#i am shamelessly begging for attention
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remotewatch · 1 month ago
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‘the literal first thing he does in the (upcoming) quarantine fic is doordash a strap since you didn't think you'd be out of town long enough to need to pack it’ I’m already losing my fucking mind. I’m talking about teasing him for being so whiny and needy and being a little mean while talking him through it. I’m talking about withholding the strap as a punishment. I’m talking about sitting on his face as breath play. I’m talking about him jumping the bed .
you're making it soooooo hard to not spoil like 3 different concepts rn. wonder if anyone wants excerpts
im still talking about playing fetch with him off my balcony and spanking him with his own shoes if yall need anything
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months ago
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stakeout
in which spencer reid and flirty!reader are stuck in a car together with nothing to entertain themselves but each other.
fluff! warnings/tags: fem!reader, they have little crushes on each other, some of you will not like reader, but spencer does, it’s all banter, lots of teasing, playful insults, jokes about handcuffing so suggestive jokes i guess, so cheesy, reader enjoys flustering spencer, written with earlier seasons spencer in mind a/n: bandages!reader and spencer are so back!! i missed them!! this is SOOO cheesy! cheesiest thing ever! thank you to the person who requested this!!! thank you for giving me an excuse to just write cheesy banter!!! yyyayyyy!!! ilysm
“I am so fucking bored. Am I allowed to say that?”
It’s exactly the kind of thing Spencer should expect you to say, and maybe when you first joined the team it would’ve made him squirm, but now as you drop your binoculars and give him a look, bored, head tilted to shoulder, like you're waiting to be entertained, he only shrugs. Your insouciance is one of the things you know he’s come to love about you and would probably never admit. 
“Who’s going to stop you?”
You bump his shin with the toe of your leather boot and he glances down only momentarily before he’s raising his own binoculars to pick up your slack. 
“You. You don’t like when I swear.”
Spencer makes a face that you can only see the bottom half of. His voice is strained with focus. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Where? The faces you always make. You’re a judgy little bitch, you know that?”
“I don’t judge you for swearing. Frequent and creative use of profanity is correlated with a broader vernacular and greater social intelligence.”
“Oh, shut up. Yes you do.”
“You’re punchy tonight.” The leather of your seat squeaks underneath you as you slide down and groan, loudly. Spencer grimaces as he reaches over, gently swatting your shoulder with the back of his hand. “You should try to be louder. They might not have heard you.”
Your jaw drops indignantly. “Wh—the house is like 300 feet away! They’ve been blasting music all night. And not even, like… good music.”
“What, you don’t like death metal?”
You give him a side-eye. “Do you?”
He shrugs, giving up on the binoculars. A strand of hair has fallen over his face. You fight the urge to fix it. “I don’t know. It’s loud. And grating. And incessant. It begs for attention shamelessly and tactlessly. I’m kind of used to it.”
“Watch your mouth,” you scoff. “It would be a shame if I had to ruin that gorgeous face of yours.”
Spencer smirks and shakes his head disapprovingly, cheeks dusted scarlet. 
“You just can’t help yourself.”
“Who could around you, baby? Look at the bone structure on you. And those sweater vests. Can’t believe you walk around like that. It’s distracting.”
“Baby?” He grumbles, like he’s utterly displeased, but the way he’s losing a fight against that smile tells you otherwise. You lean your head against the headrest, boring your eyes right into his profile and giving him the opportunity for some searing eye contact, should he take you up on it. But for some reason, he can’t seem to look away from the steering wheel. 
“Do you choose them just for me?”
There are those pretty eyes—on you for maybe a second before they’re darting away. He fiddles with the binoculars in his lap. It’s adorable how much he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you get like this. Morgan once likened it to a cat batting around a mouse. Don’t play with your food, he told you. Take a little pity on the poor kid. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. 
But Morgan’s not here right now. 
“What?”
“Do you pick out your little sweater vests because you know I like them? ’Cause, you know—I also like when you just do a button up. The blazers, too. Those are sexy. But if I had to pick, it would be the sweater vests.”
You reach over to straighten out the grey one he’s got on right now, and he entertains your fiddling for only a moment before catching your wrist in a considerate hold. 
“Alright, can you—can you behave? Please?” He laughs. Unfortunately it makes your stomach flip. 
“Probably not. You could try cuffing me.”
“Or,” he begins, carefully pressing your own hand to your chest, “we could keep our hands to ourselves.”
You pout. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Where’s the fun in getting yelled at if Hotch has to come and unlock you because I dropped the key between the seats?”
“So it’s a maybe on the handcuffs?”
He falls back, eyes fluttering shut like you’re exhausting him, and offering you the perfect vantage point to admire that jawline of his. 
“Alright. Five minutes.”
There’s no way he’s actually taking you up on this. 
“Five minutes of what?”
His head rolls over his shoulder and he gives you a look of his own. “Of silence. I’m begging.”
Oh. 
Well then. 
You settle back in your seat and swing your own binoculars around by the strap. 
“You know, you’d be bored to tears right now if it weren’t for me.”
“I count myself lucky every day,” he says. And despite the sarcastic tone, you actually believe him. 
A moment passes, during which the bubbly tension of your shared repartee fades into a sincere comfortable silence. 
You kick your feet up on the dash. “How about I cuff you? Is that more your speed?”
You’re already grinning when he answers, not bothering to take your eyes off the house outside. 
“You are… astoundingly inappropriate.”
“Well a girl has to try, Spencer.”
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yieldtotemptation · 2 months ago
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ANIMALS ft. Natty
natty x male reader smut
10k words
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“All I’m saying is,” Natty starts, like she always does, with more unsolicited advice than you can handle at 2 AM, "for someone that complains so much about not having a sex life, you really don’t do much to fix it."
“And what, oh wise friend of mine, is your recommendation.”
“I don’t know. Get a haircut. Dress better. Try not being a massive pussy?” Natty shrugs. Or at least you think she does. Only so much you can tell over the phone.
