woman, sweetly.

She walks away, and I turn my attention back to my patient. I unscrew the cap on the peroxide bottle as she hastily puts her hand over mine.

“It isn’t going to sting, is it?” Her eyes worried, her brows furrowed.

“No, I promise it won’t. The worst part is over.” I assure her, knowing me digging out chunks of rock from her gash was probably more painful than this liquid will ever be.

She nods, letting me go.

I begin to lightly pour peroxide over her knee, letting it drip down her cut.

“Do you really think that?” She asks, her voice low.

“Think what?” I say, concentrating on pouring until the bleeding fully stops.

“—That… the world thinking you’re dating me is the worst thing ever.” She scoffs a bit toward the end of her sentence. I can feel her staring at me, but all I can focus on is the fizzy water, bubbling up in her knee.

“No, Rem. I didn’t mean it like that.” I screw on the cap, placing the bottle aside. I very softly pat the wound dry with a square piece of gauze pad.

“It just sounded like it.” She says, her eyes following me. “When there’s any other rumor about you, you make jokes, you laugh at it… You know how to laugh at yourself.”

I take a look inside the first aid kit, fidgeting with the materials in front of me.

“I just hate when they make up rumors. Besides, I don’t want you to be affected by them either.” I lie.

I pick out a roll of gauze, peeling back the first layer and tossing it in the trash, just in case. Using the newer, more sterile layer, I begin to wrap it around her knee, completely taking the gauze behind her knee, and back over the wound a few times.

“Sounds like you were more affected by them than I was.” She shrugs.

I shake my head, “It’s just everywhere we go, no matter what—“ I continue wrapping the gauze around her knee.

“I know.” She cuts me off. “It sucks. But it’s just a rumor, right? They’re just lies.”

“Yeah.”

“I think that’s enough wrap arounds, huh?” She laughs a bit, her breathy laugh giving me chills.

“Right.” I stop, fastening the gauze. “Good as new.” I smile at her.

She bends her knee slowly, dangling it off the counter, wincing at the pain. The thought of her gash opening and closing gives me chills.

“Careful, you don’t want it to start bleeding again.” I help her off the counter, lifting her waist as she wraps her arms around me, and placing her on the floor.

She supports herself with an arm around my neck. “We’ll walk slow, okay? ‘Get you back in the hotel.”

She nods.

We start to walk towards the restroom door, but she stops. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” I look at her knee, imagining blood oozing down her knee again. There isn’t.

“The paparazzi, they’ll see us like this. I don’t want it to bother you if—“

“Fuck ‘em. Let them talk.” I shrug. I watch as she crinkles her nose, smiling at me.

We begin to walk towards the door again, but stop again.

“Wait!” She gasps.

“What!” I look back down at her knee, seeing the perfectly white gauze still wrapped tightly around her knee.

“I didn’t thank you. You’re always taking care of me.” She smiles, her eyes shining, like two genuine diamonds. She tilts her head, her lips are slightly parted, and for a second I think she wants to kiss me.

But that would be a dream. See, normally my alarm would go off, and I’d slam the snooze button, hoping I can cheat my way back into finishing said dream.

“Always.” I say, matter of factly, looking away toward the door.

She kisses my cheek and for a second, I freeze. My heart stops, and my chest feels hollow. Both of my arms are covered in goosebumps. There is no way she doesn’t notice. I stand there in complete silence, wondering if that was real.

“You okay?” She snaps me out of it.

No, it wasn’t. I imagined it. It wasn’t real. But God, how much do I wish it actually was.

“Yeah, let’s go.” I lead us out.

[eraserbread]

there's something in the air around you... your husband, nanami, notices it immediately ✧

→ pregnant!reader, panty-sniffer nanami, fingering, mentions of oral, suggestive content

perhaps it's a new perfume, but you never switched from the one he picked out. you've used the same detergent since you were a teenager and match body wash with him.

there hasn't been a change in your lifestyle at all. kento swears he's not crazy...

then, he thinks he might actually be because he's standing in front of the washer with your black silk panties pressed to his nose. you just took them off this morning, so your smell is fresh—mouthwatering—yet different—a good difference.

"ken, i've been dreaming about milk bread from that bakery in-" you're stepping into the room, arms crossed around your traditional robe. you took off your clothes to shower, and now he's nose-deep. "...what are you doing?"

"oh." he replies haphazardly, pretending like he didn't just get caught sniffing your panties. he tosses them in with the rest of the clothes. "yes, dear. milk bread sounds lovely. you know, they do sandwiches too-

"why were you... wait, you're sniffing my panties? are you okay?"

"oh," he repeats, looking down to the contained mess of dark clothes in the drum. "I know... it's odd... i was just wondering why your pheromones have been dipping recently." he turns to you, shutting the washer and leaning against the waist-height appliance. "have you been taking any new medications? no, right? i would know?"

you swallow silence, knowing exactly what he was sensing... and silly you, you know your husband is mystic and observational. you should really tell him about that positive pregnancy test you have hiding in the wardrobe.

now is not that time. you shake your head. "no..."

so, he nods you over. "come here, now. i've been stewing over the matter for a few days."

kento sits you on top of the purring washing machine after he turns it on, giving you a passing kiss as you settle. You still get so flustered with him, and it's heightened right now—you just caught him with a noseful of your most private garments, taking it in like it was flora.

"well, firstly i thought it might've been a new bodywash... but we share."

"mhm." you nod, lips pressing together as he pushes your legs open. under the robe you're completely naked, but the shadow keeps you decent. "'s not the bodywash."

"yes. then, i figured... well, it's more likely to be an internal change. i can smell it waft when you walk by."

"are you saying i stink?"

his eyes get dark. he's staring right into your soul. "no."

you're purring - a steady engine coming to life within you that matches the tremors of the wash cycle. between your thighs, he reaches for your familiar cunt, knowing right where to reach, where he should bypass, and the entirety of your shape. instead of teasing your clit, getting you ready for further stimulation, he slides his thick middle finger inside of you, buried to the hilt.

you take a breath, he cocks an eyebrow. "me smelling you like that... it didn't make you uncomfortable, did it?"

you're shaking your head immediately, reaching a hand to plant on his big, homey shoulder. he's hunching pretty far to get as close as possible, nose trailing over yours when he whispers.

"i don't... i don't even know what that means—mhmf." you squeeze your eyes shut, body twisting as he slips his pointer finger ring-deep inside of you. the shiny metal shocks your soul, twisting at your entrance as his digits stretch you sensually.

then, he chuckles. actually—real, rare. "good. i love you. all of you." he twists his fingers and pulls them out, drinking up your flustered gasps as he brings the glistening pair to his nose, taking a long sniff.

you're reacting like a fish out of water, opening and closing your lips as you try to make sense of it all. before two thoughts can connect, he's dragging those damp fingers to his lips, staring at you hotly as he takes them in his mouth.

he settles on a deep, throaty. "mmm..." cheeks hollowing around them like your taste is his favorite meal. "you're sweeter, too."

[coffee-and-geto]

HAVE YOU SEEN MY PANTIES?

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: in a lazy, hot summer afternoon, it’s your boyfriend’s turn to do the laundry. but why doesn’t he respond when you’re asking where’s your panties?

warnings: +18, smut, nsfw, gojo is your boyfriend, needy! gojo, cute! gojo, fluff, nipple play, panties sniffling, masturbation (m), oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, sex (p in v), also based on a @/yunonoai’s comic!

wc: 2,128

“Babe, can you do the laundry? I have a call.”

“Sure,” Satoru replies, standing up from the couch where he was lazily lying down, chilling out in front of some tiktoks.

He steps towards the bathroom, the laundry hamper waiting for him to be emptied and washed. With a resigning sigh, he looks down at the heap of dirty clothes. One of them overhangs them all: your favorite panties — the one he bought you last month. 

The lace surrounds with finesse the satin fabric of your favorite color.

So how can he not be hard at the only sight that reminds him how long you both haven’t had sex?

Fuck.

His breathing becomes heavier, each inhaling being a trial to not pay attention to the prominent bulge swelling down his gray jogging pants. Of course, the memory of your whimpers will always be like music to his ears, the fwap sounds of his cock buried deep, so deep, inside of your wet pussy, and his balls, so much filled with his cum and tightening when he's about to climax, slapping against your ass at each pound into you.

He is grouching now, at the edge of whining in need of your full attention — but of course, you needed to have a call at this very moment.

His hand twitches to his crotch, palming his already hard erection through the soft fabric of his pants, electricing at quiet moans, Satoru’s beautiful face wincing in pleasure. He swallows thick, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gives in. With messy movements, he lifts up his black shirt to grab the hem at his watering mouth and muffle his cute sounds between his clenched teeth and jaw. The fresh air blow at his hard abs, making him tensing his belly with scorching skin.

His big, calloused hand fiddles with his erection, so ready to free himself from the torturous sensation of your pretty panties, which he holds between his fingers and brings to his nose to inhale your scent, which makes him like a little puppy for you. Satoru utters a desperate whimper and finally buries his hand under his clothes to release his quivering cock.

It’s much bigger than usual, beads of precum glistening on the angry red tip, and veins sinuating the flesh. Of course, it’s perfect. That’s why it will never seem strange to anyone to see him stroke himself. He lazily fucks his tight fist, picturing your sweet pussy as he closes his eyes, beads of sweat leaking from his temples a flush spreads all over his cheeks.

His length girth throbs between his digits, coursing waves of lust through him as Satoru quickens the pace, as the same as his heartbeat. Saliva damps the fabric of his black shirt, and the idea of substituting the hem of his shirt with your panties carries out straight away, increasing his arousal until it’s twitching in a maddened way. With each stroke, the pre spreads along his shaft to allow it to be lubricated, at the point that if you all of a sudden show up in the bathroom, you both can skip the foreplay but damn!

“Toru? Did you see my panties?” Your voice echoes through another room.

But he doesn’t answer anyway.

“Fuck,” he grunts in a quiet whine, “miss you so much, babe.” His balls tighten, following the next moment — and it doesn’t take that much time he expected, because a few seconds after he twists his wrist in an upstroke movement — the exact way you’d do to him — he’s already cumming on the heap of laundry, dirtying them even more they already were, puddles of a viscous liquid, spreading out in droplets as the orgasmic peak subsides.

Panting heavily, he doesn’t hear you burst into the bathroom as you exclaim, “Satoru? You serious? Look at the state of the laundry now!”

With a swift gesture, he removes your panties from his mouth and turns his head suddenly towards you. He’s unable to justify himself and simply watches your disapproving pout ruffle your pretty lips. “Sorry babe, I'll clean it up.” He also notes how your mere presence makes him hard immediately despite having softened a moment earlier with the moment of “relief” he wished to provide for himself.

“Where are my panties?” you ask a second time as you rummage, eyebrows furrowed, through the basket of dirty laundry.

Satoru rubs the back of your neck nervously and hesitates to hide your underwear in his palm. “Uh... here,” he murmurs softly, slightly discomfited as you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

“You’re that much needy?”

Satoru looks down, a little boyish pout on his lips that breaks your heart. “Sorry...”

Your frown softens. “Oh, um— No, Toru, please don’t gimme that look,” you whisper, walking over to him, your hands instinctively cupping his cheeks to make him look down at you. “I’m sorry, my love. You need to tell me when you need me, okay?”

Satoru nods slowly, still guiltily pouting. “Can I have you? Please? Just one round, I swear I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs.

His request makes your lips curl up. “My boy does want me? You’re cute, almost begging like this.” You graze a kiss on his cheek. “Get on your knees.”

“Like that?” His knees make contact with the floor, his cock still outside his dangling jogging suit. He so fucking cute, listening to you so obediently.

