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#happy birthday to my bby <3
reinersluvrr · 1 year
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I GOT LUCI’S BIRTHDAY CARD <33 LOOK AT HIM!!!
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kliqrulez · 2 months
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Happy Birthday to the King of Kings 👑👑👑
My greatest love (after Shawn ofc). This man is my absolute favorite asshole ever. He’s so fucking funny when he’s pissed off. l can’t with him sometimes. He’s the king of my heart 💚💚💚
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hokusu · 2 years
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✩ Happy Birthday Hawks ✩ Dec. 28
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rasafiela · 3 months
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Happy Birthday Hyde!!🧡🍀
Been wanting to draw him w/ his hair covered in clovers, I'm so happy I finally did🥹💕
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charliesimss · 10 months
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Happy 18th Birthday Alistair ❤
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lpa6zn · 1 year
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Its knife wife bday!🥳
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hynjnnie · 11 months
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he's so cute during that live (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)
(my screenshots) ♡
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k-slla · 8 months
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There is some instrumental birthday song playing in the kitchen at my work right now..is that just a coincidence or what??
We don't have any birthdays today, other than our Cutie Pie Dean Winchester. It has to be some kind of sign... anyways...
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Happy Birthday, Dean!🥳
Love you to the Moon and Back!🤍😘
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jeweledflowers · 2 years
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'' 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐝
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝
𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞.
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰,
𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬. ''
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roseadleyn · 2 years
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“ the past never forgets . ”
“ this will just be a signal fire. we'll fill those heroes full of holes… and put them in their place. all for a brighter future . ”
“ is it cuz your students are so precious? hope you got what it takes to protect them… see ya later . ”
“ first thing we have to do, is take away their sense of peace . ”
“ quite worthy of being an instructor at u.a. ain’t that right, hero ? ”
" i’ve seen you in pictures, but I gotta say you’re way grosser in person . ”
“ heroes are forgettable. they try to save the world… but villains are the ones who change it . ”
“ why not get cocky? you’re playing right into our hands. the second you lost the initiative signaled your defeat. you've got the top hero-training academy, u.a., and the symbol of peace, all might… the two most trusted foundations of our hero-based society. but now one mess after another is shaking that trust… don’t you think that loss of faith will spread like wildfire throughout society ? ”
“ the league? shigaraki? i never gave a crap about them. a single person with a single conviction has the power to change the world. there are no true heroes. i plan to make stain’s will a reality. see ya, hawks. your life’s another thing i don’t care about.”
“ i have a great name. call me touya.”
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mocha-tapioca · 1 year
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mocha my beloved bestie happy birthday!!! i’m sorry i’m saying it so late but i hope you had an amazing day and i love you sm<3
ITS OKAY THANK U NYX :D
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missydior · 4 months
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love letters ౨ৎ
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♡: an eternity of silent, mutual yearning and friendship that flourishes into something new when feelings are finally confessed.
notes: charles leclerc/reader, friends to lovers, humour, fluff, confessions.
type: smau & writing ・ fc: lila moss
a/n: my favourite trope ever mwah 🤍🤍 this feels a little messy and stuff but I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you feel the love all over it I have, ily
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liked by friendusername, charlesleclerc and 313,983 others
yourusername: hello from the birthday girl here <3 thank you so much for all of the kind messages, wishes & gifts. sending lots of love
3,122 comments
friendusername: happy bday to our favourite girl ever 🍰🫶🏼
yourusername: 🤍🤍🤍
user1: happy birthday to our favourite paddock princessss
charlesleclerc: did you like the cake I bought you then, or?
yourusername: I loved it until you threw half of it in my face
charlesleclerc: it tasted nicer that way
franciscagomes: bday girl !!
yourusername: i love youu
franciscagomes: i love you more 🤍
pierregasly: what about me?
franciscagomes: today is about y/n. shush.
I. Your Birthday.
After hours spent with café au lait and too much maple syrup on pancakes in the morning with gift receiving and wishes, a quiet luncheon with those closest to your heart, enjoying the beauty of the shores and rosé champagne, evening eventually settles in a beautiful colour against the heavens of Monaco.
You have never been one for the dramatics or high attention of crowds, settling on an intimate celebratory affair amongst close friends and family: pretty dresses and glasses of Lavender French '75 or those strawberry daiquiris that Ésme is in love with; a sweet, favourite song heard in the background.
Charles arrives fashionably late, the collar of his white-linen shirt loosened and soft, dark-brunet hair slightly tousled as he comes near, the sight of a smile on his face you've always loved, dimples revealed.
There is a certain relief that comes with being graced by his presence, like you had been silently longing and waiting for his greeting before anybody else's, though you disguise it from any chance of teasing.
"(Y/N)," Your name rolls off his tongue like caramel, accentuated as he shifts to kiss both your cheeks in friendly affection before he chuckles at your expression, "Happy birthday." Mon ange.
"Thank you," You breathe, a laugh falling past your mouth at the sight of him in manifestation, inclining your head when you look at him through your lashes, "I was beginning to think you forgot."
"Forget? Me?" The Monegasque exclaims as though wounded, placing his hand to his chest though the smile about his sun-kissed visage never dissipates, stealing a nearby glass of champagne, "Never. I had some work to finish."
There is an edge of teasing beneath your looks, a dance of butterflies in your stomach when he touches the small of your back fleetingly as he shifts past with that signature wink of his, all friendly and humorous in years of friendship, and yet your heart stutters.
You almost say something else, confessions and thoughts that want to erupt from your chest like love letters you have never sent – certain it is merely the liquor fogging your judgement – but he's wandered away with a final promise before a syllable can come forth.
"Let me get the birthday girl a drink, oui?"
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liked by franciscagomes and 311,646 others
yourusername: july with my favourite people <3
mentioned charlesleclerc, friendusername, franciscagomes and two others
1,354 comments
user1: literal angels
user2: second pic is definitely y/n and charles
friendusername: you still owe me another ice cream 🍨
yourusername: sorry bby, i’ll be at your front door with a double vanilla ice cream soon <3
franciscagomes: 🤍🤍
II. At the beach.
Warm light kisses your skin like heavenly delight, a forgotten copy of Paris' Vogue beside where you are currently bathing with a finished strawberry lemonade, long lashes fluttering when you open your eyes to gaze at the skies above in the heat of July, a mosaic of white and cerulean about the Côte d'Azur.
Most of the others have momentarily departed for the nearby café for new sweet treats, though you are consciously aware of a half-dozing Charles Leclerc nearby against the slight flush down the bridge of his nose and eyelashes that ghost about his cheekbones where he is lying.
Pure bliss; perfect heaven.
"Charles?"
It takes him a second, the mention of his name rousing him to blink out of a hazy hint of a dream with the tilt of his chin towards the direction of your voice that calls to him like an angel's symphony, squinting against the haze of light before a lazy, boyish smile reveals his pearlescent teeth, "Mm?"
Shifting upright, consciously trying not to stare at him for too long though you have come to simply welcome and fall used to the sight of his naked chest, all smooth ridges and lean muscle, you absently adjust the ribbons of your pretty bikini and reach for sun cream.
"Do you think you could help me put some on my back, please?" You ask politely, offering him the item whilst shifting on your knees and gathering the edges of your hair over your shoulder that have fallen loose.
He does not respond initially, not until he's sat upright and shifted closer with a kind edge of a smile that dances across his face, "Oui."
Charles does not hesitate or take advantage of the circumstances, applying the fine lotion against the curve of your shoulders with gentle ministrations and lower down, fingertips feather-light, careful not to linger too long.
The act feels oddly intimate as you gaze towards the serene shores, like his touch is meant for the most secret parts of you, an unconscious shiver and the subtle arching of your vertebrae when he traces a particular area. Whether he notices or not, there is no indication given, instead continuing in a method that seems entirely platonic but leaves an ache in your stomach.
"Merci," You tell him once the deed is most finished and he draws away, shifting just enough to offer a look of him from the corner of your eye in a gratuitous smile.
You wonder if how his gaze lingers is the same way yours does, like a painting worth admiring or a flower in emergence, heart thrumming quicker under your sternum before the moment is broken when he clears his throat.
"Of course."
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III. A dinner.
Caffè Milano, a quaint but fanciful and warm establishment tucked in the quiet luxuries of Monaco's principality with its dancing chandeliers, oak-varnished furniture and beloved menu.
A semblance of familiarity, pleasantry and polished glasses clinking against the rhythm of conversation amongst friends in the warm afternoon: a lingering aroma of roses from the centrepiece décor neatly arranged and fine cuisine.
"– Non, I am not lying," Pierre is recounting a recent, humorous anecdote of experience, thumb idly tracing the edge of his wine glass whilst you and the others listen on, your cheeks beginning to hurt from how much you have laughed in the recent half-an hour, idly toying with the necklace resting at the hollow of your throat in common fashion.
"You are." Francisca frowns, albeit fondly.
Your concentration is removed from their talk when there is a subtle caress against the ankle bone, a touch beneath the furniture and a fleeting glance from your peripheral sight at the Monégasque beside you, all handsome smiles and that addictive song of laughter whilst a stray hair falls about his eyebrow, though he does not seem to show any degree of deliberation or notice that his shoe idly touches you there.
You have the urge to hold him, caress him, to press a thousand, butterfly kisses along his jaw and say something you should not. Instead, you continue to listen and nurse the last of your Château-Chalon.