You sigh. Bite back the urge to tell her to fuck off. But then, who else would talk you to sleep at this ungodly hour? So instead, you concede the point. “Noted.”
“Or, you know, if it’ll stop you from being such a little bitch,” and now she’s laughing, cackling really, and not once has that ever, ever meant anything good. "You could always just fuck me."
���
Two weeks and twelve hours post-Natty’s incredibly unhelpful suggestion that did absolutely nothing to alleviate you of your insomnia, and you’re back on the phone with her.
Only this time, there's video.
So, yay.
"Help me, please."
It’s a Friday and Natty's begging, again.
Because she knows she can count on you, knows that you’ve long since resigned yourself to your fate as Natty’s on-call ‘fixer’. There for everything from life-changing career decisions to helping her figure out what show to stream next.
And now, apparently, choosing her outfit for tonight.
“Help me, help me, help me, help me.”
God, this woman and her begging. Knowing full well that it’s your kryptonite.
"Okay, okay, okay," you're relenting, much earlier than usual. Mostly because as far as Natty’s petulant requests usually go this one’s a walk in the park. “But don’t you have people for this sort of thing? People who don’t, and I quote, ‘have a dogshit taste in style?’”
“It is dogshit!” Natty calls out, already turned around and leaving you (her phone) on the vanity, facing out to her bedroom and all its hideous pinkness. She disappears from the screen, diving deep into her closet for yet another pair of shorts that will most certainly hug way too close, or a top that dips way too low, or a pair of heels that scream—'hey, I have legs, would you like to spread them?' "But!"
Natty returns to the camera with a leather belt—oh no, that's a leather skirt—in hand; clad in nothing but a casual cotton bra/underwear combination that she’s filling out far too well for your sleep-deprived brain to handle.
She holds up the skirt against her waist for your consideration. Poses. It wouldn't cover a thing. Or maybe that's the point—again, you don't have any fashion sense, whatsoever.
“You’re a man, and I need a man’s opinion because I’m hoping to take one home tonight to fuck my brains out until I forget about this shit-storm of a week. So, you know—help a girl out?”
“As always, you have quite a way with words.”
Natty leans towards the camera, bending down to stare right at you. It makes entirely too much sense that she’s built an entire career around doing just this.
“It’s my third language, asshole.”
The insult lands softer than she likely intended, considering well, you’re a little too distracted to take it. It’s entirely her fault. The angle makes her tits look far too immaculate to pay any attention to her mouth.
Maybe she should consider going out just like this?
Yeah, that’d definitely get her fucked.
But, she frowns before you can make the suggestion, turning on her heels and sashaying back to her closet, leaving you to choke on air at the sight of her ass stretching out her favourite pair of panties. (The white pair with the pretty-pink bows. The one that rides up her ass when she stretches, bends, sneezes—basically any time she’s not standing perfectly still. And even then.)
Anyone else and this whole thing would be weird. Well, weirder than it already is.
See, you and Natty have this thing; this odd, cat and dog relationship that’s been going on since what feels like the dawn of time:
You’ve watched her shamelessly cycle through men faster than a teenager through a box of tissues, leaving a trail of broken hearts and broken cocks in her wake.
While she’s been forced to witness every time you’ve met ‘the one’, only to be there months later to help pick up the pieces when you’re burying your feelings in video games and alcohol and porn, wondering how it all went so wrong.
All this to say that seeing Natty bouncing around in her underwear with that laser-beam of a smile of hers; with all of her soft curves, thick thighs, her ridiculous ass and again, those immaculate fucking tits isn't that unusual.
In fact, it doesn't really do anything for you at all.
(Fucking liar.)
“Here, how about this.” Natty appears from the corner of the screen, having found a top that’s somehow made of even less material than the bra she’s already got on. The gall of her to ask, "Too much or not enough?"
You deadpan. “Does it come in adult sizes too?”
Natty grins, because she can read it right on your stupid face. She looks so, unbearably hot. Without even trying that hard. This bitch. “So just right, then.”
And then she twirls, leaving you to face her back, and before you even have time to blink, Natty’s bra has fallen down her shoulders; and you’re hating how you lean in to look because this damn app has no zoom feature to save your sorry eyesight.
Her fucking tits. Perfect, bouncy. Even through the pixels, even from behind, you can still see the way they spill.
She slips on her chosen top for the evening—a tiny, strappy number—and spins back around to face you in all her Natty glory. By the skin of your teeth, you’re looking away and leaning back, feigning nonchalance and leaving her none the wiser.
You think.
“You know,” Natty says, tilting to one side, hand on hip. Fuck, even that slightest movement makes them bounce. Utterly, utterly obscene. “You should just come tonight.”
You’re saying, “Fuck no,” before she’s even finished her sentence. ‘Coming tonight’ means ‘clubbing’, and ‘clubbing’ means being stuck listening to the shittiest music, surrounded by the worst people in all of Korea, drinking overpriced slop and watching Natty turn down a revolving door of douchebags on the dancefloor.
So, yeah.
If ‘fuck no’s’ were bricks, you’d be building the Great Wall of ‘Fuck No’, big enough for aliens on the other side of the galaxy to see with a fucking telescope and have their first contact with the human race be a giant ‘Fuck No’.
And that’s your polite way of turning her down.
Yet somehow, Natty’s hardly deterred.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Natty sing-songs, shuffling on her tiptoes, shifting her weight from foot to foot, making her entire body jiggle. It’s like she’s intentionally trying to sell you on the idea with every little movement. Make you believe that if you came with her, you’d be able to find someone who comes close to looking half as good as she does in that… whatever-the-fuck that is. Bralette? Crop top? Whatever. Fat chance. "Come on, come, come, come. Be my wingman please!"
You already have your second ‘fuck no’ queued up, but Natty just won’t stop fucking talking.
“Don’t you want to get laid? Don’t you think you need to have fun after what’s-her-name?” Natty continues, pouting at you through the screen.
And there it is, a study in how Natty usually gets her way—jutting out her bottom lip, digging her thumb into the waistband of her panties to expose just a smidge more skin, leaning just right to make her tits look like they’re about to pop out. It’s like she’s got a fucking manual.  