“Good boy,” you coo, sliding pants down your thighs. Your black panties hug the swell of your hips, your intoxicating scent spreading toward Satoru’s nostrils.

He moves towards you using his knees to grip your hips and sniff your scent once more. The action makes you giggle so much that it makes you suck in a breath when he pulls down your underwear to kiss your groin. “Love you,” he whispers. “I want to taste you, please.”

“Satoru, just wait I—” But he cuts you off, darting out his tongue to lick a strip enough to feel your bundle of nerves. A moan escapes your lips, driving your breath as crazy as he’s doing with his skillful mouth.

“You’re dripping,” Satoru comments, kissing your lower lips swiftly before grabbing you by the thighs and lifting you up, dropping you off the washing machine. “Spread your legs,” he mumbled, all needy and flushed to eat you out.

And how long he hadn’t—

It’s like he’s drunk on you, ignoring your moans and whimpers as he rests his cheeks on your inner thigh to wrap his wrist around your thighs. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your thighs, trapping you firmly. “Keep ‘em spread, baby,” he purrs, lapping your soaked core and sensitive, puffy clit. “It tastes s’good, I’ve missed you.”

His dick twitches and throbs afterward, your sweet sounds re-hardening him and making him more swollen than he was even after the few rubs he did to relieve himself.

“Hmm, ah, Satoru, you—” you trail off, throwing back your head against the wall, your hands grabbing the washing machine’s edge until your knuckles turn white. “I’ll be close, I—” you babble, and the realization of how much not having sex with him for so long is turning you into a virgin-like. And also, the clenching feeling of your pussy, lips parting and closing around nothing hits you so hard.

You need to cum on his cock.

“Satoru, stop,” you gasp, your fingers snaking gently through his white lock and tugging them carefully.

He stops the moment after your whine reaches his ears — a sound ringing like music to his ear. “But… I haven’t made you come yet,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit slowly with his forefinger and middle finger. His cute pout is now begging you to give him grace.

“I want to cum on your dick,” you clarify, leaning in, your lips pressing down a gentle, loving kiss on this beautiful forehead of him.

“You sure? I haven’t stretched you beforehand.” He rises from his former crouching position and holds his sensitive length closer to your core.

“I don’t mind, I just want you right now,” you blow out, kissing his free hand.

Satoru blushes — and oh, how can anyone fall in love with this cute little face you want to madly shower with cuddles and kisses? “Can we put it in while I kiss you?” he requests, bringing his lips closer to yours.

You let out a little laugh, pressing a first kiss on his lips. “You’re so cute.”

But something makes your eyes drop lower, and you feel it. Satoru’s hand holds his shaft enough well to tap the tip and the length below on your core, teasing your squelching cunt.

“C’mon, don’t tease me, I want you n— Ah!” He shuts you down by crashing his lips on yours and sliding himself easily in you, stretching you impossibly wide. “S-Satoru, you’re bigger than usual,” you whimper. 

Your hands grab his broad shoulder, nails sinking in his compressed black shirt, lips moving on their own to taste yourself on his wet lips. His tender tongue asks to enter you, and you allow him, soft strokes on each other’s tongue.

Satoru moans in the melting kiss, waiting for you to adjust, and starts gentle back and forth hips moves, hissing through his teeth by the sweet, delicious tightness of yours. “You feel so good,” he squeals between kisses. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You gasp, swallowing hard because of the different paces your brain can’t focus on — stolen kisses and perfect pounds into you. It’s so deep, so mastered, that it’s driving you mad and making you see stars.

Breaking the kiss, Satoru wraps his muscled arms around your back and encircles you flush against him, your heartbeat matching with his, and your fingernails slide down his back as you almost lose strength and balance every time his tip brushes against your cervix, etching red scratch marks for sure on his back as soon as he will remove his shirt.

With another buck before pulling out fully, he slides back in and manages to reach your deepest point, making your back arch and cry out. “Satoru, please, I’m so close,” you whine, wincing because of his hips rocking in you faster and harder. 

The washing machine sways to the same rhythm, threatening to give way under your weight. Your heavy, ragged breaths fill the air in a kind of steam room. Blood beats at your ears, your gummy walls clenching around his long, big dick without ceasing and have mercy for you.

But as if that wasn’t enough, Satoru slides your top off with a swift movement of his hand to free one of your breasts and taste the nipple. He sucks hard, tongue pulling and swirling at the nub like no other. The action makes you roll your eyes, the overstimulation engulfing you like a wave would.

He then uses his head to tease your nipple with a gentle tug, his cerulean-blue eyes captivated by your curve. You squeal, your walls swallowing up his thrusts inside you, tightening more and more until he gives in and takes you back into his arms, but this time with a hand under your thigh to lift it up and enable him to reach an even more precise and deep angle, making you scream out his name.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” Satoru warns you, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and his jaw tense from clenching. “Please, where—”

“Inside me, Satoru,” you whimper in the hollow of his neck, closing your eyes before the following ride crashes the two of you.

Pussy clenching around his length, you squirt on him with a small cry, and Satoru does likewise, twitching as he grunts and his hips jerk to reach your womb and fill you up with his cum.

Muscles trembling from the aftermath, you pant against him, as weak as after an intense workout. “I’ve missed you so much,” Satoru whispers in your ear, in the same state as you. His large, quaking hands stroke your hair, soothing you.

White strings escape from your full, swollen-lipped pussy, the sound of trickling filling the silence of the room.

“I promise I’ll do the laundry, but please, can we have cuddles?” Satoru demands, blinking down at you with puppy-dog eyes.

You rest your cheek on his shoulder and nod, a smile stretching your lips, as you reach out to stroke his cheek.

“Of course, my baby.”

DING DONG.

The ringing of the front door echoes in your ears and a memory pops into your head, slapping you in the face.

“Wasn’t Suguru supposed to come to borrow the washing machine here because his is broken?”

Satoru froze, flickering his eyes. “Huh?”

a/n: feelin to write something cute and smutty haha! i think writing things easy like this is unwinding me.

see how he’s so cute? 🥹 pls God give me one…

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t

[amaranthinespirit]

you go to get your clit pierced and simon riley's your piercer

when you first came into his shop, his ears perked up at the sound of the little bell above the door that signaled a new person had entered. when he glanced up from his current client, he wasn't sure what to expect.

maybe he was thinking a returning customer, or a person already adorned with piercings and tattoos ready to add onto their body mods, or someone who fit into the dark, low-light theme of the parlor.

but you. you were the opposite of what he was picturing.

he thought his eyes were deceiving him when he shot a quick glance to where you stood, door barely closed behind you. he had to do a double take because you just looked so out of place with your frilly white shorts and big doe eyes.

his eyes had skillfully scanned your appearance—your skin clear and void of any visible tattoos, no obvious piercings visible to his keen eyes. you even lacked piercings on your ears as he eyed the way you tucked your mousy hair behind them.

he studied you—the way you seemed to be nervous, anxious. by the way you looked, he assumed you wanted a basic piercing. something on the ears, maybe a nose piercing, or as far as a belly button piercing.

luckily for you, he had just finished up on the current client in his chair when you had arrived, just about finished with cleaning them up before charging them and sending them on their way.

you watched the way he approached the counter, peeling the latex from his massive hands as he slipped behind it. he tossed the gloves into the bin under the desk before his arms crossed against his chest—he didn't mean to be intimidating, it was just second-nature at this point.

it didn't help you were exactly eye level with his tatted forearms, the way his tight, black shirt stretched around his beefy biceps, clung to his chest and abdomen. his head tilted at you, narrowing his eyes in a watchful, curious gaze. he watched you rock on the balls of your feet under his eyes.

"what can'i do f' ya today, lov?" his voice was deep and gruff, a slight rasp in the way he spoke. in every way, he matched his environment.

when you muttered quietly about how you hoped he had time to do a piercing for you, a smug smile rose on his lips.

truthfully, no. he didn't have time for anyone else, but for you, he would. so he simply nodded, dropping his arms down to his sides, "'course, 've got some time. what'cha lookin' to get done?"

he was waiting for something along the lines of 'an ear piercing,' or 'a nose piercing please.' so when you shyly looked up at him with those big eyes of yours, telling him how you were looking to get a clit piercing, his eyes betrayed a look of surprise and shock.

he raised a brow, clearing his throat, "is that right?"

he watched your small nod and he hummed, nodding back to you as he thought it over in his head. his heart thumped in his chest, certainly not expecting a pretty thing like you to be asking him for such a piercing.

but who was he to say no?

so he nodded his head to follow him before he guided you to a room in the back for some privacy. he gestured for you to get situated on the little table in the small room while he grabbed a sterile needle and new gloves.

but you were nervous, so you stood awkwardly beside it as you watched him, his back turned to you as he finished the prep.

when he turned around, seeing your nervous stature, his gaze softened and posture relaxed as he waved you over with his fingers, guiding you to sit at the edge of the table as his gloved hands came to rest on your hips.

he pushed you onto your back with a gentle hand on your stomach, muttering to relax as he tugged down your little shorts around your plush thighs.

he hummed appreciatively at the damp spot on your panties, feeling his cock chub up at the sight, twitching in his grey sweatpants that already showed too much.

he leaned closer, glancing to the needle on his little table beside him before looking back between your legs. carefully his gloved fingers peeled aside your little lace panties, exhaling shakily at the slick that stuck to the fabric.

he carefully thumbed over the sensitive flesh, hearing the small gasps from your lips and the way your breath hitched at the contact, the way your hips unintentionally rolled closer to his hand.

he hummed again, nodding as he examined, "got some perfect anatomy for it, sweet'eart," he told you, glancing up at your face before pinching the sensitive bud, reaching over with his other hand to grab what you thought was his needle, "gonna look all nice and pretty when 'm done with ya."

you let out a strained noise in response, the sound shaky in your throat as you prepared for the needle to pierce your sensitive clit. you flinched at the feeling of something cool rubbing your glistening pussy, a huffed chuckle escaping his lips. the deep sound did nothing to sooth your nerves.

"relax, lovie," he cooed, tossing the little sanitizing cloth back on the table, "i'll give ya a countdown if yer feelin' nervous 'bout it, 'kay?"

he felt you relax under his hand as he reached for the needle. his fingers were steady as he hovered over your cunt, watching the goosebumps on your thighs at the feeling of his warmth breath against your skin and wet pussy.

a smirk etched on his face as he mumbled a countdown before plunging the needle into your sensitive flesh, expertly piercing it as he felt your body shudder under his hands. the involuntary moan that slipped past your lips was better music to his ears than the band that blasted over the speakers, and it didn't take an expert to know the piercing had given you an orgasm—that he had made you come so easily.

he shushed you, now adding the little jewelry as his thumb caressed your inner thigh, that trembled under his palm, to distract you as he grabbed another little sanitization cloth to clean up any blood spilt.

he let you sit like that, panties pulled to the side in consideration of the new sensitivity to your poor clit—though you weren't sure the cold air that blew against your sopping cunt would've been better or worse than having put your panties back on properly. he stood up and peeled the gloves from his hands.

he watched the way your chest heaved up and down, a smug smile still etched his features as he cleaned up the station, a hand on your hip as he caressed your skin softly. soon after, he pulled his hand away and disappeared out of the room, temporarily leaving you alone.

a frown made its way to your face as he left—how rude of him to leave you after he just made you orgasm from a piercing!

but that thought was quickly changed when he reemerged with a cold bottle of water in hand and little package of sweets—he wouldn't tell you that they were originally his so you wouldn't feel bad.

he set them by your head, his hand trailing across your hip before resting on your plush tummy—occasionally slipping further up under your shirt—as he kneaded the fat under his palms, muttering praises to you as you calmed down.

once you did, you slowly sat up and fixed up your panties and shorts, hissing at the sensitive feeling of the fabric rubbing against your flesh, causing his eyes to crease with a smile.

simon picked up the bottle of water again and opened it with ease, holding it out to you to take, which you did. you muttered a small 'thanks' and he just hummed in response as you gulped down nearly the whole bottle.

while you sat, recovered, and ate his sweets, he went over the aftercare for your piercing—he even offered to check up on it himself! how sweet of him, really!

but of course he was sweet with you, considering how much of a doll you were to pierce! and no way would he let you pay, as long as you let him take you out to dinner tonight?