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f1gossip: y/n at the grand prix this weekend <3 our paddock princess is back
mentioned yourusername
333 comments
user1: she looks divineee
user2: charles and y/n friends to lovers when?
user3: leave them alone, they’re just friends and have been since childhood
IV. A balcony.
Charles had forgotten his keys somewhere and, until his dear brother could come and return them, you had offered the warmth of your welcomed apartment: all minimalist but homely in décor against a palette of cream, white and the like all complemented by paintings and furniture.
One hour had melted into two by the late afternoon with dusk's slow kiss, hints of lilac and grey in the edge of the skies, your cats curled contently on the plush chaise lounge and resting after endless affections from the Monégasque who seemed to be in love with them.
"Can I join you?"
The voice – honest and clear, albeit a fraction amused – is recognisable as you are drawn out of reverie on the balcony of rocaille motifs, gazing into quiet streets below and the nearby public gardens flourishing with flora, gnawing at your inner cheek as you look to the man where he leans against the threshold, a look in his eye that comes with a subtle indulgence after he stole your favourite bottle of rosé in the kitchenette.
"Of course, yes." Always.
He stands beside you, a few inches apart with his elbow resting against the intricate balustrade when he follows your dreamy stare for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. There is a comfort between the two of you, something you know must come from years of familiarity:
An seemingly endless, innocent youth that manifested in its complications as you aged and neared adolescence, like an evening primrose that flowers and sometimes falls apart, but always returns, even changing with senescence. With age.
You can feel his gaze, almost like an internal, silent imploration for your own, the edges of your fingers and nails polished in a rose quartz-esque varnish that glitters prettily in the evening, and his lips are parted just enough as if wanting to say something before they curve a little higher on the edges, his words hushed.
"Have you ever thought about love?"
Your eyebrows raise a fraction, though it is not so unexpected of a question and one that has been on the edge of your tongue since forever, even with the doubtful inkling that he has merely enjoyed too much wine.
"Sometimes," All of the time. You murmur, a soft, breathless chuckle following as you shrug and tilt your head upwards, gazing above like some wished answer or instruction from the angels or whoever listens, "Why do you ask?"
"Because," His response is delayed, though his answer is sincere and thoughtful like he has been thinking over his words since a time he can't remember until his fingertips touch your elbow fleetingly, "I can't stop thinking about it."
There is a moment, a single fragment, in which you meet his eyes, his touch is known and everything seems to pause like a finished painting, a still image in a history book: his hand, his body and his eyes – the colour of autumn, earth, hints of something else so unique to him.
"Charles, what are you saying?" You laugh softly, looking away momentarily and toying with the knitted wool of your soft cardigan with the kind of feigned indifference that comes with disguising truth, "I didn't think you were a romantic, who has caught your eye?"
For a moment, you wish he would say someone's name, a blessed girl that you have never heard of, so that you can deny your own feelings and settle on the painful reality that you are merely friends.
Instead, his gaze flickers, almost nervously, and a palm cradles the curve of your cheek and jaw with the hesitance of a man of conflicting considerations even when he tries to smile a little. "Please, forgive me."
There is not an instance given to allow any insistence or inquiry as Charles presses a kiss upon your mouth: it is not rushed and there is a desperation there that is not greedy, tasting the remnants of your lipstick and rosé, slow and methodical – longer when you indulge and welcome the feeling.
He does not draw away completely when the feeling ends, his forehead lightly pressed to yours and his touch a little firmer where his fingers curl into your hair, swallowing slowly as his eyes close for a moment until he dares meet your stare once more.
"(Y/N)?"
You smile.
"Je t'aime." There is something in his face you have never seen before, something raw and open like an unfurling rose revealing itself, and you know that your heart is his and his alone.
Another kiss with your prompting, fingertips tracing the soft cotton of his shirt near the shoulder until you drape arms about his shoulders, breathing him in with hints of raspberry, amber and cinnamon, "I love you."
There is poetry in his eyes like those unsent love letters shoved under your pillow, and he delves in, holding you close and intimate until you're most certain, mutually, of the silent yearning you have felt for one another for years.
"C'mere," He mumbles, an arm drawing around the back of your thighs as he picks you up and holds you securely, and you cannot help but laugh in pure, unadulterated glee at his touch and affections, the bottle of rosé abandoned as the night settles in and you are whisked away.
He loves you.
He loves you.
♡ ✧ 。*・.
© missydior
a/n: please don't forget to interact, like, etc. <3
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tiredmamaissy · 11 months
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode III
Calm After the Storm
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
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🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, heat cycle, extreme knotting, marking, scenting, territorial/possessive behaviour, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, belly bulge, actual breeding, let me know if I forgot anything?
Word Count: 6.3k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Happy halloween guys! I know I literally fell off the face of the earth and I will make another post to address that. But I know I haven’t participated for @pandoraslxna ‘s kinktober event (I’m so sorry bby) but if I could only participate for one of the days it would be today for sure. So I definitely wanted to get this out before midnight. It’s not purely a/b/o but honestly entails all the aspects of it. I think we can all definitely tell who’s the alpha and omega here (Ralak is alpha material hands down, ofc). I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I apologize for such a wait <3 Also I feel like I’m a bit rusty, so apologies for any typos, errors, or just plain suckish writing.
ALSO a big happy birthday to my babe @neteyamsoare <3 love you and hope it was a good one!!
Synopsis: Your heat starts to subside, but Ralak’s rut is only getting stronger. What could possibly go wrong?
<- Previous -> Next
——
Only an hour has passed before you feel your not-so-gentle giant stirring behind you, waking you from your sleep. You’d both been on your sides for too long now and everywhere seems to ache. You whine when you feel his hips shift against you, tugging at the immense pressure between your hips. The bulge protruding from your lower abdomen has barely gone down and you feel almost as full as you did when he initially emptied his load inside you.
Silken strands of his hair fall onto your prickled skin as he props himself up on his elbow from behind you, perching his chin on your throbbing shoulder. He inhales deeply – longingly. His hot breath gently blows against your neck just as you feel his arm snake under your leg and yank it back in one rough tug.
“Ralak.” His name falls from your lips through a nearly inaudible croak. “‘m so full.” You barely mumble out, rolling your head to the side. Yet, the flame within you is without a doubt reigniting with a vengeance.
And he can sense it.
Simply by the way you push back into him, making that bulge in your belly protrude a little more. His large hand resting on your stomach can indubitably feel it. And the smile that it puts on his face is almost baleful, bearing his lengthy canines that yearn to sink deep into you once more. “Sorry, tìyawn [love].”
He just can’t help it.
No matter how hard he tried. The desire—no, the need—to fuck into you and claim you as his time and time again is… irrepressible. In this moment, nothing else felt better than your little, used cunt hugging his cock so tightly that it almost hurts. He yearns to fill you over and over. Again and again until your womb is overflowing with his seed. The mere thought has his balls pulling tight to his body, firming up by the second all just to flood your womb again.
“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak growls into your neck, sliding his hand down to your inner thigh. “I will try to be–” He groans slowly, his pointer finger now burrowing itself between your tied pelvises, “–flrr [gentle].”
The final accented word comes out roughly, and if it weren’t for his finger slipping past his knot and into your cunt, you would’ve probably heard it clearly. You yelp out when he traces his finger around his knot, stretching your already taut skin, attempting to work a little space to allow his bulge to slip out.
It's all consuming and you’re simply too overwhelmed with his size that you fail to realise how your body is synced with his and bearing down to push him out. All whilst he’s struggling to fight the snap of hips to avoid hurting you. But the tugging is nothing like you’ve felt before adn you can finally understand why he was so insistent in the first place.
ut there was no getting out of this now, not that you even wanted to.
“It–it’s…” You brace yourself by grabbing onto his forearm, “...t-too big.”
“Ngaytxoa [sorry]” He huffs out his fourth apology, losing himself once again as his hips finally jerk back out of his control.
Pop.
His knot slips out of you with such force that the squelch it makes is as loud as your whimper. It’s so wet and slippery that his cock follows behind his knot, sliding out of you effortlessly. He’s more than half-hard yet so heavy and hung it rests close to your knee. Then you feel it. His cum dribbling down your thigh, still warm and sticky as if he just filled you up seconds ago.
It’s such a conflicting feeling — a mixture of relief and pent up frustration. Your heat is still in full bloom, despite it being so quenched until you’re almost nauseated. It’s as if you were two pieces perfectly linked together, allowing nature to run its course with no second thought. He grunts when he feels the crisp night air against his groin, his cock now springing up to its full length in just a few seconds.
He, too, feels some sort of feverish way now. Itching to be back inside your warmth, enveloped by your gummy, slimy walls. He opts to pepper wet kisses along your neck, and then up to your jaw, lingering there as he tries to distract himself from the ache to shove it back inside you.
Until it becomes too much.
“Tanhì.” He moans into your ear, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open as his tongue trails the skin on the back of your neck. “Need you.” It’s his way of begging for permission. Permission to slam his cock back inside you and hammer into you until the annoying itch deep in his core goes away again. You were the only one to make it go away. To stop the hurt. “Please.” He whines out a plea of desperation, now gritting his teeth from the way his stomach is tensing. “Now.”
But that last plea wasn’t much of a question, no. It was more of a demand. A way of saying, ‘give it to me, or I’ll take you on my own terms’.