“Don’t tell me you’d rather stay at home with Handalf the Grey than come out with me and all my hot friends?”
“You mean having to clean up after all your ‘hot friends’ and their bullshit while you run off to score free drinks?” You retort, recalling all the other times when she managed to entice you out of your self-imposed isolation and into the deafening, sweaty hellhole known as a nightclub.
“Said hot friends that you’re too much of a pussy to hit on, mind you,” Natty chides, and then oh-so-casually decides to drop this nugget: "They all like you, you know, they'd be more than happy to break this dry spell of yours if you just asked. Don’t act like I haven’t seen the way you look at Julie."
You can feel your cheeks reddening. You’re not a teenager. You shouldn’t blush at this shit. But here you are, falling for Natty’s words and their magical abilities to needle at your insecurities and fill your head with thoughts of her friends and all their... well, incredibly positive attributes.
Natty pounces on your lapse in composure and gets closer to the camera, crouches. Drops down so she’s on her heels and all you can see in that tiny window of your phone is the red of her plush, plump lips.
“Come, you pussy—”
“Natty—”
“Do it pussy—”
“Natty, if you think that’s going to work—”
“Pussy, pussy, pussy—”
You’re yelling down the phone: “Fuck, fine!”
Natty’s victory dance is already in full swing before the words have even left your mouth. Bouncing around her room in pure joy at once again having ruined your evening. Dancing in that barely-there outfit, treating you to entirely sinful ripples across her curves and dips, pure sex on a pair of toned legs. Really makes you wonder how the fuck is she not illegal in at least fifty different countries.  
You hide your face in your hands, because there it is, the reason you’ve never really been able to deny her:
Her laughter, her energy, her fucking shameless glee whenever she manages to get her way (which, if you’re keeping count, is every single time).
She’s just so frustratingly adorable.
Somewhere in her celebrations, Natty finds exactly what she was looking for. Reaches down to the floor, picking up a belt—no, that’s another skirt—this one even tinier than the first.
“Oh, this is perfect,” she preens, holding it out to the camera (to you), before stepping right into it. She spins around, making it dance around her hips. It does wonders for her thighs. "How do I look?”
You swallow. “Like you’re going to get fucked tonight.”
The glint in Natty’s eyes. Like you’ve just served up the finest compliment on a silver platter. You feel sorry for whatever poor soul crosses her path tonight.
Natty winks. “Here’s to hoping.”
Guess what?
Turns out you were right: this is the worst place in the world.
Only, you’re the sole person here that seems to think that.
Hours have passed since you helped Natty look perfectly fuckable and you’re at the bar, trying and failing to get the attention of the bartender. Unfortunately, he, like every other male with a beating heart and a boner seems far more interested in Natty’s little dance routine than his thirsty clientele.
You can’t blame him, really. It’s built in how she moves.
Strobe lights cutting through the air like knives, slicing her into this series of absolutely pornographic snapshots as she dances. And she’s not alone, she has friends—beautiful, all of them, in their own ways. They spin and twirl around her; but Natty’s the sun here, the star that everything orbits.
(You included).
You see it play out—the Natty effect. Men, even women alike gravitate to her, drawn by that magnetic force that is Natty at her very best. Trying to get a dance, maybe whisper a line they stole from some movie in her ear, even dare to reach out to touch or press themselves up against her.
But she’s a black hole, a dark star. Can’t get too close.
One by one, they’re swallowed up by the void of Natty’s disinterest. The shoulders slump, the smiles falter, and the hope in their eyes dies as Natty, with a simple flick of her wrist sends them stumbling back into the crowd, forgotten almost immediately.
And the whole time she’s doing this, she’s got you in her line of sight. A wink here, a smile there, a dance on its own; and all you can do is nod and pretend like you’re okay with all this.
You inhale. Deeply.
Her outfit looks even tinier in person.
You turn away for just a moment, shaking off thoughts of Natty, of her hips and their sway and her winks and her smile; attempting (and failing) to flag down the bartender once more.
This fucking night.
But, when you look back, Natty’s no longer on the dancefloor.
She’s standing next to you. Arms looping around your neck.
“Natty—”
But she’s not listening. Her eyes are darting around the room, searching for something—or someone—that you can’t see. Your stomach clenches, because that look on Natty’s face? That’s not her usual I’m-about-to-make-some-poor-soul-my-bitch look. That’s something else entirely. That’s fear.
“Shut up, I need a favour,” she’s in your ear, yelling over the thrum of the bass that’s rattling your ribcage.
You lean in, bend down to meet her, because, frankly, you’re worried. You’ve never seen Natty like this, wide eyed and shaky. Never seen her be anything but comfortable.
You’ve also never been this close to her. Felt her breath hot against your neck, felt her body press up against you, felt her softness, felt her—
Fuck, you should be asking her what’s wrong, but before you can even do that, the bartender's filling two shot glasses and sliding them over to Natty.
She takes one. You take the other. It tastes lethal.
Natty’s nails dig into the back of your neck, and she looks at you, intense. Words fast and frantic. “Just pretend we’re together, okay? For a bit. Until I can figure this out. Just—just keep playing along, yeah?”
You blink. The room blurs around you. You think you might’ve misheard. “What?”
“Be my boyfriend,” she says, taking a second shot before you can even digest the first. “I need you. There’s some creep and I need you. Now, please?”
You turn immediately, scanning the floor, but the lights and shadows make it near impossible to make out anything other than vague shapes and strobes of colour, let alone pinpoint a face. "Natty, where is he, I can—"
"No, no, no," she cuts you off with a shake of her head. “Focus on me.”
“Wait, why do I have to—”
“Oh, shit there he is—”
And then she’s kissing you.
Ending whatever argument you may have had, because she’s grabbing, pulling you in, and her lips are on yours and oh fuck, she’s really, really kissing you.
It’s a slap to the face, and you need to reel in from the sting. Because you’re already forgetting what you’re doing, forgetting how your limbs work, because Natty’s putting on the performance of a lifetime and you’re having trouble keeping up.