[nochepsicodelica]

"Stop. Moving," Toji groans, sleepily, as he tightens his arms around you and buries his face into your back. This is the third time you try to wake him up by shifting on the bed and he is not having it.

"It's time to wake up, Toji. If you don't want to get up, you can stay here while I go make us breakfast."

Toji hums in disapproval. "What's the point in staying behind if you're not gonna be here? Let's just..." he sighs, nuzzling his face into your back, getting comfy, again. "...stay in bed a little longer. Let me keep you like this for a few more hours- minutes. I said minutes."

"Baby," you say, through a laugh. "It's almost ten. I know that if you could, you would stay in bed all day-"

"We would stay in bed all day," he corrects, his voice a low grumble.

"We would stay in bed all day," you repeat. "But... I want breakfast, and I know you'll want breakfast, too, once you smell all the food. I know how much you love your bacon," you add, trying to persuade him.

"Brunch sounds better," he mutters, stomping on your argument.

"No, breakfast sounds better," you argue, to which he groans, dramatically—almost childishly. "Oh my god, Toji," you say, in utter disbelief of the way he's acting.

"Shh... let's sleep," he murmurs.

You sigh, defeated. "Five minutes. That's all you get. Five more minutes." Toji doesn't even respond, too busy dozing off to make the most of these measly fives minutes, you "generously" offered. And, yes, you were generous, because five minutes became ten minutes, and then fifteen, until you reached the limit you had set—twenty minutes.

After the twenty minutes, you start moving around a little. You flip onto your back to get a look at the sleeping hulk that's been clinging to you. He just adjusts to the new position, not bothered in the slightest as he rests his head on your shoulder.

"Toji," you call, softly, waiting a few seconds to see if he reacts. When his steady breathing is still all you hear, you decide to try again. "Bear," you call, dragging your fingertip along the slope of his nose. "Wake up," you murmur when his brows pull together. "Hi, baby," you coo, smiling when he just blinks his sleep-ridden eyes.

"That didn't feel like five minutes," he mumbles, his voice raspy.

"It was twenty," you respond, a soft laugh following. You press a kiss to the top of his head and watch the way he subtly eases up a little more. The crease between his brows is gone, now. "Let's go have breakfast, alright? Some coffee will do you good."

"Fine," he grumbles, before rising slowly from where he lays on you, like he weighs tons.

You turn over to see the subtle jut of his lips, a small detail that never fails to make you laugh when he doesn't get what he wants.

"What's that thing you always say to me? 'If you keep pouting, I'm gonna kiss you'," you say, mimicking his voice.

"I'm gonna kiss you," he mutters under his breath, like the grumpiest bear.

"Ooo, I'm sooo scared," you say, your voice doused with sarcasm. "Please, don't do it. I definitely don't want you to kiss me," you jest, smiling to yourself as you walk towards the door. Your hand doesn't even reach the doorknob, before you're caged against the wooden slab. Two enormous hands rest on the door, preventing you from getting it open. He's discovered a loophole that gets you to be the one who wants to kiss him.

"Pay the Toji Tax," he murmurs, tiredly.

"Now, why would I do that? I haven't asked you for help with anything," you argue.

"You need my help getting the door open," he says, matter-of-factly.

"I don't need your help getting the door open. You just need to move out of the way so that I can open it."

"So, ask me to move. Simple, no?"

"Can you pretty please, with a cherry on top move so that I can open the door and make us breakfast?" You plead, your voice monotonous.

"Sure, for three kisses," he says, naming his price.

"It's unfair to Toji Tax me when you're the one keeping both of us from getting out."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but you either pay the price or you rot in here with me until your precious little breakfast time turns into brunch, or even lunch time. Hell, dinner time might even roll around."

You turn around, slowly, your expression contemplative. A hum, just as mindful, reaches Toji's ears.

"You'd starve both of us for three kisses?" You question, your expression unchanging from its depiction of disbelief.

"Shamelessly and repeatedly. You wanna make it seem like kissing me is a job, I can play along and treat it that way. You can't go until you finish your task, and if you do it wrong, you get to do it again."

"Tojiii," you whine.

"Babyyy," he mocks, smirking at your rising impatience.

"Fine," you agree, bending to his will. You reach out to cup his face, but Toji takes a step back before you can touch him.

"What did I just say about getting it wrong? You really don't wanna kiss me, do you?"

"I do," you argue.

"Well, it doesn't feel like it. Seems like you just wanna get it over with so that i'll let you open the door."

"I'm sorry. I do wanna kiss you."

"How bad?" He pokes, loving the way you tilt your head, your expression unamused. "Plead your case, ma. How bad do you wanna kiss me?"

"So bad," you utter.

"Don't believe it," he responds, not moved enough by your words.

"Toji, I wanna kiss you so bad," you repeat.

"No, you don't," he denies. "I'm not feeling how much you wanna kiss me."

"Baby," you start, your voice exaggeratedly sentimental, your gaze filled with a saccharine amount of love. "I wanna kiss you so damn bad. It's not even funny."

"The way you're making it up is funny, though," he fires back. He's having a ball with this, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from cracking. Then, he sees you powering up, getting ready to go full siren. "You got it," he says, encouraging your theatrics.

With a deep inhale, the show commences.

"Pleaseeee! Oh god, please, please, the prettiest of pleases," you cry out. "If you love me—shit—if you value puppy lives... Oh my goodness, I can't even get it out. It's... it's too much. My desire-" you break out of your own drama scene to release a cackle at your word choice. "My... desire to kiss you..." you press your lips together, finding it difficult to hold it together when you see how entertained Toji looks. You use it to your advantage, adding a little head shake and dragging yourself down on the door, appearing to have crumbled to the ground. "I can't contain it. I just... I can't. Please," you whisper, weakly, looking up at Toji, pathetically, from where you sit on the floor.

Toji is very familiar with your dramatic fits, but this one takes the cake. You stunned him for a solid ten seconds. He peers down at you, his hands still planted on the door.

"And you called me dramatic earlier. Did you hear yourself just now? All that for some kisses?"

"Not just any kisses. Your kisses," you respond, with a satisfied smile and a nod.

"Get up," he commands, offering you his hands for assistance in standing up. You take them and push yourself up and off the ground, smiling softly when your hands remain in Toji's. He loves when you look at him like that—with your eyes all shiny and that smile on your lips that expresses the joy you find in these ridiculous moments with him. In one fell swoop, you pull his arms around you and reciprocate the gesture, giving him a big squeeze. Obviously, to him, it's anything but a big squeeze, but it brings a smile to his face anyway.

"Please, let me make you breakfast," you plead.

"You still have to kiss me," he insists.

You smile as you take half a step back to be able to see him. Stubborn as ever, he still really wants his kisses.

"Come here, baby," you call, your voice so sweet that it's almost a coo. You outstretch your hands in preparation for cupping his cheeks.

"Mmm... I like that," he murmurs, lips pulled into a smirk as he tightens his arms around you a little more and starts leaning in. "Three kisses, pretty, but you know I won't complain if you want to give me more."

"We'll see," you tease, smiling as your lips connect for the first kiss. Your hands gently mold into the softness of his cheeks, your fingertips grazing his jaw. It's soft, sweet, a little impatient on both ends, but controlled for the most part. Like you're kissing without a limit, that second kiss is easily melted into and attained, leading you to the third and supposed final one.

Once that one concludes, you decide to be nice and reward him with a bonus kiss. This one lasts longer, and you hum into it, like kissing him is your favorite thing to do in the world. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks a couple times, before you release him with a loud "mmmwah!" and step back, releasing an irrepressible giggle.

"Give me another one, just like that," he requests, taking that step towards you, again. "Come on," he pleads, grabbing your hands and pulling them up to place them on his face. "One more, doll?" His hands lower to your waist, and when you smile and roll your eyes, he knows he's won.

"Alright, only one more, bear," you comply, standing on your tippy toes to meet his lips one. last. time.

Once your lips brush against his, you hold them there for a few seconds. No movement, nothing crazy, just warm softness. You can feel yourself wanting to laugh, but you hold it together for a few a couple more seconds. After you do the same "mmmwah!" sound, you finally let your soft laugh out.

Toji smirks, his gaze darting between your eyes and the lips he just kissed, as he unwinds his arms from your waist and steps back, giving you the space to open the door and let both of you out.

"Toji Tax paid. You can open the door now," he says, grinning contentedly at the way you press your lips together in amusement, before turning around and pulling the door open.

Breakfast would be yet another task and a half for you to complete. With Toji trailing back and forth after you in the small kitchen area, refusing to be anywhere you weren't, you're surprised nothing ended up burning.

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

[lymtw]

Miss You Already

"Toji, you do this every time." You have your massive bear of a man clinging to you, watching you through the mirror on your vanity as you apply lipstick. He watches your fingers mold around the cylindrical make up product, before his attention shifts to the dark, bloody shade of red that you're smearing on your lips.

"Do you really wanna go? You don't have to. You can stay in with me," he suggests, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

You smile at him through the mirror, already noting the subtle longing expression on his face, though, you haven't even left, yet. "I'll be back, baby." You drop the lipstick into your make up bag and zip it up, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror to see if anything needs to be adjusted or tidied up.

"You don't have to go," Toji repeats, slowly dragging a hand up your body to cup your breast. Almost instantly, he feels your nipple harden and press against the material of your dress. "Stay and look pretty, just for me," he murmurs, rubbing the stiffened peak. His other hand pushes up your dress and makes its way between your thighs to tease you over your panties. "I'll take such good care of you. You won't even be bummed about ditching your friends."

You let out a soft sigh, when Toji's fingers apply pressure to your clothed clit, the sultry sound followed by an equally seductive laugh, as you gently pull his hands off of you and turn around to absorb the neediness he's doing a poor job of hiding.

"It's just a couple hours," you assure, but clearly, that's not enough of a reason for Toji to relent, because he wordlessly takes your hand and puts it on his clothed hard on. He moves your hand back and forth over the bulge, not breaking eye contact with you for a second. "I know, honey," you coo. "I'm sorry. I swear, i'll let you do whatever you want to me when I come back, okay? I'll make it up to you."

"No, doll. Please," he almost whines, walking into your embrace and burying his face into your neck. "Stay," he pleads, brushing his lips over your delicate skin. "I want you."

"Baby." You laugh, letting your hands settle on his back.

He's nosing at your neck and your jaw, getting strong whiffs of the pretty scent you spritzed on. "Need you, pretty. Please don't."

You don't know what it is about going out, that turns Toji into the clingiest man ever. Your friends tell you that their partners practically push them out the door and say that it's fine for them to go out, as long as they act responsibly, and yet here you are, fighting for your night out.

"Alright, Toji. Come on," you say, patting his back. He pulls away from you and follows you to the bed. "Sit, baby," you instruct, when he just stands there, staring at you like a dog that's about to be abandoned. He does as you say and sits down on the bed, watching as you climb up and sit on your knees. "Pull it out. Come on, let me see it," you say, with a sly little grin.

He lifts his hips and pulls down the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his drooling cock. He then wraps his hand around the length and smears his oozing precum over it, eliciting a few quiet, low groans. You crawl over to him and straddle his lap, holding his gaze with a soft smile on your face, when his hands go under the skirt of your dress to move your panties aside.