“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath, sliding your free hand down your side to hook it under your leg. You pull it back and reposition your hips to give him access to your cunt. “P-Put it in, ‘Lak.”
Ralak’s hips begin to stutter — the leaking, mushroomy tip of his cock now repeatedly prodding between your puffed up folds. His breath turns raggedy as he tries to guide himself back inside you handsfree. Your slick is overflowing, making it even more difficult for him to align himself with your entrance. The frustration brewing within him bubbles over when his cockhead glides past your swollen clit instead of sinking in your cunt. So he pulls back in one swift move and —
Thrust.
Your body jolts from how quickly he slams every inch of his cock inside you, forcing you split-open. Ralak huffs a shaky sigh of relief, his breathing growing a little steadier now that he’s deep inside his mate. Meanwhile, your mouth hangs agape yet no sound falls from your lips. Your eyes well up with tears and your ears lay flat against your skull. Your body is in complete submission to the beast dominating it and there’s nothing else you can do but give in to the pleasure.
“Your scent.” He whispers open-mouthed, tips of his canines grazing the nape of your neck. “It is driving me crazy.” You release the breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. You didn’t even know what to say. Not like you could really say much right now anyways. You’re too lost in the fog of your own heat. For once, Ralak is doing most of the talking. “It makes me…” He snaps his hips back, only leaving half of his length inside you. “...lose myself completely.”
A deep roll of his hips.
A lewd moan dripping off your lips. 
“How do you do that?” He huffs, pressing his teeth against your neck. You don’t answer yet again. You just can’t find the words. Not right now. Not when he’s so deep inside you. “Hm?” A deep growl vibrates up his throat, his teeth just barely piercing the first layer of your silken skin.
“I—” You’re cut off by your own squeal when you feel the sting of his bite. Your breath catches in your throat and he immediately unlatches, lapping at the nicked skin to soothe it. “Sorry.” He whispers breathlessly, planting a quick kiss on each of your marks. “Sorry. Sorry.” A few more apologies flow from his mouth, as if he were drunk off of too much fermented fruit. Somewhat lucid but still so spaced. “I cannot —ngh— help myself.”
Thrust.
“‘M sorry.”
He knows he went a little too deep just now. But you feel so fucking good around his cock.
Chomp.
Another mark. Right on the bend of your shoulder, next to your first.
“Ngaytxoa [I’m sorry]”
A small cry from your quivering lips.
“S-Stop. No more apologies. I am yours to do what you p-please with.” You finally get out in one, weary breath.
Ralak’s languid, deep thrusts are laced with desperation. And with each stroke they become harsher and harsher. Faster and faster. Now he’s got your full permission he lets go once more, falling into the thick fog of his rut.
Within seconds his cock is pumping in and out of you, his half-deflated knot continuously prodding and poking at your entrance. The tip of his cock drags against your walls, putting an immense pressure right on your sweet spot. Yet still, sounds barely fall from your flushed lips. You’re too out of it. Too focused on the raw sensations rippling through you all at once. His overwhelming pheromones. His marking. His relentless pounding.
Rather, hot tears well over your eyes and stream down your face.
He can’t stop slamming himself inside you. He doesn’t want it to stop. It’s absolute rapture and he’s unapologetically drowning in it.
“Tanhì. Tanhì.” He groans needily. “y/n.”
He only says your name when he’s serious about something.
And hearing it drip from his tongue onto the nape of your neck has your hairs standing high and your clit throbbing.
“Eywa. Yes, ‘lak? T-Tell me what you need.” You blubber out, tightening your grip on his forearm.
“Haa — spread yourself.” He demands, prompting you to tuck your leg back as far as you can. His pace quickens, hips striking you with a sinful vengeance. But no matter how hard he fucks you, or how deep he buries himself inside you — its just not enough. He needs to be closer. To be deeper. To really be inside you. To knot you.
“More.” He grunts, slowing his thrusts into rocking, grinding himself inside your slippery, tight cunt.
You go to tug at your leg and meet nothing but resistance. “I-I’m trying.” You can feel it now. Perhaps it’s the bond or maybe it’s the way his knot is working you open but he’s growing more and more frustrated by the thrust.
“Mmmh. Wider.”
“I can’t. I can’t.” You’re quick to answer, feeling nothing but pressure from the way he’s trying to shove more of himself inside you.
“Agh.” He growls in frustration, pulling out of you and grabbing you by the ankle to flip you onto your back.
Ralak situates himself between your legs without hesitation and pushes them so far back your knees graze against the tips of your ears. You can barely breathe in this position and are having a hard time seeing anything else but his raging cock at your entrance. You can feel the burn in your thighs from how far back he’s shoving your knees but that sting is masked by the pleasure of him plunging himself back into your pussy.
The moan that rips from your lips is obscene and like no other. The crown of his cock is drilling itself directly into your sweet spot, causing it to swell with unadulterated pleasure. And each time he pulls out just to sink it back inside you he winds you in the process – making you sputter out absolute nonsense. Even he knows you're close, despite being in the thick of his rut.
But frankly, he doesn't care.
All he’s concerned about is satisfying his own urges.
“Not enough.” He grits through his teeth as his eyes shift to an even deeper shade of mauve. “‘ts not enough.” He pants, voice laced with something of worry. Panic that this feeling won’t go away. It makes you panic too, wondering if you’re doing enough for him. If he’s going to take even more from you. If you can manage it.
“You’re okay. Do what you need.” You try to reassure him, grasping your feet and holding them back–opening yourself up even more. But fuck, that only made things worst for you.
And by worst, you mean better. It feels like you’ll burst any second now, especially with how much pressure is on your bladder. “Fu-ck me. God, fuck–ahaa-fuck me.”
His brows bunch together as he peers down at you, beads of sweat rolling off his face to drip onto your chest. His jaw is so tense it looks as if it may fracture. He’s grunting with every push and huffing with every pull.
“Right there! Fuck. I’m close. I’m so fucking close. I-I need you to cum i-inside me. Oh—please ‘lak. Please!” Your cries are choked and muffled, breaths short and raggedy. The heat pooling in your core is unbearable. It needs out. Now.
Ralak swallows. Hard. Through his own haze he can see that you’re in need too. He shuffles closer to you, tucking his feet under him to assume a squatting position. Now he’s all but on top of you, folding you into a merciless mating press. This one shift in position has you coming undone on his cock, coating it in your thick slick as you sob from the white hot pleasure. The force of your climax has you pushing him out and only has him drilling himself further inside you. If it’s not for the way your pussy walls tighten around him surely his knot would have popped inside you by now.
He’s still fucking into you, right through your orgasm and towards his.
“Say what you need.” He panics through a tightened jaw, grinding himself inside you – pushing his knot against the resistance.
You know what he’s actually asking from you. To say something. Anything to tip him over the edge. To rid him of this maddening itch.
“Breed me.” You whisper, locking eyes with him. You watch as his pupils blow into thin rings and then constrict into nothing but dots. You try to swallow what spit you could, attempting to clear your throat. “Breed me. Please.”
“Then take it.” He lets loose a sinister growl, putting all his weight into his final push. For the first time, you feel his knot pop inside you, veiny and as thick as can be. You let out a high-pitched whimper, and feel your teeth begin to chatter. That doesn’t make him ease up, though. He continues to grind himself inside you until you feel the familiar, warm sensation of his sticky seed spraying inside you – filling your womb to the brim. His cock throbs wildly, in perfect synchrony with his own heartbeat, and soon yours too as the bond equilibrates your souls once more.
Strangely, you thought you’d be sore and overstimulated by now, but your body has never felt better. You’re full and content and more than satiated. Ralak heaves a sigh — one of pure relief. It’s glued to his face. All panic washes away and he’s feeling more at peace the longer he remains inside you. He’s rigid, firmly holding his position on top of you — ensuring he empties every single drop inside you. Yet, his heavy lidded eyes begin to close.
“I can’t breathe.” You mumble, snapping him out of his tranquil trance. His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth pulls into a little smirk. He exhales a breathy chuckle and carefully manoeuvres you both into a more comfortable position. He settles himself on his back and supports your body whilst positioning you on top of him.
“Better?” Ralak husks, drawing circles into your back with the tip of his finger.
You take a deep breath, filling your lungs to full capacity and then slowly release it. “Much.”
“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]” His accented words slur together as he dozes off.
“Nga yawne lu oer, Ralak [I love you].”
——
Ralak woke repeatedly throughout the night for his fill. If it wasn’t him, it was you. Waking up in a clammy state, shaking and nuzzling into his chest from your heat. You honestly thought that the more time passed — the more rounds you went — the more he would calm down.
But, you thought wrong.
He’d start by leaving tender kisses wherever he could, whispering he’d do his best to be as gentle as he can be. Then, he’d slip a finger inside you, stretching you out in attempts to pull his knot out without hurting you. But it would always sting, even just a little bit. After that he’d beg. Pleading with you to let him back in, and apologize right after plunging inside you regardless of your answer—which was always yes.
At this point your own foggy haze would take over. Perhaps it was your body’s way of coping with the overstimulation, but you pined for every single second of it. Sometimes it would last for a few minutes. Where he’d be quick to fold you in two and growl in the shell of your ear, ‘you’re mine, haah — fuck, take me’. 