Her hands are in your hair, yours at the small of her back, and she’s pulling you close, squishing against you and the taste of her—sweet like candy and sharp like vodka—filling you all the way up.
Your tongue catches up, flicking against hers, licking inside of her mouth and she’s even convincing you—as if she’s the one that’s always been into the love at first sight bullshit and you’re the non-believer.
And it’s a problem, how right this feels. Because this isn’t what friends do—definitely not Natty and you. But still, you can feel her tension, her need for this to be believable; and you don’t dare to fuck it all up.
So you kiss her back, because that’s what you do for Natty.
You always do what she needs.
You’re about to pull away; this should be enough to have every single person here convinced that you’re hers and she’s yours. But Natty’s already sliding her tongue back in your mouth, pleading, “Keep going,” the moment a gap opens between your lips; and you’re diving back into the kiss without a second thought.
And then you hear it.
A flash of a camera.
A cheer.
A whistle.
Julie, Haneul, Belle—Natty’s friends, staring at you like proud fairy godmothers witnessing their own magic at work.
You break the kiss. You look down at Natty.
She giggles.
You feel like a fucking idiot.
"There is no creep, is there?"
Natty shrugs, looks up at you, and she actually looks—what is this? Shy? Embarrassed?
"There could’ve been," she says, her eyes wide and innocent, a mask. You see through her like you should have when she first wrapped her arms around your neck.  Oh sure, like she’s ever been innocent for a second in her entire life.
She’s far too smug for that.
You roll your eyes. You feel like every other idiot that’s ever fallen for a bat of her lashes and a peek at her tits. Hope is a hell of a drug, especially when Natty’s the dealer. And yet, despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirks up. "You're fucking insane."
“Maybe.” There’s a long pause. She’s staring at your mouth. She presses a finger to your sternum. “But I had to do something.”
It takes a second. What?
What does that mean?
You stare at Natty, lick your lips. Her taste still lingers.
“Ask yourself the same question I’ve been asking myself for months now,” she says, louder this time, her voice cutting through the noise of the club and hitting your ears with a sobering clarity.
You know what she’s going to say—what she’s going to ask before she’s even opened her mouth. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing too.
So, swallow hard, try to ignore the way Natty’s friends have gone quiet. Try to ignore Natty’s hand still resting against your chest, her eyes burning a hole right through you.
“Why haven’t we had sex yet?”
The blood’s rushing to your cheeks; the music's too loud, the lights too bright, and the room's suddenly spinning around you like a carousel.
Fucking embarrassing.
But Natty doesn’t crack a smile. She just looks up at you. Hopeful. Searching you, searching your eyes for an actual answer; and you already know what it is.
“Because, Natty, we’re friends.” You offer up a weak smile, hoping against hope that she’ll buy it.
But she shakes her head. “Oh, please. Like that’s ever stopped anyone before. Besides, if you want to put a label on it, call it whatever the fuck you want. I just know what I need. Do you?”
You sigh. She gets closer. And closer.
Until your nose is brushing hers. Until her breath is hot on your face, until your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your ears. Until her hand is sliding down, down, down, until it’s resting over your pants and oh, oh no, you’re straining.
You gasp. She smirks.
“See? You want it too. And I know you do, because, sweetie, your cock’s practically begging me to pull it out and shove it between my tits right here in front of everyone.”
She just throws it out there, so casually, so bluntly, she might as well be talking about the weather. And maybe, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just Natty being Natty, but fuck you can’t do anything but stay frozen still.
You’re letting her hand linger. You’re letting her touch you like she’s got every right in the world. You’re letting her because there’s a part of you—the part that’s growing by the second—that wants to see just how far she’ll take this.
“So, what is the real reason, ba-by?”
Because you’re in love with her. You’re in love with her, and you can’t just have casual sex with someone you’re in love with because it will ruin you.
But you don’t say that. Instead, you just tell her: “Timing.”
That makes her laugh. Has her closing what little gap remained between your bodies, until her tits are flush against your chest, and you’re coming to the conclusion that, yes, you did help her pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.
Perfectly, hopelessly, fuckable.
“Well,” she says, and she’s pulling you back down again and shutting you up with yet another kiss. “We’ve got all the time in the world now, don’t we?”
You’ve been here before.
Many, many times before.
You installed the showerhead and fixed all the cabinets yourself. Even secured the lock that you’re now unlocking with the digits that you coded.
But somehow, it feels like a first.
First time you’ve kissed her in the back of a car, pushed your hand up her skirt, felt the heat of her against your fingertips. First time you’ve pinned her against the wall of an elevator, made her feel just how desperate you were for her against her thigh, made her promise to be so good for you when you got to her door.
First time being pulled through the threshold, hands at your chest, tearing your shirt off you before you’ve even stepped foot in her apartment. Had her smiling against your mouth, because she’s won, again, and you can’t even bother to argue because you’ve lost to her so many times now that this shouldn’t be so surprising.
What is surprising though is how you’re naked first.
"Terrible, terrible taste." Natty's clicking her tongue as your shoes, your shirt, your pants are scattered along the floor behind you. “We’ll have to fix that.”
And then she’s moving on, hands clawing down your stomach to land at the waistband of your underwear, hooking her thumbs in and yanking down. You’re so obviously hard—you’ve barely made any effort to hide it from her—fuck, you pretty much flagged down the taxi with it.
"Holy fuck," is the first thing out of Natty's mouth when she takes a hold of you, feeling the naked weight of you in her palm. "You’re really not messing around, are you? I was expecting—"
"A sad, lonely little thing," you finish for her, because you've heard it before. "Yeah, you like to mention it a lot."
But Natty’s not laughing now.
She’s just staring. Almost reverently. She decides, her voice a little raspy, tinted with an apprehension that you never knew she was capable of mustering, "I like it. It's... massive."
You lean in, pressing your mouth against hers because if she’s going to say that, you’re going to kiss her, again and again, and there’s a strong possibility you're never going to stop.