"I know you don't want me to go, baby," you start. His leaking tip meets your warm, soft skin and instantly, a chill runs down his spine. He pushes the tip in and you begin to slowly lower yourself onto him. "I-I know," you utter, trying to keep it together as you take in more and more of him. Once you're fully seated, you let out a sigh, and wrap your arms around his neck, leaning forward to speak softly into his ear. "I'll be back in a couple hours. Before midnight, love." You raise your hips and lower them again, luring a small, but needy groan from him. "You have my location, so you'll be able to see where I am."

"Mhm," Toji hums, dragging his blunt nails up and down your back.

"And you'll know when I'm on my way home," you murmur, kissing his earlobe and giggling at the sight of the lipstick that transferred onto his skin.

"Yeah... That too, mama," he replies. His hands go lower, beneath your dress, again, to rest on your ass for a mere second before he starts rubbing and squeezing it.

"And—fuck, baby—you'll see when i'm right around the corner."

"Twenty s-seconds," he says, breathily, as you leave more kisses on his ear.

"Right, twenty seconds," you say, pressing a kiss to his temple, knowing it'll leave a red lip print behind. "Twenty seconds, and the car-" you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, lured out by the feeling of his fingers reaching your clit and rubbing it. "Fuck," you moan, when he bucks his hips up to meet your movements. "Twenty seconds and the... the car, will be parked in our driveway."

"And then you'll be home," Toji says, certainty riddling the statement.

"Then, I'll be home," you confirm, pressing a kiss beneath his eye, then another one on his cheek. You hear his low chuckles and when you lean back to look at him, he has the most lovestruck expression on his face. "What? You like my kisses?" You ask, reciprocating his loving gaze.

"Your lipstick is smudged," Toji says, his eyes pinpointed to the color that escaped the lines of your lips. You still look gorgeous, even with that slightly messy detail. His breath catches when you roll your hips on him a little faster and lean in to decorate his face with more a your warm, affectionate kisses. "Fucking love your kisses, ma." He can see hints of the color you left on his skin through his peripheral vision and he notices that each time you pull away, you have less color on your lips. By the time you finish covering his face and the side of his neck with kisses, the pigment that once was on your lips, remains as merely a faded blush.

"It's all gone, doll," Toji groans, breathing a little more heavily as you up the pace of your hips one more time. He sounds like he's just as close to his peak as you are.

"I know... It's okay. Do I still look pretty?" You ask, your breathy laugh mingling with the sweetness of your sultry sounds. Without a warning, Toji leans in and kisses you in a manner full of affirmation. He's guiding your hips, assisting you in quickly bouncing up and down his cock, now. Every sound you make is sealed in the kiss and greedily devoured by him, and when you both cum, the kiss gets sloppy and you lose synchronization, leaving both of you to just moan, groan, and pant into each others mouths. The overly tight grip he uses to still your hips to avoid overstimulation, would be painful if you weren't so blissed out by your orgasm.

"Fucking gorgeous," Toji mumbles. He tilts your head slightly to expose the side of your neck and presses gentle kisses along the area, just before sucking on the delicate skin and leaving his own longer lasting mark on you. "There you go, pretty baby. Gave you a little peck, too," he says, after rubbing the small patch of his saliva into the mark.

The sight before you makes a lazy smile curl on your lips. Toji's entire face is scattered with your red kiss prints—even his lips have a slight tint to them. He looks loved, and by the looks of the soft expression on his face, he must feel like it, too.

You slowly lift yourself off of Toji and he fixes your underwear, patting the front, before letting you get off the bed. You head to the bathroom to fetch him a towel, and once you hand it to him, you make your way over to your vanity and use a make up wipe to remove the previous layer of lipstick, so you can reapply a new layer on a clean slate.

You see Toji looking at you from his spot on the bed and smile at him before zipping up your make up bag. Once you feel satisfied with the way you look and you finish buckling the ankle straps of your heels, you go over to Toji to say goodbye.

"You look like Valentine's Day incarnate," you tease, running a thumb over one of the kisses on his cheek. He wants to smile, but all he can think about is how in a minute, you'll be gone and he'll be spending the next few hours alone. You see that same longing look from before return. He looks so soft and it's chipping at your heart, but you can't fall for it. He does this every. time. It's only a couple hours. You'll be back with him before you know it.

"Take a nap or try to sleep through. When I get back and finish dressing down, I'll slide right into bed with you, alright?" You offer him a soft smile, and wait for him to respond so that you can go.

Toji sighs, like it physically pains him to watch you leave. It's not going to be as easy to get to sleep without you. Getting a taste of your loving just made him want you to stay even more, but he knows he can't keep you from spending time with your friends. They don't see you every day, and he does. He wakes up to you every morning, he spends the rest of his day with you when he comes home from work—with the exception of those few times he accepts invites to hang out with his colleagues. Even on those rare occasions, he's never experienced you trying to convince him to stay home, because you know, at the end of the day, he'll take his place next to you in bed. Plus, it's not like you're sleeping over at one of their houses. When you're done hanging out with your friends, you'll come home, and you'll sleep next to him, as always.

"Yeah, okay," Toji says, finally letting up, to avoid holding you back any longer. "Call me for whatever reason. You know you don't need one."

You lean down and leave a dark red kiss on his forehead, then wait for him to meet you halfway for a peck on the lips. "Love you," you murmur.

"Love you, ma," Toji responds, catching one more sweet smile from you, before you leave the bedroom and set out for your night.

[sai-int]

return to sender simon making reader sit on his face despite her lack of experience and fear she'll suffocate him

this one got a little lengthy I fear...

cw: oral (f), face sitting, mdni below the cut

“you sure?”

you’re perched on top of him, straddling his chest as his hands wander along the expansive of your thighs

“i mean—are you seriously sure?”

the overhead light is off, the bedroom dim, lit only by the amber glow of the bedside lamp . simon blinks up at you like you’ve asked him something utterly ridiculous.

“am i sure?” he repeats. sis voice is low and amused, rough at the edges like gravel and thunder. “sweetheart, m’fuckin’ starvin’.”

you let out a nervous little laugh, trying to brush off the fluttering panic in your belly. “i just… i don’t know what im doing, babe.”

his brow furrows—not in frustration, but something gentler. he sits up just enough to brace one arm behind him, the other reaching for you, hand warm on your hip. “y’don’t have to do a thing,” he murmurs. “let me take care of it.”

“i’m not trying to chicken out, i swear—”

“i know, love,” he cuts in. not unkindly. his voice softens, lips brushing your knee as you softly shift. “you’re overthinkin’ again.”

you drop your gaze, fingers fidgeting in the hem of your sleep shirt. “i just… what if i hurt you? i mean—you’re big, si, but i don’t wanna suffocate you or something.”

he blinks, and then—laughs. a deep, hearty sound from his chest that makes your whole face heat up.

“if i die,” he says between chuckles, gripping your waist to draw you closer, “that’s the way i wanna go.”

“simon.”

“‘s true, girl. buried ‘tween these thighs?” he sighs, mock-dreamy, and presses a kiss to the inside of your leg. “hell of a way to go out.”

he’s being sweet, trying to lighten you up—but you’re still hovering there on your knees, skin hot, breath shaky. you know what he’s offering, and you want it, want him, but the vulnerability of it all feels damning.

he sees it. reads you like a map he’s memorized front to back (he has).

“hey.” his voice dips, quieter now, lower. “y’trust me baby?”

you look into those eyes—dark, steady, safe. and you nod.

“then come here, love.” he lies back again, mouth tilted in the smallest, cockiest smile. “sit that pretty cunt on my face like a good girl, yeah?”

your breath catches.

he doesn’t grab. doesn’t yank you down. he waits—patient, confident. like he knows you’ll do it. because he knows you want to. that all your hesitation is just nerves, not refusal.

you ease up toward his shoulders on shaky legs, and his big, calloused hands scrape up your thighs, then under your shirt—palms searing and slow as they spread over your hips and waist.

“c’mon, sweets,” he murmurs, voice like a dark promise. “right here. let me have you.”

you settle just above his mouth, barely letting your weight rest on him, and he growls.

“uh-uh. full weight, y’hear me?” one hand leaves your hip to land a sharp smack to your ass. “sit.”

—as if you’re a dog.

you gasp, lowering until you feel the heat of his mouth on you. his tongue—god. long, wide, confident—sweeps up your folds with a guttural sound like he’s been waiting for this since he first ate you out on your dresser months ago.

it’s overwhelming. wet and messy and so fucking good you forget your own name.

you try to lift off, try to relieve some pressure, but his grip tightens.

“nah” he grunts against you, the vibration making you tremble. “stay down. y’not goin’ anywhere.”

he eats you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. like you’re dinner, dessert, salvation. tongue fucking into your weeping hole, nose brushing your clit, hands bruising on your hips. you’re moaning, writhing like a pornstar as your thighs tremble, but he just keeps going, like a man possessed. like he needs it more than air.

“si—,” you gasp, overwhelmed. “si, baby, i—i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he growls, finally pulling back just enough to speak clearly, chin glistening, eyes wild. “y’ gonna sit pretty and come for me , pup. c’mon, love. come in m’mouth.”

he doesn’t give you time to argue. mouth back on you, rougher now, greedy, tongue circling your clit until your hips stutter and grind and shake—until you're crying out and your whole body goes tight and hot and shattering.

and even then—even then—he doesn’t stop. licks you through it, holds you steady as you fall apart above him, as you drip and leak into his mouth, savoring the sweet, tangy taste of you.

when you finally slump forward, completely spent, he coaxes you off with care—arms wrapping around you as you collapse alongside him. he shifts, flips you onto your back so he’s the one holding you, protective and proud, one hand stroking your hair.

you’re panting. blinking up at the ceiling, dazed and fucked-out and utterly wrecked.

he kisses your temple. his voice is quiet. smug.

“still worried about killing me, sweets?”

[teddybeartoji]

going to the beach with toji and kids for the first time ever. it's only the beginning of your relationship, it's all kind of new – toji doesn't know what's about to hit him. sure, he's seen you with megumi and tsumiki before, but this? this is something else.

not only is his heart doing flips at the sight of the big smiles and the loud bursts of laughter you're managing to pull out of his kids, you're also wearing a fucking bikini. he hasn't seen this much of you before – the furthest you've gone during the late hours of the nights are steamy, handsy makeouts. he did take your shirt off the last time he had you below him but then you were interrupted by the little spiky haired boy, sniffling about a bad dream. after grabbing a blanket to cover you up, toji rested his forehead against your warm skin, grumbling something under his breath before looking up at you with soft eyes. you weren't mad – quite the opposite; you ruffled his hair and cradled his face, a gentle smile splayed on your lips. you pressed a haste kiss to his nose and then ushered him off of you, whispering something about his adorable son. toji scoffed. and smiled to himself.

the bikini. is killing him. he doesn't know what to do with himself. the scene playing in front of him is heart-warming and he should only be thinking about that, but how can he? the material is barely covering anything and you just look so... fucking good.

sitting in the shade, toji let's his head loll back, his eyes closing as he rests his hand over his face with a groan. he can't do it anymore. he's doing brain exercises to not pop the hardest boner of his life and you are not making it any easier when you keep giving him the prettiest smiles. you're happy, the kids are happy – everything should be good, but no – here he is, suffering because his parter looks fucking amazing. the fact that this is even a problem is mind-baffling to him. he is a strong man, no person is going to get to him just by being beauti—

"could you pass me the water, please?"

you're out to get him, he's sure of it.

toji peeks from under his hand and he's immediately blinded by a devil in disguise. the sun shines from behind you like a halo and the grin on your lips reaches behind your ears. sweat coats your skin and it makes toji's mouth salivate. what the fuck are you doing to him? hands on your hips, you stare down at your boyfriend and you give him another second to collect himself before quirking up a brow.