Sometimes it was closer to an hour. Where you’d both be so tired you’d take breaks, lazily taking turns fucking each other, telling him to ‘put it back in’ whenever he’d slip out. But one thing remained the same every time. You’d sob when you’d cum and then beg him to breed you. And he would, without a doubt, breed you.
Mercilessly.
And with each breeding, he’d lose himself a little deeper. Knotting you over and over. Marking you repeatedly until your body’s littered with bites. Until you were so fucked out you’d lost the feeling in your legs. Until your throat was so dry you could barely speak. Until you needed a break.
——
“Wait.” You crawl towards the bedside table with wobbly knees. “Just need some water, Lak.”
Ralak pounces on you, knocking you onto your stomach and pressing himself against you. You extend an arm out, fingers splayed out and shaking from you trying to reach the cup of water Ka’ani left there more than a day ago. Ralak grabs your hips and hoists you up onto your knees and elbows, and mounts you from behind.
“Water. Water, Lak.” You beg with a hoarse cry, only for him to line the crown of his cock up with your sopping cunt. He growls next to your ear as he stretches over you and reaches for the cup of water, filling his cheeks and putting it back down within a couple seconds. With a quick grip of your jaw, he turns your head and meets his lips with yours.
Before you can process what’s going on you’re gulping down water as fast as you can. And when he pulls away, you’re yet again met with the hazy eyes of his rut. That’s when it dawns on you that whilst your heat is coming to an end, his rut is only getting stronger.
Rather than looking away, he locks his gaze onto you, just so he can watch your face screw as he slams his cock inside of you in one, hard thrust. It works a sudden, breathy moan from your mouth, eyebrows pinching together from the stretch. He holds his position, basking in the warmth and tightness of your cunt as his breath goes shaky.
“Wait.” You mumble weakly, shoving a hand behind you to push against his lower stomach. “Please.”
For the first time, you were telling him to stop.
His jawbone flutters as his eyes search yours. Restraint plasters to his face, and the only audible thing is his heavy breathing. He nods. Just once. A firm and intentional nod. He swallows the residual water left in his mouth and tenderly pulls out of you. You hear the thud of his footsteps quiet down as he nears the marui door, and then the splash of the water when he dives into the rough sea.
It’s pouring outside.
Storming, actually. Thundering and lightning. Yet he feels this is the only way he’d be able to resist the urge to storm back in and fuck you. But the instinct to protect his mate, even if it’s from himself, is more than enough to give him the willpower to walk away.
You take this moment to just breathe, turning your head to face the plush bed beneath you as you gather your thoughts. Did he just show that much restraint? Enough to walk away from a female na’vi during her heat cycle… all whilst in the height of his own rut cycle?
“Lekye’ung [insane]” You mutter, using your trembling hand to grab and bring the cup to your lips. They, too, are sore and chapped. Having gone so many hours without any food or water, you knock it back, shaking the cup to get out every drop. Finished already? You think to yourself, looking inside the cup with hazed vision, confirming it’s indeed empty.
After setting it back down onto the table, you slump back into the bedhead, relaxing your body. You’re sore. Actually, sore is an understatement. Every single muscle and fiber in your body burns—and that isn’t entirely due to your heat either now that it’s finally subsiding. Perhaps you should be taking this time to have a look at your… condition, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.
So you give in, sinking further and further into the bed as you doze off.
A few hours go by and Ralak returns with a net of fish thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of fresh water perched on his hip. He carefully sets down the bucket and rests the net next to the fire pit. He’s cautious not to wake you, nor come too close to you. Ralak ignites the fire and fans the flame. As quietly as possible, he prepares and cooks the fish, setting them aside to wrap in the leaves of a spartan tree.
Since coming to Awa’atltu, one of your biggest adjustments—despite the obvious—has been your change in diet. Fish weren’t uncommon back home, but they certainly weren’t the main source of food. You prefer the other foods here, your favourite being what you call ‘inland boar’, which is an animal that resembles what your father calls a ‘pig’ from his star.
But not even that, (boar) could smell better than this (fish).
The aroma alone rouses you from your sleep.
Your eyes open to a dark room and a glowing fire pit. The fire is out but the wood remains hot, shifting among different shades of orange and red. Ralak sits beside it, with his back leaning against the support beam of the pod. His arms are crossed over his chest and his knees are slightly bent. It’s hard to see more than just his silhouette with the lack of moonlight.
“That smells good.” You rasp. Ralak’s eyes fly open to reveal a familiar shade of deep blue. Like the sea. They glow and flicker before you, examining you now that you’re sitting up out of bed.
Crack.
A bolt of lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the room. For a moment, you were able to see every single bike mark, scratch and bruise you’ve given him. It also reveals that he’s shaking. Trembling from being wet and cold, or possibly from the strain he was putting himself through from just being in the same room as you.
Ralak moves quickly, shuffling to his feet and going right for the leaf that holds a few sloppily rolled fish. He brings it to you, setting it slowly on your lap, being overly cautious not to touch you. Grabbing your cup on the table, he dunks it in the bucket and sets it beside you.
“Eat.” He whispers, backing away to sit next to the pit. You watch as he slides down the beam and into a sitting position, and then glance down at your food. Saliva pools in your mouth from the aroma wafting up your nose.
You’re hungry.
“Thank you.” You say quietly, hastily stuffing an entire roll into your mouth.
You moan as you chew, nodding your head from how good it tastes. It’s hard to swallow, given that you bit off more than you could chew—literally—but when it finally goesdown you feel your stomach grumble for more. Ralak watches you intently. A wince screwing his face with every swallow he witnesses. And when you finish, you chug down your water and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
Another crack of lightning strikes, and then a low, lengthy rumble of thunder follows.
“That was… one of the best you’ve made, lak.” You say with a wobbly smile, slowly getting on your feet to wash your hands. The bucket is nearby your mate, who is still fixed in position. Although he remains unmoving, his eyes follow your every move. You shake your hands to dry them and shuffle over to Ralak and sit next to him.
“so… how do you feel?” You ask quietly, raising your hand to check if he’s feverish. He turns his head before your hand can make contact with his skin and his gaze locks onto the charred wood in the fire pit. 
“Fine.” Ralak mutters.
Eyebrows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try and look him in the eye. Your brows relax when you come to the realisation that he’s already taken care of himself. And only Eywa knows how many times.
“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I would have—”
“Ma’ muntxate [my wife]”He croaks, swiftly turning his head to look directly into your eyes. “Oeru txoa livu [please forgive me].”
“Txoa? [forgive?] What for, ma’ muntxatan? [husband]”
“I have… neglected you.” He’s struggling to speak. You can hear it in the strain of his voice.
Regardless, none of his words are really making any sense to you right now. How has he been neglectful? Despite the circumstances, it’s obvious he’s been trying his hardest to be good to you. Somehow, even conjuring up the strength to pull out of you and walk away.
“Ralak. You have not. Please, I—”
“Look at yourself.” He snaps, taking a quick glance at your body before dropping his head in his hands.
Crack.
Conveniently, another strike of lightning and boom of thunder, revealing exactly what he’s talking about. For a few seconds, you’re met with the sight of your battered body—scabbed and bruised. You lift your head, staring at his shameful demeanour. But the more you stare, the more you see your own reflection.
“And have you looked at yourself?” Your words bounce as you shuffle closer to him. “I bet you can’t even feel all that damage I’ve done to you.” You coo, using your thumb to gently graze past an easy six-inch scratch mark on his bicep. “I haven’t been so gentle with you either.”
Ralak shakes his head, allowing it to sink further into his hands. “You were starved.” He mumbles into the palms of his hands.
You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin in the dip between them. Your eyes wander over to the fire pit, catching sight of the outline of a few fish rolls.
Has he really punished himself by not eating?
“Have you eaten?” You ask, resting a gentle hand on his back.
“No need.”
“You should, you know. Don’t want you starving on me, lak.” You say lightheartedly, allowing your hand to slide up his spine and to the base of his skull.
He lets loose a quiet groan, fighting the twitch of his ears. Your fingers smooth over the base of his kuru, playing with the braid encasing that covers it. “If you do that—”
“Do what?” You whisper coyly, quickly running your hand down the length of his kuru.
His spine immediately straightens, his head lifting from his hands. The tips of your fingers gently make their way to his tendrils, carefully teasing them as they try to wrap around your digits. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, allowing a shiver to run through him. It feels like your fingers were inside his skull, tickling his brain in the best way possible. 
Reaching for your kuru with your free hand, you bring it up and over your shoulder. You lean into Ralak, your lips only inches away from his. You pull away your fingers to grip and pull his queue forth. The loss of contact has him sitting up straight, opening his eyes to look at you.
“I will not let you suffer alone.” You whisper, lessening the distance between the two of you, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly. He stills himself, even limiting his own breath so as not to make any sudden moves. “Okay?”
You wait for just a moment. For him to say something. To move away. But he remains stock-still, waiting for you to initiate this. You smile, your top teeth briefly rubbing against this lower lip, and lock your lips with his. He exhales through his nose, coming to life from your kiss and returning it full force. You take this as a good sign. A sign that you’ve broken through that wall once again, and bring your kurus together — making tsaheylu [the bond].
Both your eyes fly open, blown pupils staring into one another as your spirits unify. You both pull back, shoulders and chests heaving from your quick, unsteady breaths. You feel all that he feels – the frustration, the panic, the tension. It’s all fading, now finally nearing the end. He feels your subsiding heat, your soreness, your overpowering urge to care for him.