She whimpers, gasps into your mouth, says your name for the first time—not some nickname, not a jab or an insult. Just your name, in your ears, like it’s something sacred.
You’re not a saint. You can’t ignore that.
Your cock jumps in her hand, and as if on instinct, she strokes you.
It's slow, purposeful. She's too good at this. Knows the right pressure, where to twist and wind her wrist. How to sweep her thumb over the tip, smear pre-cum over your skin, and this entire time she's staring down at your cock like she's discovered something new.
“This is going to ruin me, isn't it?” she whispers, and you nod, because your voice is lodged in your throat and she’s stealing the air from your lungs. “Going to fit so fucking nicely inside me. Fuck it’s going to stretch me.”
You groan, collapse your weight into Natty, press your lips against the column of her throat.
Both hands now, one underneath, toying with your balls, balancing them in her fingers, and the other doing its best to squeeze, to pump, to make you fall for her with every stroke.
“I can’t wait to ride this,” Natty kisses these words into your cheek, your jaw, leaves these marks all over your collarbone. “I wonder if I can fit it down my throat. God, can you imagine what it’ll look like between my tits?”
And that makes your cock throb.
Because face it, Natty has always had a way of getting into your head; is far too dangerous with her words, and she’s all too willing to abuse this power she has over you to get you do what she wants, which is now, apparently, fucking her senseless.
You let her, let her build and build this pressure, let it coil inside you, tighter and tighter. Until the need to feel her, all of her, is too much to handle.
Until you grab her, take her by the shoulders, push her—not hard, but firmly—against the nearest wall.
You’re not gentle about it, because Natty doesn’t want gentle. She wants rough, she wants passionate, she wants to be fucked and have her cunt worshipped by way of complete ruin.
She’s told you as much.
"That's more like it," Natty bites into your ear, grips your shoulders. She follows your eyes. "Let me guess, my tits?"
So, maybe she has caught you looking once or twice. Either way, you don’t care much for her top anymore, it’s served its purpose. You take a fistful of it and pull, ripping it right off her and tossing it to the floor with everything else that’s kept the two of you from tearing each other apart.
“Better?” Natty poses for you, puts her tits on display—and yeah, you were right all along. Fucking immaculate.
You take a hold of one, palm it; fill your hand with flesh, twinge those dark, plump nipples, because of course you’re going to. You’re going to pinch and squeeze and suck on them. You’re going to mark her like she’s already done to you. Mark them, with your teeth, with your tongue. Fuck, you’re going to make them yours.
But for now, you're just going to slap them, because you want to watch them jiggle up close.
You laugh. Natty does too.
"Much better."
And with that, you’re back on her. Kisses that are sloppy, wet, and filled with all the pent-up want that's been simmering for months. You don’t even know where to begin with Natty, but you start with her mouth. It’s a good place. It’s always a good place with Natty.
Her hand doesn’t stop moving, can’t, won’t. The friction is heaven; you just let her touch you, fuck her hand while you indulge in her tits. Get to know the weight of them, the balance, the softness.
A sigh into your ear as your tongue finally finds her breasts, deep and messy, sliding over her nipple—she’s already so sensitive, just a flick and she’s gasping. You’re not even trying to be precise anymore, not that Natty needs it, not that she needs anything but for you to enjoy yourself against her.
It all makes the room seem smaller, the walls close, surrounding you with the scent—cinnamon and sweat and something else that’s just her.
“See this is why fucking me is such a great idea,” she slurs against your shoulder, hand tightening, stroking you harder, faster.
You mumble an affirmative into her breast. It’s a miracle you can still stand upright.
“Isn’t this so much better than like everything else? Anyone else?” She sighs, breathy, sweet sounds, as she takes you by the wrist, guides your hand southwards.
Fingertips graze her stomach, trace around her belly button and lower; until you’re digging into her skirt and feeling the heat rise off her skin. She’s soaked right through her panties, dripping with it. Another place for your tongue to land.
“We can just be fucking honest with each other,” Natty’s explaining, eyes tearing when your finger pads her clit, pressing down just right. “You already told me all the things you hate. All the things your bitch exes never let you do.” And she smiles, wicked. “Never had the tits to give you.”
Christ.
“And I can get you to fuck me exactly how I want with this big, fucking cock,” Natty finishes. "We’re a perfect fucking match."
It’s at that moment you find the zipper of her skirt, tugging it down, watching it fall to the feet. Leaving Natty to step out of the tiny scrap of fabric she calls her panties; abandoning the sticky mess of cotton.
You take a step back, unlatch your lips from her tits, because you need to see it. Need to finally see her, see your Natty, see the Natty you've never allowed yourself to look at.
So, take your time, drink her in—because the way she’s standing there, the way she’s touching herself now; biting her lip, sighing your name. All but saying, ‘Look all you want, but don’t you dare look away’.
Look at the arch of her neck, the red you’ve left there, that trail you’ve burned down to her tits. Bruised and swollen from your tongue, your kisses, and yet still not marked enough. Follow the curve of her hips; how they flare out from her waist, the plush squish of her ass cheeks against the wall behind her.
You want to kiss her, from the tips of her toes to the top of head; all of her, every part of her, because now she’s going to finally let you.
Because now you're going to fuck her until all she knows is you, going to make her scream your name, going to make her beg for you to fill her with your cock and cum and never ever leave her cunt empty again.
That’s the plan, anyway.
But Natty’s got plans of her own.
“Didn’t you say,” Natty begins, sighing, circling her cunt in a rhythm that you’re dying to recreate. She licks her lips. “That your last ex refused to suck that lovely, magnificent cock of yours?
"Yeah," you stammer, at a loss for breath at just the sight of it all. “And weren’t you trying to find someone to fuck your brains out?”
Natty’s eyes light up; and there's that easy, charming grin that knocks you right off your feet. "You’ve always been such a good listener."
Natty's plotting to ruin you.
It's the only possible explanation for the way she's looking at you right now—on her knees, at the foot of her bed, flanked by walls painted an ugly shade of pastel pink and Natty's tits, sandwiching your cock.