"toji?" you sound like a siren, you're pulling him in with your silky smooth tone. "the water, please?"

the corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile and toji has never moved faster in his entire life. "right."

he reaches for the bottle in the cooler beside him and gives it to you while making sure to look at you in the eyes and nowhere else. it's unbelievably hard – especially when the water starts trickling from the corners of your mouth and down your neck. toji gulps before turning to look at his kids instead. gumi's brows are furrowed as he's building his sandcastle while miki is busy building hers. toji cracks a grin.

"they're so– fucking cute." you whisper when you curse, a playful smile on your lips as you gush about the kids.

you love them so much already and you're glad that they seem to be liking you a lot too. that makes toji very happy; when the kids ask about you when they haven't seen you in a few days, when you do the same – he knows you really might be the one. it's a big thing to say, to even think, but he can't help it. it simply seems... right.

the water bottle hangs in front of his face and he's pulled away from his thoughts again. he goes to grab it and when he does, your free hand reaches out to him. warm finger wrap around his wrist and he melts at the soft, gentle touch. "come play with us."

a groan bubbles from his throat but it couldn't be any further from an annoyed one – you're sweet and you're excited, you're pretty and you're patient; you always welcome him and the kids with open arms and a bright smile. she would've loved you.

he throws the bottle aside and wraps his own hand around your own. "ya wanna play or the kids wanna play?"

his raspy voice and the stupidly handsome smirk he gives you make butterflies bloom and dance in your stomach. he makes you giddy, he makes you happy.

"i wanna play." you tug at him. "and the kids wanna play."

he can't say no to his little blessings and he can't say no to you. maybe running around will help clear his mind from the mischievious thoughts in his head. he doubts it, but he's needs to try.

in one swift move, he pulls your hand to his mouth while pretending to bite you and his eyes fucking twinkle when he sees your cute surprised expression and hears your little gasp. there's a moment, a second of the most comfortable silence before the corners of your lips twitch and you yank away from his hold, booking it towards gumi and miki with a loud cackle as toji pushes off the chair and takes off after you with fast steps.

your cheeks hurt from laughing as you watch toji catch megumi; he lifts gumi up with just one hand while tsumiki tries to poke her dad in the ribs in order for him to let boy go. when he finally lets the kids go... you feel his eyes on you. adrenaline pumps in your veins and you feel like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. you can't stop grinning. he can't either. a pair of arms wrap around your middle and your feet are being lifted up above the ground before you can even react.

while the kids are doubled over, running and stumbling over their own feet, toji growls in your ear. "gotcha."

you will take the next step today. no snotty kid of his will cockblock him again – they will be tired from the day and you will be all his to take care of. he'll show you his appreciation for being so good to him and the kids, for being so kind. and so... fucking hot.

he presses a kiss to your jaw but cringes when gumi and miki dramatically scream 'ew' at him. you feel him getting even warmer, his cheeks heating up and you try to save him by shooing the kids with a laugh. toji is grateful. he's happy that you're here.

[meowdei]

The heater’s out. December’s cold is unforgiving as it seeps between the cracks of your doors and through the windows, forcing you to huddle closer.

Sukuna grunts as your freezing, icy feet press against his calves. “Your feet are fuckin’ cold. Get’em off.”

“No,” you whine, “You’re warm.”

Just to prove your point, you press them harder against his skin, making him hiss in irritation. “Quit it! It’s fucking freezing.”

“Yeah? Why are you wearing nothing but boxers in this cold, then?” You challenge, raising a brow as if you’ve sufficiently turned the tables on him. He glares at you—a bit cutely at that, given that his tussled hair and the blanket tucked beneath his chin both make him look far less intimidating than he hopes.

He pulls his legs away as he mutters, “Because I’m too used to sleeping like this.”

Your feet follow them as they move away from you, pressing them against his heated skin once more stubbornly. “To used to what, sleeping half naked? I wonder what that says about you.”

Money has been tighter. Enough that when you and Sukuna shower together, it really is to save water and not as an excuse for…well, other things. You don’t buy your little goods from the bakery on your way home sometimes anymore. He doesn’t go through his cigarette packs as quickly when stocking up on more isn’t as simple as it used to be. Things aren’t as easy as they used to be, but never hard.

It’s never hard with Sukuna.

Sure, the heater’s out. And December feels like a harsh, unrelenting reminder of that. The apartment is cold, but Sukuna is warmer, so maybe, when you count your blessings, you’re not doing all too bad.

“We should get the damn heating system fixed,” you say softly, smiling as he curls under the blanket further. He glowers over the edge of the comforter, just the tip of his nose peeking out as his muffled reply comes.

“Yeah, as if I hadn’t already thought of that. We ain’t got the funds, idiot.”

“Maybe I can pick up a few more shifts,” you murmur. He frowns at that—because really, that means more late nights where you’re not home where you should be. Safe and sound and not out there.

“Nah,” he mutters, clicking his teeth. You fight back a grin as he pulls you closer and tangles his legs with yours, grimacing when your painfully icy toes torment his poor legs again. This time he lets you, though. “I’ll figure something out.”

“That’s okay. You should use your money to get some clothes, or something. Sleeping naked in winter is not doing you any favors,” you giggle cheekily.

He raises a brow—that familiar, smug, almost nauseatingly handsome smile erupts across his lips as he chuckles lowly. “Yeah? You’re sayin’ you don’t appreciate the view?”

“Well, I guess that would be a pretty harsh loss,” you sigh deeply, pretending to wipe a tear. He rolls his eyes. You wink slyly. Heat trickles along your body from under your ribcage where the heating system could never reach.

“Cheeky, aren’t you?” He says gruffly, and a large hand comes to grab your face gently and press your cheeks together. Your puffed up lips make him crack a small smile.

“Mhm,” you nod, grinning (as much as you can through squeezed cheeks) before offering a muffled reply of, “I keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

“More like on my deathbed,” he snorts.

You don’t answer—it’s too cold to think of a reply right away.

You let out an involuntary shiver as a small wave of frigid, chilly air breezes through the room. You shuffle closer, and his arms are wide and open and waiting. He smells like cologne and coming home. Feels like warm flesh and your favorite place. You lean in and kiss him to share your body heat, pressing your lips against his and letting his tongue invade your mouth briefly. He tastes like mint mingled with cigarette smoke and oddly enough, that’s all you need.

“We kind of suck at this adulting thing,” you whisper as you pull away.

“What gives you that idea?” He hums as rough, callused fingers stroke the skin of your back under your shirt. You shiver again—this time from heat igniting your skin instead of the cold, though.

“We can hardly afford to stay warm,” you shake your head, “What does that say about us?”

“That we’re victims of this stupid fuckin’ economy. They should compensate us for our suffering.”

You roll your eyes and grin. You’re cold, but not devoid of heat. Sukuna is warm, and so are your toes against his calves, and so is that place in your chest that happens to do a squeeze here and there. You think it might be your heart—think he may have found his way to that weird, necessary organ in your body that keeps you going. But the difference is now that he’s here, you’re alive and not just living.

And yeah, the heater’s out. December is as cold as it is every year, and nothing’s going to change that. You can’t make yourself warmer, but you can be cold with Sukuna. That’s more than enough to make things bearable.

“I’ll keep you warm,” you offer, batting your lashes sweetly. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his cheeks in a flurry of kisses.

His face does a small, red flush.

“Quit it,” he snaps. He doesn’t mean it because his arms grip your hips tighter as if to keep you firmly in place. Right there where you are and where you belong and where he needs you to be.

You shouldn’t be anywhere else but here, keeping his body warm in this sorely harsh weather.

“Why? It’s already working—you’re overheating,” you tease.

He pulls the blanket up and between your faces to create a barrier as you come in for the next kiss, and when you laugh, bright and warm, he forgets he was ever cold.

————————————

Wrote this bc my place is freezing. Not because the heater is broken though it’s just because I’m too lazy to get out of bed and turn the heat up so I am suffering the same problem yes, but I do have a solution. That doesn’t mean the solution will be used though. I fear I am but just a girl

[cinnxmxngxrl]

“Too old”

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Part 2 here Joel’s Masterlist here

Summary: You’ve been throwing yourself at Joel Miller for months, even if the answer was always a no. But tonight he comes knocking at your door.

WC: 3k

Warnings: smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, age gap, unprotected piv, oral (f!receiving).

A/N: Just so you know english is not my first language and this is literally my first time writing, so it’s probably terrible but wanted to try anyway. Also this is pretty much all smut without plot.

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“I’m too old for you.”

That was the same bullshit excuse he’d always use. Every single time you tried to make a move, he’d bring up the age difference. You weren’t sure if it was because he was scared of what the people of Jackson would say behind closed doors or if he was worried he wouldn’t be able to keep up with you.

Because yes, he was old—but no other man had ever made you feel so weak in the knees like him. Like that time you saw him fixing one of the fences, flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, those huge arms on full display, veins popping out. Logically, you had to run home to relieve the ache between your thighs, thinking of him. Always of him.

Or that other time, right after winter, when you saw him in his new pants—new for him—legs spread wide as he sat, too preoccupied talking to Tommy for him to notice the way you drooled over the big bulge that the too-tight pants revealed. All you could think about was how it would feel to sit on top of that and ride it until your legs went numb.

“Listen, darlin’, I’m twice your age. It would never work. Just let it go,” he said, shutting you down once again. “Plenty of young men for you here.”

“You know, to me, it sounds like you’re scared,” you shot back. “Scared it might work. Scared you might like it too much.” You took a few steps closer to him, your hand barely brushing his broad chest.

He scoffed, amused as if what you had said was completely ridiculous. “You’re so sure of yourself, huh? I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’d never see you as anything but a kid.”

Now you laughed. “A kid, you say? Then swear to me you’ve never thought about me before going to sleep,” you said, a smile on your face that implied you already knew the answer.

“I’ve never thought about you… in that way.” A lie. You could see right through him, the way he looked away, avoiding your gaze.

You chuckled. “Oh right, of course, you haven’t.” The sarcasm was unmistakable in your voice.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re giving me a goddamn headache.” He said through gritted teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think of young girls in that way.”

“I’m not a young girl, Joel, in case you haven’t noticed.”

And damn if he hadn’t noticed. Of course, he fucking did. He was only a man, for Christ’s sake. He couldn’t help but stare at your ass when you were bending down to pick up tomatoes in the garden, picturing how you’d look bent over his kitchen counter instead, with him fucking you from behind. The truth was that this was his most recurring fantasy on those cold, lonely nights when he had his hand wrapped around his hard cock, imagining bending you over every possible surface, cumming in record time just by thinking about it. He wouldn’t even dare imagine how long he’d last if he were actually inside you.

“Still, you’re too young for me anyway,” he said. More excuses, you thought.

“You’ll change your mind eventually, Joel. I’m gonna enjoy seeing you crawl to me, and I’m gonna be waiting because I’m a very patient woman,” your tone was far too seductive, nearly making him say “fuck it”and give in. “You know where I live, so find me there when you grow the balls to be with me.”

Joel muttered a curse under his breath as he watched you walk away, your head held high and your hips swaying.

That night, he rolled restlessly in bed. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, those beautiful eyes of yours, and oh that mouth that would look so good wrapped around his cock, taking it all in. He couldn’t stop the way his body reacted to those thoughts; he was so fucking hard it was painful. No matter how much he tried to look at the ceiling and think of anything else, nothing worked, and with every passing second he grew more relentless.