Before another second could pass, your lips crash into each other again—tongues intertwining as they explore one another’s mouth. Using his hand to support your upper back, he slowly lowers you onto the woven floor, parting your legs with his free hand. He situates himself between them, pressing his crotch firmly against yours. He’s warm, just like the toasty fire pit next to you.
I will try to be gentle. Ralak thinks to you, just like he’s been promising to be night after night.
I know you will. You smile, moving your kisses down his jawline as he slides his hands between your sticky pelvises.
——
It hasn’t even been two full weeks since the synchronous heat that had you and your mate locked away in your marui pod for a little over two days. Your back and thighs–and honestly everywhere else– still ache but outside of that, you feel like a brand new person. You weren’t able to confidently say that Ralak feels the same way, however.
Of course, he was adamant on limiting intimacy until you were ‘healed and recovered’. But, he had a bounce in his step. As if he were physically lighter. As if the weight of six years of pent up sexual frustration and self neglect melted off his back when you satiated the ‘insatiable’.
The constant aftercare was almost sickening. Even after most of your marks had faded he remained adamant on treating them with your own omaticayan herbs from back home. He praised them at every use, thanking your people for making such exceptional ’umtsa [medicine].
But as you entered the second week, after tons of reassurance, things dissipated and went back to normal. Ralak went back to his usual routine—fishing, hunting, responding to a few calls to Tonowari and your father. Ralak, without a doubt, made a vow to you and himself not to initiate anything until you were more than healed. But nonetheless clung to you in the nights.
He even, in fact, added a new step into your usual nighttime regimen. As usual, it began with the snuggles and tucking you under his arm just right, providing you with enough warmth to endure the cool night air. Then, he would release the perfect amount of pheromones to get you drowsy enough for bed.
But recently, he’s spent the past seven nights delaying the nightly routine until he’s had his fill of your scent. He’d lay himself down on your chest, nuzzling his face into your bosom and just breathe. You allowed it, thinking it was his own newfound way to wind down for bed.
Yet, the real reason was much different.
——
Right on the two week mark, Tsireya had roped you in with helping her with some of her Tsakrem duties. You were always happy to help her though, as it meant getting away from the marui pod for a little even if it meant being poked and prodded at.
And it certainly didn’t take long for that to happen.
Tsireya lets out a frustrated sigh and plops the medicinal pouch she’s weaving in her lap.  “I can no longer ignore it, y/n. You smell different.”
You lift your head, tearing your focus from your task of weaving and look at her with a puzzled expression on your face. You bring the end of your tail to your nose and sniff, but smell… nothing. “Like what?” Her brows lower and her eyes glisten with concern. She purses her lips and unsheathes the lengthy pin from its casing and grabs your hand. “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the sting.
Prick.
“Sss—ah! You need to be careful with how deep you go with that, you know. You could really—” The tsahik in training puts the wooden stick to her tongue and stares at you wide eyed, mouth agape. It’s as if she wants to speak but the words are lodged in her throat. “What? What is it?”
“You—perhaps I am wrong.” She stutters, quickly sheathing the tool back into its casing. “You should see my mother, y/n.”
“What? Why? Just tell me.” The words come out in a haste, and your voice is laced with panic. Do you have some sort of disease of the sea? Is there a cure? 
“You — you are with child.” Her lips tremble as she says the words in an uncertain tone of voice.
“What?” You stare at her dumbfounded, a little caught off guard by her choice of words.
“Pregnant. You’re pregnant. But I am likely mistaken. I am only in training. Which is why I said you should see my moth—”
“Oh. No. You’re… you’re probably right, Tsireya.” You swallow the spit pooling in your cheeks, avoiding eye contact.
“H-How? I mean. I know how. But how? Surely Ralak knows not to do such a thing during your heat. He can control himself. R-Right?”
“Right. If I were the only one… in heat.” You say the last few words under your breath, fixing your shawl before picking back up your task.
“What do you mean?” Tsireya leans in with a tilted head, looking a little closer at your covered shoulder. “Did you help him with his rut?” Tsireya asks bluntly. “He’s been unmated for six years, y/n. Did you reall—”
“I am his mate. Of course I did.” You nearly snap, baffled by the tone she’s having with you.
“H-How did that even work?” Tsireya shakes her head, slowly raising her hand towards you.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally lift your head to shoot her a puzzled, yet offended stare. “It worked like it would for any other Na’vi.”
“Y/n…” Tsireya quickly grabs your shawl, pulling it off your shoulder to reveal a large, deep and scabbed up bite mark. It looks almost infected because of the strange omaticayan herbal concoction smeared over it. “You should have just let him ease you into it. Look at you, you’re all bruised and—”
“Tsireya.” You interject, “thank you for the concern, but—” you aggressively pull up your shawl, “I feel just fine. Besides, being in heat was the best way to ‘ease me into it’…He was as gentle as he could be.” You mutter, twiddling with the twine as you think back to the way he tried to handle you with care.
“By the looks of it, he was anything but gentle with you.” Tsireya seethes, angry that the man she grew up looking at like a brother would do something like this to you.
You wince at her words. They’re like a knife to the heart.
A long, awkward silence fills the space between you and Tsireya. She reflects on everything she’s said, realising that perhaps she was a little more harsh than needed. She softens her gaze, “I’m sorry. I should not have said that. I just hate seeing you hurt.”
“I get it. I know you’re just looking out for me. It’s alright, ‘reya.”
You exchange lighthearted smiles.
“You are definitely pregnant then. After six years, he must have really filled you—”
“Tsireya!” You laugh, giving her shoulder a light shove.
Tsireya’s grin morphs into a more serious expression. “See mother to make sure. Okay?”
Your smile also fades into something softer as you nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”
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dear-tortured-adam · 17 days
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ྀི 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩, 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 ⟢
⟡ a small conversation [happy birthday darlin'!] ft. mammon x gn!mc | tagging my bby @mammonsrockstargf <3 note: i do have two mammon fics in the drafts. but have some silly. once again, happy birthday to our lovable dumbass / aff ; wc: around 1k!
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"Double shot. Shaken, not stirred."
"Make it three!"
Mammon perked up at your words, turning his head to face you as he raised a brow. "You sure, pearl? The booze 'ere ain't no joke."
You tilt your head, looking up and feigning a curious expression. "Hmmm…"
In moment's notice that mask shatters. Hums turned into less-than-discreet snickers, your fingers tapping a rhythmic tune on the glazed bar top. Each word wrapped in an air of assurance, with your other hand placed atop his. "Of course, of course! I'll be fiiiiine!"
"Eh, ya said so," Mammon shrugs. "No complaining, ya hear?"
You nodded, giggling like a child who got exactly what they wanted. The bartender nodded to your words, before retreating to his station: grabbing a mixer and a whole array of liquor. Not a bottle — several.
"So you go to this place?" you ask, resting your chin atop the palm of your hand.
Mammon nods, swirling the tiny bit of vodka left from the free jello shot. "Sometimes."
"I heard this was your favourite."
"Eh?" a small blush crept up his cheeks, though he shook it off, scoffing it off. "'course. Where else do ya expect me to go?" he retorted the questioning back, downing the remaining of that shot.
"The Fall?
"A demon can enjoy other things, human."
The tips of his ears grow redder by the second, as his eyes struggle to keep it's gaze locked in yours. Your bows furrowed.
You took note of his reaction, leaning closer. "You enjoy human realm alcohol, do you?"
Mammon froze. The glass made a loud 'clink' getting slammed on the hardwood, causing to you flinch. "W-what do ya mean?" the poor demon boy stuttered, his tan skin adorned in a rosy tint.
You click your tongue, "I don't know? Maybe…"
As you tilt your head to the barrage collection of human world imported beverages. On the highest of shelves were the most expensive, high-end wines that rivaled that of the finest demonus, and going lower you see barrels of beer; ready to serve upon order's request.
"And I heard the shop was fairly new," you hummed, a sly smirk toying your lips. "And they have only recently stocked on that new edition whiskey you liked~"
"S.. shut up."
Mammon was beyond speechless. And red, how the blush got too intense to where he covers his face with the palm of his hand, murmuring curses at his emotions expense.
Ever lovedrunk for this fool, you decided to tease him further. "Mammon~"
With a chuckle you took the hand off his face, your thumb caressing the back of his wrist. "Tell you what," you cooed. "I'll promise to take you to a far better bar back at the human realm for your birthday. How about that?"
Mammon's eyes widened, as tiny sparks linger in his irises. He had to blink. "You'd do that for me, pearl?"
"Mhm," you nodded. "And it can only be you.." you drew his hand closer, up until the faintest touch of fingertips dawdle on the soft fabric of your top. You glanced back, earning him a wink, "and me."
Mammon stares at how you just oh so effortlessly placed his hand at the middle of your chest, hovering over where he could feel the slow, sensual rhythm of your beating heart.
"No way…" he whispered. He had to trail back and forth from his hand and back to your face, processing all of this. Did you? You did not just… but you did. Knowing him, your ever lovable demon can now be analogous to a tomato, turning crimson as his hands clutched against the fabric. Though, what you didn't expect was how, temporarily, he traded away his tsundere facade.
That lovable idiot, with a wide grin breaking in on his lips with each tiny laugh.