You’d imagined it, thought about it when you shouldn’t have been thinking about it. Whenever she brought you to watch her perform, whenever she sent you pictures of her outfit of the day. But your eyes always went there. Straight to Natty’s tits, every time.
You knew they were big.
You’ve felt them, on accident (though they don’t seem like accidents anymore).
But now, to have them enveloping your cock, drowning your shaft in their softness, and to have her, staring at your face with so much fucking excitement as she gives you everything you’ve ever wanted—it’s surreal.
You’re dying to paint them white.
“Looks like you’re already about to fall apart, baby,” she teases, and it’s even worse now that she’s calling you these sweet names, saying them like she’s always wanted to, like she’s finally letting herself. “Couldn’t wait, could you?”
“Fuck, Natty—” you breathe out, your hands finding her hair, tightening, because that’s all you can manage to do when Natty’s in control. Like she’s always been.
“Mmhmm,” she hums, keeping her eyes on you, making sure you’re watching, even as her tongue flicks out to taste you. A slow, taunting lick to make you buck your hips, desperate to feel the suction of her lips. “You must have been dreaming about this, huh?”
You don’t bother lying. She already knows the answer. “Every. Fucking. Night.”
Natty’s smile spreads across her face, and she rewards you with a kiss, pressing her lips down onto the head of your cock; before sliding them lower, eyes fluttering shut with the first taste of you. “Well, what took you so long? All you needed to do was show me your cock and I’d have been happy to do it whenever you want me to. Happy for you to use my tits as your cum rag. You know that, right?”
She moves; and the sight of it alone—Natty’s tits wrapped around your cock, bobbing up and down, hypnotising you with the flicker of her nipples—up and down, up and down. It’s merciless, unrelenting, and she keeps talking, keeps kissing these sweet little words into your cock that makes your hips jerk, trying to fuck her tits faster, harder.
"Look at how perfect you look," Natty keeps going, "how your cock fits so snug."
The sounds she’s tearing from your throat as her tits take you, and she’s barely even started.
“But we can do better, can’t we?”
Her pace picks up, and with it, the tightness of your grip on her hair. She’s pushing the ample mounds together, squeezing, putting her whole body into it, into this new art she’s pioneering. Driving you insane with just her breasts, making you swell between them, throbbing as she works you over.
“So big," she’s panting from just the effort, the bounce, bounce, bounce of it all, "I can feel you getting so much bigger."
Everything’s going too fast, her tits are too soft, her lips on you too hot, and she’s drooling, her spit dripping down onto your cock. You want to tell her to stop, that you can’t take it, but Natty just keeps going.
"Fuck,” Natty mewls, pinching her own nipples, for you, for her. Pinching and rolling them, making them nice and stiff and swollen. “Let me just try and—”
She cranes her head, bends; takes your cock deeper into the warm, wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue darts out licks your cock, gets that sweet spot on the underside, makes you shake underneath her.
Natty holds you there, even as you groan, even as your hips rise; just licks, spits, sucks. Her mouth moving up and down on you, making a mess down your shaft, down her tits. Taking you deeper, deeper, until you’re fucking her face.
She moans around you as your hips buck and you push deep, desperate for it. Her eyes water, her cheeks hollow, and she’s got you. You’re in her mouth and she’s loving it. Loving the power she has over you, loving giving you what she wants, loving how you’re pulling her by the hair, desperate to feed her more of your cock into her throat.
Like your entire relationship has been building up to this moment—to Natty’s tits wrapped around you, her mouth all over you, her eyes on yours, watching as you fuck her face.
"Fuck, Natty," you grunt, your voice barely recognisable. "What the fuck—"
But Natty's just smiling, you’re fucking that smug little smile on her lips, and she’s taunting you. "Come on baby, keep going, keep going."
It’s utterly obscene—the smack of her lips around your cock, her slobbering all over you, her gagging, her moaning around you, looking up at you and asking, “Is that all you’ve got?”
You're so close, so fucking close, and she knows it. Moving her tits faster, faster, and you're about to blow your load all over Natty's pretty face, her chest.
But she keeps talking.
Even as you stuff her cheeks, even as you muffle her, “None of those other skinny bitches could do this, could they, could handle this big, fat cock?”
Even as you force her down, pull her by the hair, “You’ve been so obsessed with my body, so obsessed with my tits, haven’t you?”
Even as her tits slide off you and your cock smacks her across her cheek, “I always saw the way you looked at them, fuck I was showing them off for you, you just took too fucking long to notice.”
She won't stop fucking talking.
You finally snap. "God, are you ever going to stop?"
But Natty just laughs, bats her lashes. Slides her tongue from your base to your tip. "Maybe you should find something to gag me with."
Your hand wraps around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes go wide, to make her mouth pop open. She rolls out her tongue for you, and you know what she expects you to do, what she expects you to fill her mouth with.
But you don’t—instead, you fill it with your kiss.
It's deep, it’s bruising, it’s saying ‘fuck you’ in the sweetest way possible, without uttering a single syllable. Natty laughs against your mouth, a ‘fuck you’ right back with her teeth, biting down on your lower lip. Not breaking skin—not yet—but the promise is there.
Her hand leaves your cock to wrap around your neck, pulling you closer to her, her mouth eager for yours, and you don’t even think twice before you hoist her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Giggling again—another sound that’s going to be your undoing—before you’re both stumbling back onto her bed.
The mattress dips under the weight of your bodies falling back into it. Natty straddles you, presses her cunt down onto your thighs. So wet you can feel it on your thigh, leaving your skin sticky and stained with her. Your hands move to her hips, dragging her closer, so you can feel the friction grinding against your cock, making you ache.
She breaks your kiss, gasping for air. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide—seeing her pant like this, it’s not even fair. She’s just so fucking beautiful, like a painting you’re afraid to touch because you might smudge it.
You tell her as much.
She blinks. Blushes.
Grins.