“Screw it,” he thought as he stood up from bed, putting on a pair of jeans and a jacket at lightning speed. The town was quiet and empty this late at night as he made his way to your house. He felt stupid; he was an old man. He should know better than to cave in, to knock on your door in the middle of the night because he needed some much-wanted release. But right now, none of that mattered.

A few moments after he knocked on your door, you finally appeared, a knowing smirk on your face. “Oh, Joel, what a surprise.”

He tried hard to swallow the humiliation he felt for being so weak. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, go ahead.” You opened the door for him to enter and led him to your small couch, sitting down and patting the spot next to you.

He had tried really hard not to look at your chest in that skin-tight tank top you were wearing, but when he sat down, his eyes, almost as if they had a mind of their own, traveled down and noticed your hard nipples pushing through the fabric, and he had to suppress a groan from escaping his lips.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you. I—fuck… you don’t leave my mind for a second,” he admitted.

“Well, that’s a start, you know, you finally admitting that you think of me in your bed.” You teased him, trying to make fun of him just for the pleasure of watching him squirm.

He clenched his hands, a useless attempt to restrain himself from pulling you close and kissing you senseless. His eyes roamed over your figure, lingering on your thighs, exposed under those shorts that were way too tiny, and he felt the heat returning to his body.

You noticed the way he was staring, like a wolf examining its prey before pouncing.

“You like what you see, old man?” You couldn’t help but test him; you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

“Don’t be a smartass… I’m a man. Of course, I’m gonna look.” His voice was low with desire.

“Why don’t you come and get a taste then?” you bit your lip as you spoke.

And that was all it took. He finally reached out to you, his fingers slowly running down the soft skin of your arm until they reached your thigh, sending sparks through your body. It was all too much for him; you felt too good under his hands, and he needed more. He desperately needed more, as if it was a matter of life or death.

He leaned closer, so close you could feel each other’s breaths, smell each other’s shampoo, so close you could almost taste each other.

“Fucking finally,” you whispered into his mouth, teasing him one last time before Joel lost the last shred of restraint he had left in his body. He closed the distance and crushed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.

His right hand tangled in your hair, keeping you close as he devoured your mouth with a need you’d never seen before. His other hand was on your hip, pushing you down onto the couch.

He climbed on top of you, his mouth continuing to taste yours as his hands roamed freely over your body, finally finding your breasts. He kneaded your soft flesh, taking your clothed nipple between his fingers and pinching it softly, making you gasp.

His touch was everything you had imagined: rough, passionate, and masculine.

You broke the kiss just when your lungs gave out. If you were wet before, you were soaked now, tugging off his shirt, revealing his toned body.

“Holy fuck, it should be a crime to hide all of this under a shirt,” you muttered, breathless as your hands explored his muscular chest and stomach.

He would’ve laughed, but he was too lost in the moment. His body trembled with pent-up desire and anticipation, which only worsened as he felt your hands over his body.

Joel moved back to your neck, kissing, licking, and nibbling at it with desperation. Then slowly began to move down your body. He wouldn’t let one part of you go without a touch or taste.

He kissed your stomach, making you squirm, but you couldn’t move; his grip on your hips was tight. He only let go to move his hands to the waistband of your shorts, letting out a growl when he finally slid them down your legs—shorts and panties in one go—leaving you completely bare in front of him, spread out and just for him to do whatever he pleased.

Joel pushed your legs wide apart, making room for himself between them. His head was only inches away from your glistening center.

“Are you this fucking wet just from some kisses?” He looked up at your face, noticing the utter desperation in your eyes, almost begging him to do something—anything—to take the ache away from between your legs.

He let out a low laugh as he moved his face closer, his tongue darting out to take a lick of your dripping slit. Joel grunted softly—if heaven had a taste, he was sure it’d taste just like this. His tongue circled your clit with experienced precision, and you couldn’t help the loud whimper that left your lips.

He stopped his ministrations for a second. His warm breath against you.

“Like that, darlin’? Tastes like fucking heaven, this cunt… fucking sweet.” He didn’t give you time to answer as he went right back to work, his tongue moving faster through your folds, drawing delicious circles around your puffed clit as his hand gripped your hips, anchoring you in place and making sure you’d be all bruised tomorrow.

You looked down to see his head buried in between your thighs. He was eating you out like a starved man, like you were the first meal he’d eaten in days, and you could feel how much he was enjoying it—getting off from your pleasure.

Joel had to buckle his hips against the couch trying to find some relief for his aching cock, but hearing you moan and whimper only made him want you more, and so his tongue began to push inside your entrance, deep and slow.

“Oh Joel, yes… yes… don’t stop… just like that.” You cried out, your hand tugging at his hair, trying to hold onto something as he fucked you with his tongue.

It only took a couple more minutes before you let out a loud whimper, cumming around his tongue. He felt it—your spasms, the way your walls clenched around him—and he kept going to help you ride out your orgasm, pulling away only after he had slurped the last of your delicious juices.

You tried to regain your breath after that intense experience, but you got only more turned on as you saw Joel wiping your fluids from his chin and mouth with the back of his hand.

“Oh my god… who taught you how to eat pussy like that?” you asked him, half-joking, half-serious.

He laughed softly, his hands roaming over your body—your thighs, stomach, breasts—squeezing the flesh softly. “Years of experience.” He murmured, leaning closer to your face. “But yours is the best I’ve ever tasted.”

Joel kissed you once again, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, only fueling your desire for him—if it was possible to desire him even more.

“Darlin’, I gotta have you… I need to be inside of you,” he muttered, his voice a silent plea.

“Yes… god… yes, Joel, please,” you whimpered pathetically, and your shaky hands fumbled with his belt, feeling the thick shape of him through his jeans.

He grunted, removing your trembling hands with more urgency. He undid his pants himself with impatience, tugging them down just enough to free his cock

You looked down, and your jaw dropped. That was a gorgeous cock if you ever saw one—big, thick, pushing up against his stomach, the tip glistening with a bead of precum.

“Oh god, Joel,” you breathed out.

“Do you want it?” He pumped his throbbing cock with one hand, feeling like it might explode right now.

“Please, Joel… I need it so much.”

With one hand, he spread your legs wider, and with the other, he took the shaft and guided the tip of his cock right on your wet cunt, dragging it teasingly slow to gather all your slick before positioning it on your entrance.

He took a slow breath to steady himself before finally pushing inside—one big and deep thrust that made you see stars.

You whimpered loud, your body shivering as you felt the way he was stretching you open. He gave you one second to adjust to his size before he pulled all the way back, just to slam into you harder this time.

He was so big, bigger than any other guy you’d been with before, it stung for a moment, but the pleasure swallowed the pain whole.

“Holy fuck, how are you this tight?” he groaned as he squeezed his eyes closed just for a second so he wouldn’t lose it. “I swear this cunt was made for me… made to take this cock.”

Joel began to move, his pace completely relentless and unforgiving, each thrust, each roll of his hips, making him go deeper inside of you. His hands kept moving all over your body, gripping you like he needed to brand every inch of you as his.

“Oh Joel… feels so good,” you said between moans. “Please don’t stop… keep going… harder.”

His hands moved to the back of your thighs and maneuvered your legs so they were hooked over his shoulders, this new angle allowing him to dive deeper into you—so deep you could feel him pressing against your cervix, and your moans became cries of pure pleasure.

You’d never seen a man in such a state—completely animalistic, possessed, in the way he moved, almost violently, and in the sounds he let out of his mouth: growls and groans proper of a wild animal.

“Cum for me… need to feel you cum on my cock,” he almost begged with his ragged voice. “Need to feel that pretty pussy squeezing me so tight.”

Joel’s hand made its way in between your bodies, and his thick fingers found your bundle of nerves, tracing hard circles around it, the pace of his thrusts never slowing.

You felt the tears in your eyes, completely overstimulated by his cock and fingers both working in unison to get you there again.

“I’m—oh Joel… I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” you sobbed, tears falling down your cheeks. Joel felt the way you clenched around his cock as you came, and it was the most delightful sensation he’d ever experienced.

He felt his own climax approaching. He wasn’t even sure how he managed to last so long when you felt so incredibly good—he definitely deserved a prize for that.

“Oh yes, darlin’… feels so good cumming for me like that.”

God knows there was nothing he wanted more in this moment than to cum inside of you, painting your insides white and filling you up with his seed until it was dripping out of your cunt. But he knew he couldn’t. So, with the last ounce of self restraint he had left, he managed to pull out, his hand wrapping around his cock as he stroked it—one, two, three times—then he let out a groan that sounded like a wounded animal, and his cum shot out of him, hot and thick now coating your lower stomach in creamy white.

He stared at the sight, admiring his artwork for a second before he collapsed next to you on your couch, completely spent and feeling hazy after the intense pleasure he had experienced. His only thought in mind was how he wanted to do this again, and again, and again.

Joel buried his head in your neck, nuzzling it as he tried to calm himself down and catch his breath again. “You alright?” he asked, his soft voice contrasting with how intense it sounded before.

“I’m better than alright… shit… that was…” You struggled to find words that described how amazing it all felt, to finally have him after so much time of fantasizing about him—and realizing that he was even better than you had expected.

“I know,” he said on your neck, as if he was thinking the same things you were thinking. His hand roaming over your body, not with intense passion like before, but with a tender and soft touch to give you comfort after the intense moments of pleasure you both shared.

“How long was it since you last did this?” You knew you probably shouldn’t ask, especially since he was always so reserved, but it was a question that had been in your mind for a long time.

He sighed, and you could feel how his body tensed. Not because he struggled with being honest with you, but because the answer reminded him of how long he’d forced himself to be alone. He was quiet for a few moments. “A long time…”

You already assumed it had to be a long time. “Very specific, like always.”

He grunted, and you could notice he was slightly annoyed by your insistence. “It’s been… years,” he admitted. He’d had needs, sure, but the vulnerability of sex—the intimacy of it—was something he hadn’t allowed himself in a very long time. Not until you.

“And… did you enjoy it? Now, I mean—was it good for you?” Yes, you knew that he came, but after many years without having sex, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was what he expected.

He chuckled at your question, like you had asked the most stupid thing. He pulled you closer, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Of course I enjoyed it. I’d have to be dead not to.”

“Good, ’cause I did too.” You smiled softly, your voice just barely above a whisper.

He held you tight against his body, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the feeling of you pressed against him and the warmth of your body. Wondering if this could be the beginning of something—if he could allow himself to love and be loved again.