"Yes way!" you exclaimed, your grip tightening around his wrist.
He gasped in amazed disbelief. "Oh my fuckin' Diavolo." It was a rare sight to see his ever surprised smile, though its through these instances where you learn to appreciate the greedy demon ever more. Even as you had his wrist off your fingers, he still feels the gentle thuds of your heartbeat lurk through his senses. "Tell me ya ain't joking."
"I'm not," you raised both your hands in the air. "Cross my heart."
That joke had somewhat got him back his own sentience. He shook his head, averting his gaze. "Yeah yeah.. I'll hold ya to it."
"You don't trust me?" You pouted, crossing your arms, "I guess I better drop it before it's-"
"Oh c'mere ya little-"
Before you could react back, Mammon had attacked you with a deadly combination of kisses and tickles. Every laughter heard by other guests mattered not, for you just had to take it back. Don't do that, now you shall face the proper punishment for it. Your humorous pleas of "stop!" and "mammon!" were left unheard.
Payback.
Minutes pass and you're catching your breath. Mammon was the one who looked at you smugly now, proud at how he's got ya all hazy in no time. You rolled your eyes.
"Sir, here's your order," the bartender returns, serving both of your drinks. A double and triple shot unidentifiable concoction for the both of you respectively. The drinks emit a marble mix of pink and gold, swirled accompanied with the dusts of edible stars. "Galaxies in a glass" ; now the drink name made a whole lot of sense.
"Oh?" you grabbed your glass, examining the little splashes of art. The little yellow heart at the center was just the perfect addition. "They're so pretty."
"It's the best on- Hey hey-"
"I'll be fine," you dismissed, taking a sip and———
You spat it out. Nearly all of it with the way you tumble the glass with how swift you were with letting got. Sticking out your tongue as if to take off the strong alcohol taste. Think of a daiquiri, but more concentrated and in turn, more unpleasant.
You clicked your tongue, meanwhile Mammon couldn't help but laugh at the sight.
"Told ya."
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check out my masterlist! | dividers by adornedwithlight
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wnbnny · 4 months
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wish you back - h.js
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w.c - 2.0k | genre - highschool!au/slice of life | pairings - jisung x gn reader | authors note - omfg i'm back from hiatus 😭 anyw req by my bby @starseungs i hope u enjoy <3 req can be found here!
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life brings about many surprises, one of which comes in the form of han jisung.
life as a highschooler wasn't easy, navigating through workloads, teenage crushes, and the struggles of a growing and developing brain.
most of all, the concept of soulmates.
soulmates were a thing you would expect from a movie, a fictional world. yet, it was very much true, girls gossiping over potential soulmates in the hallways, boys proposing to their girlfriends in soccer games, happy couples strolling down the streets of the city. your life was lived in monochrome, the classic black and white. it was only when you met your supposed soulmate at the age of 18 that everything would explode, a vibrant splatter of colours that finally allowed you to see the world as it was, not just through a filter. people described it as the feeling of warmth on your skin, the thrill of it all, the reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, purples, pink, all the hues, like home.
but that blood red string scared you.
what was so good about soulmates? the idea of having the rest of your life laid out before you, pre-destined and fated, scared you. what if your soulmate lived halfway across the world? what if you would never meet your soulmate, destined to die a lonely death while everyone else danced under the stars with their loved one? what if you didn't like the life planned out for you? what if you had to live the rest of your life seeing only black and white, and never see the yellow of the sun or the fresh green of the grass and the vibrant red of the flowers? what if your soulmate didn't want you?
it was especially the latter of the questions that haunted you the most.
you feared, with a frightening worriedness, that your chosen one would reject you. you had heard stories of people being rejected by their chosen soulmate, only to either live out their lives in misery or take their own life. no one was ever the same after meeting their soulmate. 
to be honest, you would rather live forever in a world with only black and white than to go through that heartbreak. you would never allow yourself to fall in love, you vowed. soulmate or not, heartbreak was something you never wanted to experience.
---
"oi!" 
"what do you want for your birthday? y'know what, nevermind, it should be a surprise." jisung grinned, ruffling your hair as you scowled at him.
"don't remind me, you know how much i dread the damned day." you groaned, shoulders sagging in defeat. 
your 18th birthday. 
the day you would finally meet your soulmate. 
life had been so peaceful until now, you thought. until someone would come into the picture and fuck everything up.
just 7 days to go until the day. 7 days wouldn't be that bad, right?
wrong.
day 7. day 6. day 5. day 4. day 3. day 2. 
each day, you could feel the trepidation settling into your bones, a chill running through your spine every time you looked at the clock on the wall, until that very day.
the day was normal, well-wishes from your parents and your gift given to you, the new bag you had been yearning for, significantly improving your mood, a smile on your face as you walked to the bus, corners of your lips lifting up and eyes crinkling. your eyes zeroed in on every person as you boarded the bus, squinting in anticipation of the bright colours that were supposed to burst in your vision. luckily, the world remained black and white, not a single spot of colour. you looked down at your phone. damn. the only classes you had with jisung were in the afternoon.
throughout the day, everyone showered you with birthday wishes, gifting you beautifully wrapped presents, yet you couldn't find it in your heart to be genuinely happy, a fake smile plastered on your face as you thanked them for the wishes. it wasn't that you didn't appreciate the gifts, truly. you just dreaded the change that would come in a few hours or so. in a few hours, you would be meeting the person that you would spend the rest of your life with. 
"class dismissed!" you startled awake with a jolt, unconsciously having daydreamed throughout the class, lost in thought. as you scrambled to move onto the next class, hastily picking up your textbook, a hand stopped you. you flinched in surprise, heightened alertness instantly kicking in. a girl held out your pen to you, the world still remaining in black and white.
thank goodness.
up next was biology, your hated arch nemesis. groaning half-heartedly to yourself as you dragged yourself to your locker to dump your heavy textbooks in, a voice broke you out of your reverie.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY-" a voice screamed, causing you to yelp in surprise, head whipping around in surprise as you finally saw the offender of your eardrums.
oh.
time seemed to stop.
red, the colour of his old beanie.
brown, the colour of his soft silky hair that you loved to thread your fingers through.
black, the colour of his old sweatpants and backpack.
yellow, the colour of his pins on his backpack.
blue, the colour of his fluffy hoodie.
purple, the colour of his keychain.
white, the colour of the blinding brightness that seemed to overtake you for a millisecond.
han jisung was your fucking soulmate.
in his hands was a badly wrapped present, wrapped in a bright yellow paper, his lips parted in shock and surprise as he started dumbfoundedly at you.
"oh."
he could only sputter, his boba eyes round and wide as the present dropped to the floor in shock.
han jisung was your soulmate. 
fuck.
"uh- so-" jisung's hand came up to scratch the back of his head, eyes wide in disbelief. 
"so uh- we're..."
"soulmates." you could only say in response.
should you be happy? you were supposed to jump in joy, after all. anyone would expect someone to be happy after bagging the person who was simultaneously your best friend and your secret crush. 
but why did it feel like you and jisung were headed on a one way train to doom?
"i- i gotta go." you stammered, turning around and dashing out the hall, breathing laboured as you heard him call after you in desperation.
no, no, no-
life was going so well. he would never want you, ever. he would never see you in that way. your friendship would be ruined. you would lose your best friend. 
life seemed to bustle around you as you ran. greens, pinks, purples, hues of every shade faded into your vision as you ran, tears finally cascading down your face, dripping onto the lush grass beneath your feet. you couldn't bring yourself to look at anything, eyes tightly shut, a stark reminder of what would change.
---
[57 missed calls]
jisungie 
hello?? y/n? i know you probably don't want to see me now... but i'll be here waiting for you, ok?  it's probably hard to accept that we're soulmates... but take your time:) seen at 12.03 a.m
jisungie
you didn't come to class today...  r u ok?? take care of yourself seen at 15.39 p.m
jisungie
its been five days already i miss you seen at 23.12 p.m
---
you threw your phone across the room, head buried in your shoulders as you muffled a sob. 
fuck him and his perfect personality.
if only he were that easy to forget, to let go. 
but he was han jisung. perfect in every way. as if you could ever dream of forgetting him and his warm touch, his wide grin, his fluffy brown hair hanging over in his eyes with a boyish innocence.
"ding!"
you groaned in annoyance, flinging the sheets back, stumbling out of bed, and quickly wiping away your tears. 
probably one of mom's online deliveries again. 
walking down the stairs, you swung open the door. 
"hi, you can leave the delivery there-"
except it wasn't even a delivery man.
it was han jisung.
"jisung-?" 
you could only stammer in response, eyes widening as you took a step back.
after all, what was one supposed to say to your soulmate that you'd been avoiding for days?
a flash of white and pink caught your eyes. your gaze drifted down to his hands, only to be met with a bouquet of pink, white, and red tulips, a beautiful arrangement wrapped in pink tulle and tied together with a elegant white ribbon.
"uhh... surprise?" jisung smiled anxiously before scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as his face turned crimson red.
too stunned to speak, you could only stand there gaping at him. after what felt like an eternity, you finally spoke.
"what are you doing here?"
"wait... lemme just- uh- compose myself. big speech, y'know?" he grinned in nervousness, fidgeting slightly, clearly a bundle of nerves.