“You,” Natty breathes, her hand trailing down your chest, finding your heartbeat, resting there for a beat, two, “are so fucking in love with me.”
You don’t argue because she’s right.
Her hand slides up your arms, nails dig in and she’s got your wrists, pinning them over your head. You let her. Let her grind herself against your cock, feel the warm, wet heat of her cunt against the tip.
She takes her sweet time, melting herself into you, pressing her tits into your chest, and you can feel her heart racing against yours.
She whispers, “God, I’ve waited so fucking long for this.”
You can’t even form a coherent thought, so you just grunt.
“I’ve dreamt about this so much,” she continues, breathless words sending shivers down your spine. “Your cock, fuck, it’s just as perfect as I imagined. And now, it’s all mine.”
And then she does it—she sinks down onto you, slow and sweet, her pussy taking you in inch by glorious inch. You groan into her shoulder, your eyes shut as Natty’s tight heat surrounds you. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before; sure there’s been others but something about Natty’s cunt is so intense it’s almost painful.
“So tight,” you grit out, the words torn from your chest like they’re made of glass. She just laughs, low, sultry, and starts to move.
It’s a dance, a rhythm that’s been building between the two of you for what feels like an eternity. She’s rocking her hips back and forth in this torturous grind. Fucking you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, like she needs to make the most of it. Like you’re going to vanish into thin air the second she lets you go.
“I knew you’d feel this good,” Natty sighs into your neck, already surrendering to your cock. “Fuck, I knew it—why did you keep this from me?”
You can’t answer, not really.
You’re too lost in the feel of her, too consumed by the way she’s moving on top of you. Every inch of her body is pressed against yours, and she’s so warm, so alive, that you can’t think of anything but how Natty’s finally letting you in. How she’s letting you make her whole.
But it’s too much. Natty’s cunt, tight and wet, fucking you so slow it’s a fucking crime. Pinning you down, a butterfly on a board spread out, displayed, unable to do anything but take her sweet, sweet punishment. And she’s whispering it in your ear, grinding down, rolling her hips, “Fuck you. Fuck you for keeping this from me,” with every stroke.
She’s doing it on purpose, you’re sure of it. Driving you crazy, making you beg, making you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life. Your hips jerk up to meet her, trying to speed things up, to get that friction you need, but Natty just pushes down on your shoulders, keeping you in place.
So you tell her, "This is fucking torture."
Natty just smirks, her hips never stilling. "Is it?" she asks, as if this all isn’t intentional. Like she doesn’t have some grand plan to ensure you never forget the things her cunt can do to you. "Do something about it then."
So, you do.
It takes more effort than you’ll ever admit, but you break her grip on your wrists, grab her hips, and flip her over, sending her sprawling onto the bed, face down.
The squeal from her. It’s music.
How her eyes go wide when you treat her like a ragdoll, how her tits juggle and bounce, smacking the mattress. And when you push down into her, slamming your hips into her ass, how she arches back into you, her back bowing like a fucking violin.
“Yes!” She cries, fucking cheers into the mattress, like she’s been waiting for this—for you to have had enough of her shit and take her without asking. “Yes, yes, yes—”
You hover over her, throb inside her. "Is this what you fucking wanted?"
Natty sighs into the bedsheets, urging her hips against you, begging without words, begging for you to do more.
“You want it rough, baby?”
“Yeah,” Natty says, pushing back against you again, nodding immediately. “If you can.”
Still with the provocations, unable to resist pressing at your buttons.
You grab her hair, yank it back so she’s staring at you, force her to look at you. And you fuck her hard. Fuck her like you’ve wanted to since the first time she walked into your life and decided to make it all about her.
You fill her with deep, long strokes, fill the room with the smacks of your hips colliding against her, of your cock thrusting into her cunt again and again.
She claws at the sheets, trying to find purchase, trying to push back against you. But you’re too strong, too desperate.
You pound into her, impale her with your cock, watch her face twist in pleasure, in pain. You’re fucking her like you’re trying to break her, like she asked. Trying to solve her—how hard can she take it, how deep, how fast.
But Natty won’t give you an answer, she just takes it all—every inch, ever pump into her sopping wet cunt. Just grins and takes every bit of your need, your frustration. A bottomless pit of pleasure, begging for more with every whine, every little noise she makes that’s not quite a scream but is so close that it rattles your brain.
And when you finally let go of her hair, Natty’s licking her lips, and without even a care for what it does to you, she coaxes, “You can do better.”
You don’t know how she can talk right now, how she can even think with your cock so deep inside her, but something about the way she says it makes you want to test the limits of her ability to stay coherent.
But first, there’s the problem of her ass.
“Let’s see about that,” you murmur, dragging your hand down her spine, feeling the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, and coming to a stop at her perfectly rounded ass. It’s a masterpiece, a work of art, and you’ve always had a bit of an artist’s soul.
You do what comes naturally.
A spank against Natty’s ass. Hard, hard enough to make her yelp.
Again—another slap, another yelp, louder, better.
You keep fucking her, keep spanking her, keep watching red bloom across her cheeks and Natty squirm underneath you. The whines get louder, her cunt gets wetter, but it’s still not enough to dull that smug look on her face.
“Fuck yes,” Natty gasps, raises her ass, presenting it to you like a trophy for you to claim. “I always knew you had it in you.”
You grab her hips harder, your knuckles white, your hand a blur as it connects with her ass. It’s so explicit, the sound of it in the quiet of Natty’s apartment—each spank echoing through the room like a gunshot.
But Natty just takes it, her body jolting with each hit, her cunt tensing and tightening around you.
“God, don’t fucking stop,” Natty sputters, tears of pained pleasure leaking from the corners of her eyes. “You’re using me so good.”
You lean down, kissing hard against her neck, branding her shoulder. You want her to feel you, to remember you. To not be able to ever feel remotely good again without first thinking of you.
"It's your fucking fault, Natty," you growl into her ear. "You drive me mad."
And she laughs, the sound vibrating through her body and going straight to your cock. "Good," she answers, "Good. Be mad. Be angry."