Part 2 here

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

[bbokicidal]

[REUPLOAD] skz + head [giving + receiving]

warnings : oral, obviously.

notes : if they prefer receiving or giving head, how they do it, etc!! a reupload from my old blog !!

chris : prefers giving

eats that pussy like it's his last fucking meal. gently, of course. but he's 100% going to be fucking his tongue into you until you're almost crying. it'll be the most blissful thing you've ever felt - and part of you prefers his mouth to his cock just because of how much passion he puts into it. of course, sex in general is great with him. he's just the type to put his full attention into making you feel good when he's got your hips pinned against the bed and his head is stuffed between your legs.

loves it when you suck his cock. his favorite place to have you do it is the studio, because he knows if he asks nicely you'll come running to him after a long day of working and you'll sit right under the desk while he works. it eases him, relaxes him some. he still may not sleep a whole lot those nights but he's feeling a lot better by the next day - especially if you wake him up with some banger head, too. (also the type to hold the back of your head and force your nose to his pelvis a few times just to feel your throat oops.)

minho : prefers receiving

he definitely likes eating you out. he's the type to like, sit up on his knees and drag your lower half up with him though, your shoulders pushed into the bed and neck cramping. the pain mixed with the pleasure from his tongue is perfect, either way. he loves seeing you unable to squirm, dark eyes staring down at you, lidded and warm with lust as you make a mess of his mouth.

he loooooves when you give him head though. give him head? let him use your head. he'll let you start off at your own pace while he sits on the couch and scrolls on his phone, one hand keeping your hair out of your face so you're comfortable. but it always, always ends with him fucking into your mouth and throat and holding your head with both hands to keep you still. he thrives off the wet noises that come from you.

changbin : prefers receiving

will absolutely wake you up by eating you out - with your explicit consent prior, of course. he adores waking up early mornings and seeing you all curled up and squirming because of a dream about him. he loves rolling you onto your back and letting you wake up to see him under the blankets, hands splayed over the soft warmth of your sides before one trails down to let his thumb brush over your clit. he's so gentle when he eats you out - he's there to worship, baby.

will melt when you give him head. will literally pool in his studio chair when you sit on the coffee table and lean in to take him in your mouth. his head'll drop back, he'll let his hands grip at the arms of the chair. he'll refuse to touch you because he knows you'll ruin him the way you want on your own. it's gold to see, truly. his ears getting all pink. ugh. he's a sucker for your mouth.

i'm also a firm believer that binnie shoots fucking ropes, so take that as you will. (will fill your throat with cum, absolutely.)

hyunjin : prefers giving

he thinks you're like the most beautiful piece of art on earth. you're so gorgeous when you're squirming and writhing on the dressing room couch, hips perched up on the arm of the sofa while he kneels nearby and buries his face in your pussy. he's weak for you, absolutely - so desperately weak. he loves hearing your sounds for him. he loves the idea of the others hearing you from the locked dressing room - he loves the idea of someone walking in and joining. yeah, he just wants them to see how he gets you whining.

not a huge fan of receiving head just because he'd much, much rather be eating you out instead. he thinks you're too pretty to be on your knees, but when you are you can bet he will absolutely be looking down at you with his hair falling over his eyes and sticking to his face. motherfucker is gonna be dripping sweat just from the way you make him feel.

jisung : prefers giving

lazy eater. not bad, by any means - just lazy. he likes to lay between your legs while the two of you are lounging watching a movie (probably HMC.) and just casually eat you out. you won't be squirming or whining or gasping for breath - you'll just be smiling, moaning here and there and combing your hand through his hair while his tongue slips over your folds just the way you like. he'll let his thumbs massage over your clit as his hands rest on your hips, breathing heavy and big eyes focused on the television. he just likes doing it so casually, but there's always a massive wet spot on the sofa after because he'll sit there for hours just doing it and letting spit drop.

another one who doesn't really like making you get on your knees for him - but the occasional blowjob won't upset him. he likes when you have him squirming in bed, holding his thighs open so he doesn't close them on your shoulders or choke you out - not that you'd complain about dying there. he's the type to get reaaaal loud and whimpery.

felix : prefers giving

messy, messy boy. i have a feeling he's the type to spit on your pussy and then lick it up or push it into you with his tongue, and he's the type to get you to squirt. he will not stop until you're making an absolute mess of your bedsheets, but he will of course take care of it all after and make sure you're comfortable immediately. he's the type to leave bruises on your hips from his rings digging in.

likes head every so often - another one, i know i know, who doesn't prefer it but doesn't mind. he's pretty casual about it, rocking his hips into your mouth and breathing hard when you take him into your throat. he likes to cum on your face, rather than in your mouth - because again, he likes the mess, and likes the image of you with his cum just painting your pink cheeks and puffy lips.

seungmin : prefers receiving

another one who just eats that pussy like it's his last meal. he prefers you giving him head instead but he's going to make this shit good, holding you down and sucking on your clit until you're actually crying. he's a bit mean in bed, slapping your ass and maybe even spanking your pussy when you get too wiggly on the bed.

is all too casual, sort of like minho. he'll sit there and just comb your hair back, let you lay on the sofa with your feet kicking while you keep him in your mouth. you're comfortable, he's comfortable - he's also taking a few short videos to send to the groupchat so the others know why he's a little late to practice. you're his main priority and he prefers being with you anyways. but yes, he's definitely got at least 30 different videos in an album of you sucking his cock in multiple locations.

jeongin : prefers giving

mo. ther. fucker. the ONLY one out of the boys to use his fingers when he eats you out - deserves to be in the hall of fame. have you seen his hands?? (guilty, oops.) he will absolutely be pushing two fingers into your cunt while he eats you out, sucking and nibbling and licking long stripes over your slit and clit until you're whining loud. he'll only eat you out in his bedroom - because he loves rubbing it in his hyung's faces that he can make you feel this way.

will only let you give him head IF you're in the car. roadhead. he figured out he reaaaaally liked it after you offered it up once when he got his license. he absolutely said yes, and at first was a bit shaky but now he's a pro at keeping a straight face. one hand'll be holding your hair back while the other grips at the wheel tight, white-knuckled and chewing on the inside of his lip as he drives. if you ask really nicely, he'll even let you do it while seungmin is in the backseat.

Taglist :  @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @vanillacupcakefrosting

[sparkleyun]

Backshots with bf!enha

pairing: hyung line x fem!reader genre: smut (MDNI), fluff if you squint... warnings: hair pulling, unprotected sex, light choking, jealousy/rough sex, kitchen sex, fingering, public sex, marking, creampie like literally for all of them because I'm ovulating wc: 4.1k

Heeseung ♡༉‧₊˚.

The bright sun dipped low over the shoreline, casting a soft glow over you and Heeseung's entwined figures, seated near the edge of the water. Your hair was disheveled from the salty breeze as you knealed on the sandy surface.

You squint against the light, your sunglasses sliding halfway down your nose. "Babe, can you take these off for me? My hands are gross." You say as you shake your hands from the mix of sea water and sand.

He leans in with a small smile, brushing strands of your messy hair away from your face. His fingers graze behind your ears as he lifts your sunglasses off, but they catch slightly in your hair, tugging just enough to elicit a sound from you. A soft whimper that made him freeze in his tracks the moment it left your lips.

"Sorry," he murmurs as you try to keep yourself together, feeling your cheeks warm up. You shake your head, playing it off and he doesn't mention it again, at least not out loud.

The drive home is quiet, a little too quiet. The moment kept replaying in his head, the way your face contorted, the breathy whimper...it was driving him crazy. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, you could see the way his jaw clenched and how he avoids looking at you at all costs.

When you arrive home, he opens the door for you like usual, patient and gentle, but the moment the door shuts behind you his hands find your hips, needily pulling you against him. You open your mouth to say something but before you can he bends you over the armrest of the couch, guiding you forward with a hand on your back.

His free hand tangles in your hair, making you gasp as your eyes flew wide open. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He leans down, lips brushing past the sensitive skin of your neck.

His hands slide along your sides, fingers dragging up under your shirt until you're practically melting beneath him. You tried to respond again, but your words stop as he gently presses you forward.

His fingers find your hair once again, curling around the strands. "I need to hear those pretty little noises again. Been playing in my mind the whole ride home." He tugs gently and your back arches, pressing your hips more firmly against his.

He pushes his hips forward, letting you feel his hard length through his jean shorts. The sensation makes your toes curl, a soft moan escaping your lips. "That's it, just like that." he praises. With that, he reaches down to undo the button of his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. Shortly after he discards his clothing, he pulls down your shorts, and moves your panties aside, brushing his fingers against your folds.

"You're enjoying this as much as I am, huh?" He says as he feels your wetness. He positions himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging against your slick heat. His grip in your hair tightens, another soft tug as he starts to push forward.

"That's my girl...so perfect for me." he murmurs, slowly filling you up inch by inch. His hips begin to roll in a steady rythm and his grip on your hair tightens as he picks up the pace. Your fingers scrabble against the soft fabric of the couch, grip tightening from the overwhelming pleasure of his length hitting the bests spots deep inside you. He groans as sounds spill from your lips uncontrollably, soft moans, breathless gasps, even a choked cry or two when he remembers to tug at your hair again.

"Fuck, yes...y/n I'm close..." His voice is strained, each word punctuated by the sound of skin slapping. He leans down to nip at your neck, soothing the sting with soft kisses. One hand leaves your hip to slip underneath your shirt, squeezing the soft swell of your breast. His thumb finds your nipple, circling the hardened peak before pinching lightly, making you see stars.

He pants against your neck as he feels himself getting closer. "Go on baby, come for me." He says, changing the angle slightly, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. With a prolonged moan, your orgasm crashes through you. He groans deeply, hips stuttering as he feels you come undone, which triggered his own release to spill deep inside you with a low moan of your name.

He collapses against your back, breathing raggedly, one hand still gripping your hair, the other splayed across your chest. He presses soft kisses along your neck and shoulders as you both come down from the high.

Jay ♡༉‧₊˚.

The warm light of the early morning floods the kitchen of the apartment you share with your boyfriend, Jay. You're standing barefoot on the cool tiles, fingers sticky with batter as you were cooking breakfast together on a warm summer morning. The fabric of your thin pajamas cling onto your curves, giving tantalizing glimpses of the skin underneath. Jay hasn't said anything about it, but you've caught his eyes lingering more than once.

He tried to focus on cracking eggs into a bowl, but his hands were shaking slightly, distracted by the alluring sight of his girlfriend. You acted oblivious to the effect you were having on him, humming happily as you reach up to grab a plate from the cabinet.

"You know, you always make that face when you cook," you say with a giggle, nudging his side with your elbow as you notice him focusing extra hard on his task. "Concentrated, very serious, like your life depends on whatever you're making."

He glances at you, eyes trailing down just a bit too long on your figure. "Well sorry for wanting to make good food for my wonderful girlfriend," he says with a sarcastic tone. "While she's busy distracting me." he says, his voice low almost as if he didn't want you to hear him.

You arch an eyebrow. "Distracting you with what?"

He doesn't answer right away, but his hand lingers at the small of your back as he shifts behind you to grab a plate. "You know what." You pause for a second, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but you turn back to the counter, grabbing something which doesn't go unnoticed by his burning gaze as your top rides up a little when you reach forward.

"You're doing that on purpose." He murmurs behind you. "Doing what?" You ask purposefully to get a rise out of him. He steps closer, chest brushing against your shoulder as his hands cage you on either side of the counter. "You're so lucky that I have amazing self control" he says in a low tone.

You don't move at first, you just let him hover behind you, close enough to feel his breath on the side of your neck. "Amazing self control? Yeah, right." You respond teasingly. He moves closer to you, his body down fully pressed against his as he whispers in your ear. "It's taking everything in me not to bend you over this counter and fuck you so good you forget your own name," he pauses. "Especially when you walk around like this." He says as he feels the fabric of your shorts.

He spins you around and kisses you desperately, his hands exploring your body with need. You pull away from the kiss breathlessly. "The eggs are still on." He lets out a groan and looks into your eyes. "Forget the damn eggs."

He kisses you again, this time more deeply and passionately. Your fingers find his waist and you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. When he pulls back, just enough to look at you he speaks in between breaths. "You drive me insane y/n."

You turn back around, taking the eggs out of the pan with a smile, but as soon as you set down the plate he bends you over the cold marble countertop, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of your pajamas. You gasp as your nipples harden from the sudden change in temperature, and he presses himself against your ass, letting you feel his growing arousal through his pajama pants.

One of his hands slid up to cup your breast undearneath your top, his thumb flicking over the stiff peak. His other hand drifted lower, slipping beneath the hem of your shorts to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you needed him the most.

"Jay..." You breathe out, arching your back against him. He silenced you with a deep, passionate kiss as his hands traveled to your clothed core, toying with the flimsy fabric of your panties. He rubbed his fingers against your clothed slit, feeling just how soaked you were.