"so..." he exhaled. "i know i'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but... i don't blame you. but however you feel about us being... soulmates, it doesn't change the fact that i don't mind being your soulmate. i was... pretty happy at first, but then you ran away, so i-"
"wait, happy? i thought you would be mad, or angry, or anything-" you cut him off, brows furrowing in confusion.
jisung gulped. "i had feelings for you." 
"what-?" your heart rate skyrocketed, a ringing in your ears, the thumping of your heart against your ribcage, all making you painfully hopeful, pleading with the gods to not break your heart and dash your hopes again.
"i- i had feelings for you. so... no matter how you want this whole soulmate thing to turn out, even if you don't feel the same, i'll be happy either way knowing you're my soulmate. if you don't want it to, this won't change anything between us, we can go back to living our normal lives-"
jisung was cut off by the feeling of soft, plush lips on his, crashing into him with a ferocity as your arms were thrown around his neck, teeth clashing with his, warm hands threading into his hair.
you didn't think you would ever get used to kissing jisung, you thought. every single touch, smile, even a tiny glance set your nerves ablaze. the feeling of his pillowy lips on yours was thrilling, his hands threaded into your hair and pulling you closer by your lower back, pressing you flush against him until there was so space between the two of you, bridging the gaps that felt like oceans forcing the two of you apart.
finally, the two of you parted with a gasping 'pop', ears red and cheeks flushed, staring at each other in childlike wonder. 
"thank you for the tulips," you smile, taking them from his hands and planting one last kiss on his cheek, "they're lovely."
jisung's ears turned bright red, stammering out a 'you're welcome' in response as you laughed at his antics. "oh, that reminds me," he smiled giddily, hand reaching into his pocket to pull out a beautiful baby pink coloured box, gently opening it. you gasped, inside was a beautiful necklace with a heart charm in the middle, simple and elegant. "i was gonna give this to you on your birthday, but... well, you ran off, so here." he smiles nervously awaiting your reaction, and is pleasantly surprised when you squeal and plant a big fat kiss on his lips. he helps you put it on, your lips finding his again as you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer. "it's beautiful, thank you." you smile, resting your head in the crook of his neck.
"so you'll accept me as your soulmate?" he asked, eyes wide as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, anxiously waiting for your answer.
you nod, smiling. "i accepted you as my soulmate the moment i found out, i just... thought you wouldn't feel the same way back... so i just avoided you. in hindsight, that sounds pretty stupid," you sigh.
"aish, we could've kissed a long time ago if i had just told you i felt the same!" jisung groaned, pulling you closer as you laughed and smacked his arm in playful indignation. "at least we worked it out." smiling softly, you allowed yourself a moment of peace, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.
"out of all the people in the world, i'm stuck with you, han jisung. but you're the best person to be stuck with."
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wongyuseokie · 1 year
Text
Practice Makes Perfect | c.s.c, j.w.w & k.m.g
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Summary: Mingyu needed some help sexually. So his Hyungs decided to ask a simple favour of you, and who are you to say no to them? Besides, who could deny them pleasure? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕smut | ♥︎ completed Word Count:  2669 words 
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Female Reader | Female Reader x Jeon Wonwoo | Female Reader x Kim Mingyu 
Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Smut, Fluff, PWP. Content Warnings: None. It’s a PWP, and with my bias line. Mingyu is made to be a lot shyer and a little less experienced here. It’s the only way I can humble a man that fine. Mingyu needs some help, I guess? (but does he really?). Mentions of alcohol.  
Smut Warnings: Dom! Cheol, Subish!Gyu, Dom Wonwoo! Unprotected sex (pls don’t do this irl). Overstimulation, double penetration, breast & nipple play. Oral (m & f receiving), face riding, squirting. Mentions of public sex. Pet names (good boy, baby boy, pretty girl), praise kink. Pussy slapping. Cum play. Biting, it’s mild. Authors Note 1: Thank you so so much to @here4btsfics & @junkissed-replies for beta'ing this for me! Thank you also to @seungkwansphd for reading and then telling me I should be in horny jail. ILY bby. Authors Note 2: Also happy birthday to Wonwoo, the bestest boy. To celebrate him, let's thirst over a fine-ass man and his handsome friends.
Authors Note 3: tagging my lovely @the-boy-meets-evil because it's her birthday month, and I gotta make her suffer too. Also tagging my lovely Zeta @multi-kpop-fanfics because we suffer the Wonwoo rot today (every day). Tagging my lovely @seokgyuu too. Cross Posted to AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.
“Seriously? Hyung, I mean it; how do I make her cum with my mouth?” Seungcheol kept laughing at Mingyu. 
“Come on, Hyung; he’s trying to learn,” Wonwoo said with a smile. 
Seungcheol stopped laughing and looked at them.
“Okay, fine, Mingyu. Do you think I have a doll or something you would practice on?” Mingyu looked down. 
“Besides, it wouldn’t help. Each woman is different. No woman’s clit is at the same location as the others.” Mingyu sighed.
“I know. I just, since my ex, I haven’t been able to, like, I want to make a girl come undone because of my tongue and then fuck her,” Mingyu blurted out. 
“Mingyu, I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Wonwoo comforted. 
“Anyways, shall we head to Y/N’s house? I’m sure we’re already late?” Seungcheol asked, and the other boys nodded. 
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You were on your second glass of wine, waiting for the boys to show up. It was movie night, and they had kept you waiting for the past hour and a half, and you were getting antsy. 
You decided to pour a glass of wine, which turned into two, and you were sipping when you heard your doorbell ring. You opened it to find your three best friends all looking extra apologetic. 
You all had met because Wonwoo had somehow managed to splash water on you at a bar. Seungcheol, the charmer, helped you get some tissues, and Mingyu was there, while he was shy at first, but he soon became your fellow cuddle buddy. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry. Mingyu over here wouldn’t shut up, so we got delayed.” Mingyu glared at Seungcheol.
“Hyung,” he warned, and Seungcheol smiled.
“I won’t tell her. Chill,” you narrowed your eyes at Seungcheol’s words. 
“What were these three up to?” You thought. 
You smiled at Seungcheol, never being able to get annoyed at any one of them entirely. 
“It’s okay, come on, help me in the kitchen. Wonwoo, Mingyu, get settled, make yourselves at home and pick a movie,” you said, inviting them in, and they followed you into the apartment while Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen. 
Moments like these, you were thankful for having a door that led to your kitchen because the minute you had shut the door behind you, Seungcheol had you pushed against a counter and his lips finding yours. 
“I’m sorry we’re late, Y/N,” Seungcheol apologised, mumbling the words against your lips. 
You and Seungcheol met at a bar, mainly because Mingyu accidentally spilt a drink on you, and Seungcheol took you to the bathroom to help you clean up, and one thing led to another, and somehow you ended up fucking Seungcheol in a random bathroom bar. 
It was a good arrangement. You both had amazing sex and no strings. 
“What was Mingyu asking about anyway?” You asked, now grabbing glasses and bottles of wine from the counter. 
Seungcheol bit his lip, “how to eat a girl out.” 
“Didn’t he have a girlfriend?” “He did, but I think he wants it for a one-night stand or hookups so he can, and I quote, ‘make her cum on my tongue before I fuck her,” Seungcheol elaborated, and you smiled at his words. You couldn’t help but picture it; Mingyu was eager, and willing to learn. 
“Y/N, I know that fucking smile.” 
You smirked, “what if I give him a lesson?” 
Seungcheol  grinned, “can I watch?” 
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You and Seungcheol emerged from the kitchen to find Wonwoo and Mingyu sitting on your sofa. Mingyu had removed his leather jacket, leaving him with a sleeveless top showing off his muscles. 
Wonwoo, on the other hand, was on his phone, and his tight black shirt was doing nothing to hide how much he had been working out in the last few months. 
“What movie did you pick?” you asked. “We couldn’t pick one, so we just have music chilling in the background. Let’s make it a wine night,” Wonwoo replied.
You sat on the couch, and Seungcheol pulled you to his side.  
“Mingyu, how’s single life?” You asked innocently, and you heard Seungcheol suppress a laugh as he caught onto your motive. 
“Uh, good, you know. Nothing terrible.”
“Easier to get casual sex, right?” You asked innocently, and Mingyu stilled. 
“Hyung, what the hell did you say to her?” Mingyu asked, glaring at Seungcheol. 
You blinked as you set your glass down, walked over to Mingyu and stood before him. You sat down on his lap, throwing your legs around his waist. 
“Mingyu, look at me,” you said, and he did just that. 
“Good boy.” Mingyu felt your praise shoot straight to his cock. 
“You wanted to learn how to eat a girl out?” You asked, and Mingyu started turning red. 
“Do you want me to teach you?” You continued to ask. 
“Or?” Seungcheol interrupted. 
“Do you want your Hyung to show you?” Mingyu bit his lip at Seungcheol’s words while Wonwoo, who was enjoying this all too much, smirked.
“Show him, Hyung. He’s a visual learner anyway,” Wonwoo chimed in, and you nodded. Mingyu was still frozen. At the same time, Seungcheol sat on the floor in front of you. You crawled off Mingyu’s lap and found a space between him and Wonwoo. 
“Kiss me, pretty girl,” Seungcheol instructed, and you did as he asked, placing your lips on Seungcheol’s as he moved his lips with yours. He pulled your lower lip between his as he kept kissing you, his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss. 
Your moans filled the room, along with the music. Seungcheol’s hands went to your shirt, pulling it off, revealing a sheer bra that left little to the imagination, while his hands found your shorts. He pulled your shorts and underwear off together. 
Wonwoo, who was already hard, found the clasp of your bra and undid it, helping you out of the material. He lifted one leg onto his thighs. 
“Mingyu, take her other leg,” Wonwoo said as Mingyu shakily moved his hand to your thighs, lifting over his muscular legs. You felt so exposed, and Seungcheol’s hot breath on your cunt did not help.
Wonwoo’s hand found a way to your breast. He started massaging and squeezing the soft tissue, making you moan as he traced circles around your hardened nipples. Mingyu was practically catatonic until Seungcheol told him to move. 
“Mingyu. You’ll turn into a statue at this rate. Kiss Y/N.” Seungcheol said as he started stripping himself down to his underwear; you turned your head to face Mingyu, who was turning into a lovely shade of fuchsia.
“Baby boy, kiss me,” you said, and you felt Mingyu practically launch himself at you. His lips found yours, and he kissed you. While Seungcheol was a more passionate kisser, Mingyu was more playful. 
His tongue kept running along your bottom lip; he would slip his tongue in now and then and deepen the kiss. Mingyu would gently tug at your bottom lip with his teeth, making you moan and writhe. 
Mingyu pulled away to trail kisses down your neck. He bit and sucked his way to your collarbone, ensuring that he ran his tongue over each of his love bites, soothing the area. 
You moaned as he continued and tugged his hair, making him look at you. 
“Baby boy, you’re so fucking good at that,” you praised, making Mingyu smirk. His lips were swollen, and his eyes glazed over with lust. 
A slap to your clit brought your attention back to the room and Seungcheol ’s carnal gaze. 
“Mingyu, watch what I do. Watch how I make her cum with just my mouth.” You squirmed at Seungcheol’s words, desperate to feel his lips on your cunt. 
You would never let Seungcheol know how good he was at eating you out. He already had a massive ego when it came to his skills in bed, and you didn’t want to inflate it further. 
“Mingyu, eyes on her cunt,” Seungcheol instructed, and Mingyu nodded, his hand massaging your breast, mirroring Wonwoo’s actions. Seungcheol leaned forward and ran his tongue from your entrance to your clit. 
“Fuck,” you moaned, you almost hated how easily Seungcheol made you a mess, but at the same time, you weren’t exactly complaining. You moved your hands down to Wonwoo’s trousers while the other moved to Mingyu’s. Both men groaned as you palmed their erections. 
Seungcheol ran his tongue up and down your folds until he finally fixed his mouth on your clit. 
“Fuck, Cheol,” you whimpered, feeling him smirk against your pussy. 
Mingyu’s gaze never once left your cunt. He observed as his Hyung lapped at your cunt. He noticed what parts of your cunt, when touched, made you moan and whimper. 
Seungcheol wrapped his lips around your cunt and started to suck, making you buck your face against his mouth. Seungcheol moved his mouth away from your cunt to speak. 
“Wonwoo, take her in your lap and hold her tight,” Seungcheol instructed, and Wonwoo did as he was told. 
You were sat in Wonwoo’s lap between his thighs, your lower back pressing against his hard length. 
Wonwoo’s muscular arms wrapped tight around your waist, immobilising you as Seungcheol  dove back in. 
Seungcheol resumed his actions as his mouth found your clit again, he kept sucking, and you kept squirming, making Wonwoo moan each time you moved against his cock. 
Seungcheol licked and flicked your clit until you whimpered and came on his tongue, and Seungcheol lapped at your entrance, licking your release. 
Seungcheol smirked as he stood up. He pulled off his briefs and sat down in between the two men.
“Wonwoo put her on me,” Seungcheol instructed, and Wonwoo smirked and lifted you and lowered you down onto Seungcheol’s cock.
“Y/N, hands around my neck, pretty girl,” Seungcheol commanded, and you nodded and wrapped your hands around Seungcheol’s neck as he started thrusting his hips upwards, making you moan and fall forward. 
“So fucking tight,” Seungcheol said as he groaned.
“Mingyu, rub her clit.” Mingyu nodded as his hand moved to your cunt. He gently moved his fingers along your cunt and stopped when he heard you gasp. 
“There?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded. 
Mingyu wasted no time rubbing your clit. His fingers moved vigorously, and you were cumming in practically no time.
Seungcheol's groans got louder as you came around his cock. He hissed and pounded into you as you moaned and keened in oversensitivity. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” Seungcheol groaned, thrusting a few more times and stilled when he came inside you. Seungcheol slowly pulled out of you.
 “Keep my cum inside you,” Seungcheol instructed. 
Seungcheol carried you gently and laid you down on the other end of the sofa.
“Gyu, you wanted to eat a girl out? Go on, make Y/N cum,” Seungcheol instructed lazily. 
Mingyu bit his lip to suppress a moan. You moaned when you heard his instruction and stayed still, waiting for Mingyu’s mouth. He got so hard at the thought of being able to lick your pussy clean of Seungcheol’s cum. 
“Mingyu, take your clothes off,” you mumbled as he approached you. You almost laughed at the speed with which he undressed but then had to bite back a moan when you saw his body. 
Mingyu crawled and laid down between your legs. You could feel his breath on your cunt as he moaned and dove straight in. He mirrored Seungcheol’s actions; however, Mingyu was playful. He would alternate between his tongue and lips. 
Mingyu moved his mouth away from your cunt, and pulled you up on the sofa. Your hands tugged at his hair.
“More, Mingyu,” you whispered, and he laid down and pointed to his face. 
“Ride my face, Y/N,” Mingyu asked breathlessly, and you nodded as you straddled his face, his hands wrapped around your thighs, inching you upwards so he could push his tongue inside your cunt. 
You nearly fell forward at the welcome intrusion. Mingyu moaned when he tasted Seungcheol’s cum inside you as he moved his tongue and licked you. 
“Do you want more, pretty baby?” You nodded. You heard Seungcheol’s voice from behind you. 
You found Wonwoo standing at Mingyu’s head, his cock hard and in his hand. You adjusted yourself and wrapped your lips around his.
“Fuck, can I fuck your throat?” Wonwoo asked, moaning, and you simply hummed in approval against Wonwoo’s cock, the vibrations making him buck his length in your mouth. 
Wonwoo started by wrapping your hair in a ponytail and moving his hips in and out of your mouth. You let Wonwoo fuck your throat, and Mingyu kept licking you. You whimpered as you started to feel your orgasm wash over you. 
You came around Mingyu’s tongue, whimpering, but Mingyu’s grip on your thighs made it impossible for you to move. He continued licking you while you moaned while deep throating Wonwoo. 
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m going to cum,” Wonwoo growled, and you hummed, letting him know he could. Wonwoo thrust a few more times until he stilled and spilled his hot cum down your throat. 
You moaned as you swallowed him. Wonwoo smirked devilishly. He was far from being done with you, but you didn’t have to know that just yet. 
Mingyu kept lapping at your cunt, until you shook your vision, fading as you rode your orgasm out on his face. You whimpered as you felt a strong pair of arms pull you off him and hold you tightly. 
“Mingyu, you said you didn’t know how to eat a girl out, and you made this one squirt with your tongue,” Seungcheol said, cocking his brow at him. Mingyu grinned as he licked his lips. 
“I watched you, and she liked it,” Mingyu mumbled shyly, and you noticed how hard Mingyu was, and you motioned for him to come forward.
“Nope!” You heard Seungcheol say. 
“Cheol, fuck, I need to fuck him,” you protested, and Seungcheol grinned. 
“Oh, you will. Just you won’t fuck him alone. Mingyu, lie down again,” Seungcheol instructed, and  Mingyu nodded and retook his position. 
“Y/N, take him inside you,” Seungcheol instructed, and you practically crawled over and sank yourself on his length, hissing at how good he felt inside you. You felt a hand slap your ass, and you turned around to notice Wonwoo, who pushed you down so that you were lying on top of Mingyu. 
You felt Wonwoo push his cock inside your cunt, and your mind went blank as he sheathed himself further and further inside you. Both men were hissing at the tight fit while you just let out whimpers. 
Once Wonwoo was entirely inside you, he started moving his hips and tapped Mingyu’s thighs to do the same. You kept scratching Mingyu’s chest, trying to hold on as both men were fucking you. Neither one of them would last long in such a tight fight. 
Hisses and moans filled the room as the three of you were ecstatic. Seungcheol was hard and stroking himself at the sight. 
You felt Wonwoo cum inside you first, biting down on your shoulder as he did and pulled himself out, making you and Mingyu hiss. Mingyu pounded into your cunt as he came inside you shortly after. 
You were panting, trying to catch your breath as Mingyu pulled out of you. You didn’t realise when, but he had you flipped and on the sofa, and his lips on your cunt. 
You screamed at the touch, you were so swollen and sensitive, but Mingyu pushed his tongue inside you, moaning as he tasted your cum, mixed with his and Wonwoo’s. 
He licked you until you came again. He moved away from your cunt to your lips, pulling you in for a kiss. 
“Fuck.” He moaned as he took a seat next to you. 
“Okay, it’s my turn to ravage her. You two, make sure you hydrate,” Seungcheol teased, smirking as he pulled you off the couch and threw you over his broad shoulders, slapping your ass as he carried you to your bedroom.
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