Your hips bucked against his teasing touch as his fingers find your clit through the damp fabric, rubbing in firm circles. You could feel his hard length throbbing insistently against your rear, and you reach back with a trembling hand to palm his erection, squeezing and stroking him through his pants.

Jay groans against your neck, his hips jerking forward to grind harder against your ass. He nipped at your neck, sucking the sensitive skin enough to leave a mark. "Fuck, you're so wet already." He panted, pushing two fingers inside you and curling them while his thumb flicked rapidly over your clit. "I need to be inside you baby..."

You sigh disappointingly at the loss as he withdraws his fingers but your sigh was quickly replaced by a sharp gasp as he removes your flimsy pajama top, his hands sliding down to your hips tauntingly until they reach the waistband of your shorts, which he tugged down with one swift motion along with your underwear.

Jay drank in the sight of your bare body splayed out over the counter, his eyes dark with lust. He pushed your legs apart after removing his pajama pants, rubbing his length through your soaked folds. You whimpered and tried to push back against him, aching to feel him inside you.

"Please Jay..." You begged, your voice trembling with need. He didn't need to be told twice. With a grunt, he thrusts forward, burying himself inside your dripping heat. You both cried out in pleasure, your back arching as you felt the stretch. He stilled for a moment, savoring the feeling of your walls fluttering against him.

Then, he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you, before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt once more. He set a hard, fast pace, the force of his thrusts making you lose your balance, You hold onto the cold marble while attempting to push your hips back to meet every snap of his hips.

He could feel you tightening around his length, reaching around to rub your clit in fast circles as his desire to feel you come undone around his dick grew. With a sharp cry, your back arched almost painfully, his deep thrusts making your vision go blank.

The sensation was almost too much for Jay. With a low moan of profanity he slammed into you one more time before spilling himself inside you. You btoh catch your breaths as you come down from your highs, and after a long moment, Jay lifted his head to press a tender kiss to your back. He nuzzled into your neck, taking your lips in a gentle kiss. "I love you." He whispered against your lips.

Jake ♡༉‧₊˚.

The living room is quiet except for the occasional flip of a page and the steady scratching of pencils on paper. You're lounging on the plush rug, legs folded beneath you, surrounded by open textbooks and scattered notes. Jake sits across from you, equally engrossed in his studies. His brows furrowed as he explains something about formulas or concepts you’re simply nodding along to.

The fabric of your top shifts subtly as you lean forward to reach for a highlighter, and you don't miss the way his breath hitches in between his words for half a second. But he keeps going.

You're wearing a top that's more comfort than coverage, a little loose around the edges but still hugging your body in all the right spots. You didn't bother with anything underneath, it's your home after all, and it's just the two of you. Jake was respectful, he obviously didn't mind, but it was the way you teased him that started riling him up.

You stretch your arms above your head casually, arching just enough to make the fabric slide a little higher, a little looser. His pencil stills.

"You okay?" You ask innocently.

He exhales slowly. "Yeah. Just... trying to concentrate."

You bite your lip, holding back a smirk. "On what?" you press, leaning forward to "accidentally" drop your pencil. As you bend down to pick it up, you make sure to give him a perfect view of your cleavage, the neckline of your top gaping open.

That's when he breaks. In a flash, he closes the small distance between you two, one hand tilting your face up to his.

His hand hand moves down to rest on your thigh, firm but still gentle, grounding you. His voice drops as he leans in, lips brushing past your ear.

"You've been teasing me for the past hour," he says in a low tone. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

You bite your lip, looking up at him with wide eyes as he pulls away to face you. "I don't know what you mean," you breathe as you press your chest against his. "I'm just trying to focus on the material, like you should be."

"You're impossible," he mutters, before his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss until you're both left breathless.

He breaks away, only to trail his mouth down your throat. You gasp, head falling back to give him better access as he marks your skin.

"Bed," he says against your neck, "now."

Before you can respond, he's standing, scooping you up into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he carries you towards your bed. You look up at him, chest heaving, hair splayed out across the pillow.

Jake hovers over you, eyes darkened with lust. "On your hands and knees," he commands, voice rough and low.

Your heart races before you slowly roll over. The cool sheets brush against your skin as you push yourself up, looking back at him over your shoulder, almost asking for approval.

He's staring at you, taking in the sight of you like this. Messy hair, top riding up, and a blush spreading across your skin. "Just like that."

He moves behind you, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. You feel his hard length pressing against your backside through his sweatpants. He pushes your upper body down until your cheek is pressed against the pillow, your arms laying loosely by your sides.

"Jake," you whimper into the pillow "please..."

"Shh," he soothes, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, "I've got you."

He takes his time, savoring every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants and panties, and with a sharp tug, he yanks them down your legs, leaving you bare and exposed beneath him.

You gasp as the cool air hits your heated skin, a shiver running through you. You feel his eyes on you, taking in the sight of you like this, bent over, just for him to see.

You feel the bed dip as he settles behind you. One hand grips your hip, holding you steady, while the other traces teasingly along your inner thigh. His touch reaches its destination, stroking through your slick folds with a touch so gentle it makes you ache.

You let out a choked moan, pushing your hips back against him, craving more. But he's in control, setting a slow, torturous pace that has you trembling and desperate.

"Jake," you whimper, "please... I need..."

"I know," he interrupts, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, then another to the nape of your neck. "I know exactly what you need baby."

He shifts behind you, and you feel the brush of fabric against your skin as he shoves his pants and boxers down. Then, with a swift thrust of his hips, he's inside you, filling you in one deep stroke.

A cry tears from your throat at the sudden intrusion, your walls clenching around him, drawing him in deeper. He groans a low, guttural sound that sends vibrations through you.

"Fuck, y/n," he breathes out, starting to move, "you feel so good...so perfect."

He sets a relentless pace, one hand gripping your hip, the other reaching around to circle your clit in time with his thrusts. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his grunts.

You're lost in sensation, drowning in the feeling of him moving inside you. Your body responds instinctively to his touch, hips rolling back to meet his every thrust. The coil of tension in your core winds tighter and tighter, your breathing growing ragged as you climb closer to the edge.

"Yes, just like that," he says, his hand resting against your back and pushing you into the mattress as he tries to stabilize himself.

His words, rough and raw with need, are all it takes to push you over. Your walls clamp down around him as your orgasm crashes through you, wave after wave of ecstasy radiating out from your core.

You cry out his name as you shatter in his arms. He follows a moment later, moaning your name as his hips jerk and stutter, filling you with his heat as he rides out the aftershocks.

Finally, he rolls to the side, falling onto the bed and pulling you with him so you're both curled up, a sharp contrast to his earlier movements.

Sunghoon ♡༉‧₊˚.

Sunghoon's hand tightened possessively around your waist as he led you through the crowded party, his eyes flashing with jealousy each time you turned heads in the stunning dress he had gifted you. It started when one guy was flirting with you. Then another offered you a drink with too much eye contact. And while you handled it gracefully and turned them down, you felt his jealously with every passing glance someone else sent your way.

You tug gently at his hand. "You okay?" His jaw flexes, and he leans in, lips brushing your ear. "We need a minute."

Before you can ask where you're going, he's guiding you through the hallway, hand refusing to leave your waist. He finds an empty bathroom, quiet and dim. The door clicks shut behind you. You turn to speak, but he's already brushing his thumb along your jaw, his voice low and steady.

"That dress is going to be the end of me," he says. "You walked into that room like a dream, and all I could think about was how they looked at you. Like you're theirs to look at."

Your breath hitches. The possessiveness in his tone makes your knees feel weak. He kisses you, deep and a little rougher than usual, hands exploring like he can’t bear another second of pretending to be composed. He pushes you until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the sink.

"Turn around," he murmurs, and you do, feeling the hem of your dress slide higher as you brace yourself, forearms resting on the smooth surface.

One hand slid down to grope your breast roughly through the fabric of your dress, kneading the soft flesh, while the other hand moved to your throat.

He bites and sucks at the sensitive skin of your neck, determined to mark you. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, you were his girlfriend and he's the only one who will ever have you like this. "Mine," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "Say it, y/n. Tell me you're mine."

His hips grind against yours, the evidence of his arousal impossible to miss. You gasped as his teeth sank into the tender flesh of your neck, a jolt of pained pleasure shooting through you.

"Yours," you whimpered, tilting your head to give him better access. "I'm yours, Sunghoon. Only yours." His hands scrambled at his shirt, tugging at the buttons impatiently. He needed to feel his skin against yours, needed to be as close to you as possible.

He pulled the fabric of your dress up, bunching it at your hips as he pushed you against the cold sink. He kissed you again, hard and deep as his hands roamed over every inch of exposed skin. He squeezed your breasts, fingers trailing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress until they were stiff peaks. His hand slid down to the waistband of your panties, slipping inside to cup your soaking heat.

He groaned, feeling the slick heat of your arousal. He rubbed at your clit with the pad of his thumb, circling the sensitive nub, making you writhe beneath him. "All this for me pretty girl?"

He sat back just long enough to shed his clothes, revealing his lean, muscular body. Then he was all over you again, settling between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. "I'm gonna make you scream my name. I want everyone to know you're mine."

His hand slid around to the front of your throat, wrapping loosely but firmly, while the other hand pushed your panties aside. He rubbed his fingers through your slick folds, feeling how wet you were before pushing two digits inside you.

He pumped them in and out roughly as his thumb circled your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in harsh strokes. At the same time, he rolled his hips, grinding his hard cock against your ass, letting you feel how badly he needed you.

He removed his fingers from your dripping core, only to replace them with the thick head of his cock. With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside you, not stopping until he was hilted deep, stretching you around his thick girth.

He pounded into you hard and fast, the obscene sound of skin slapping echoing through the small room. One hand gripped your hip, holding you in place while the other hand tightened around your throat.

"I'm yours, Sunghoon. All yours. Please... harder." You say in between breaths, unable to complete a sentence as his hand was wrapped around your throat.

He listened to your plea, forcing your legs open as he thrusted deeper into you. He could feel your tight walls clenching around him at the change of pace.

His other hand slid around to tug at your dress, pulling it down to have better access to your breast, squeezing the soft mound roughly. He knew he was being a little too harsh, but he couldn't help it. The jealousy consumed him, and you clearly loved it too.

You could only moan and whimper beneath him, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. "Yes, yes, yours," you babbled mindlessly, pushing your hips back to meet his brutal thrusts."Only yours, Sunghoon. Forever yours."

He could feel your climax building. His cock was hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust, sending sparks of ecstasy through your body.

"I'm... I'm going to... " you cried out, unable to finish your sentence as your orgasm crashed over, making you see stars and your body shaking and trembling beneath his.

Sunghoon fucked you through your high, prolonging it, drawing it out until you were nothing but a shuddering mess beneath him. Only then did he let himself go with a low groan of your name. He buried himself as deep as he could go, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he emptied himself inside you.

As your breathing slowly returned to normal, Sunghoon reluctantly pulled out and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, in stark contrast to the brutal fucking he'd just given you. His hands moved gently over your curves as if trying to soothe the bruises he'd left on your skin. "Are you alright sweetheart?" He asked in a genuine, caring tone.

You nod in return, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. He fixed your dress and your hair with delicate touch, trying to make up for his earlier actions. After a long moment, he took your hand and led you out of the bathroom and back into the loud party. A few people glanced your way, noticing your rumpled appearances and the marks on your neck. Sunghoon just smirked, giving you a possessive squeeze around the waist.

A/N: Returning with a banger (I hope) since i got requests for Sunghoon AND Jay backshots I was like hmmm might as well write it for all of them right... 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 hopefully my first time writing smut is good cuz this was A STRUGGLEEEE also if you see any mistakes no you didn't its 3am rn 💔