But you’re beyond that now, beyond the point of no return. All that you know is Natty’s cunt, Natty’s ass, Natty’s moans, and Natty’s grin that you’re aching to wipe off her face.
"Fucking hate me if you want," she’s saying, and she can’t seem to stop, "just don’t stop fucking—ah!”
You nearly stop when you realise you’ve finally done it. Finally left Natty out of breath, lost for words. A fucking miracle, really—the kind that makes you feel like a fucking god.
It doesn’t stop her cunt clenching around you, tight as a vice, because even now, Natty’s got some kind of death grip pussy, and she’s using it to fucking kill you.
You whisper in her ear, “You like that?”
Her only response is a breathy, needy little whine, so you spank her again.
And again.
Her cunt tightens. She’s close, so close. You can feel it.
“You like it when I use you, Natty?”
She nods, her eyes screwed shut, her mouth crying into the mattress, a mess of hair and sweat and utter bliss.
“Say it,” you demand, slapping her ass once more, watching as the pain ripples through her. “Say it.”
And Natty does, because she’s a good little whore, because she’s yours now. “Yes, yes, I like it when you use me, when you fuck me like this, when it’s only about you, your cock, your needs, your pleasure—”
God, it feels good to hear her say it, but you still want more than just words. You want her to fucking scream it.
You make the bed shake, knock the headboard against her wall, it’s a competition of what’s going to break first—the frame or her.
“This cunt. Your cunt. I’m going to use it. Fuck it whenever I want.”
But Natty catches you off guard, because that’s what Natty does best. She opens her eyes, looks right into yours, and suddenly she has her voice again: “Whenever I want. You’re going to fucking move in with me.”
You freeze. Your hand mid-spank. Your cock mid-thrust. It throws you entirely off, because, what the fuck?
"You're going to be my boyfriend now," Natty says, wrenching back control, fucking her ass back into you. Stating not asking, leaving no room for argument. "Move in with me, your place sucks anyway."
"You're out of your fucking mind," you start to protest, but she cuts you off with another squeeze of her cunt around you, and now she’s the one fucking you, her hips rolling back and forth in this maddening, sinful way that has you biting down on your tongue to keep from shouting.
"Move in and just fuck me every day," she says, all light and airy, like it’s already been decided, like moments ago you didn’t have her dead to rights. "Morning to night. It would be so fucking nice."
This is real, you know that for sure. It’s not just something she’s saying to get off, not another way to get under your skin. You know it in her voice, she’s deadly serious and suddenly your mind’s racing.
"Come on," Natty purrs, punctuating each word with a slap of her ass against your waist, "You know you want it, why fucking wait?"
She’s not wrong. It makes too much fucking sense to deny. And yet, part of you still can't believe it. That Natty, the girl who's had countless men at her feet, could have any man at her feet, actually wants you. That Natty is underneath you now, eyes glossed over with need, mouth swollen from your kisses, ass cheeks flushed crimson from your palm.
"I'll take such good care of you, baby," she says, unaware that she’s already completely won, unaware that her cunt already has you bending to her will. "Every day, every night.”
You can't help but nod. You're too consumed in her to do anything else. You just let go of everything. The fears, the doubt, the fucking logic.
And Natty says it, the three words that seal your fate—"I'll love you," she cries out, "I'll fucking love you forever if you just keep giving me this fucking cock."
It's like the world stops, like everything you've ever wanted is right there in front of you, wrapped up in Natty's tight fucking body.
You're so close, so fucking close, that you can almost taste it—the sweet release of your orgasm; giving in to Natty’s unbelievably sensational cunt sleeving your cock, pulsing with each thrust, desperate to milk you dry.
There’s nothing left to do but give Natty wants. Fuck her, hammer into her so hard that you’re going to fuck a Natty-shaped hole into the mattress, fucking shatter her bedframe, and then keep drilling her straight through the floor.
And she’s crying out your name, forgetting about everything that isn’t you, isn’t your cock, isn’t the dream of your cum filling her to the brim and spilling out of her cunt every single day for the rest of your fucking lives.
“Are you close, baby? Are you going to cum for me? Please, give it to me, I need it so bad, I need it now, because I'm about to, about to, about to—"
And then it happens.
Fucking destroys her.
It hits. A crescendo that peaks as you bottom out inside her, shaking her to the core. Her cunt spasms about you, her body rises off the bed as if you’re performing a fucking exorcism, and she screams your name so loud it’s only a matter of time before the neighbours come banging on her door.
"Oh my fucking god you—"
Natty gushes around your cock, juices running down your shaft, your balls, and she’s squirting. Oh god, she’s squirting all over the fucking place.
Natty’s body goes rigid, her back arching so much it’s like she’s trying to fold in half, crying, sputtering these words that don't even make sense—until you realise she's speaking an entirely different fucking language.
Not that it matters, because you can tell what she's saying, read it in her body, in the way she's spurting and making a big fucking mess beneath your bodies. Whatever she’s saying sounds utterly depraved, filthy and so, so good to your ears.
It keeps going and going, until she has enough sense to speak your language again, needing to make sure you hear it when she says—"fucking fill me, baby," she whimpers. "Give me everything, all your fucking cum."
And it’s your turn to be hit—like a fucking freight train.
You're cumming, hard and fast and out of fucking nowhere. Your balls tighten, your cock throbs, and you’re flooding Natty’s cunt.
It’s biological, in every cell of your body—like your entire being is coming undone, and the only thing holding you together is Natty, Natty, Natty.
Her body shaking beneath you, her cunt contracting around your cock as wave after wave of cum fills her up.
She’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect, that you can feel every pulse of your orgasm, every drop of your cum spurting into her. You're not sure how long it lasts, how much you give her, but it’s enough to make your muscles shake, enough to knock the architecture right out of your limbs.
"So fucking good, so fucking good," Natty coos. "Fucking finally, finally filling me up so good."
Her moans a lullaby, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body with every syllable. You lean down, burying your face in the crook of her neck, your every inhale and exhale ragged as you try to catch your breath. Still twitching inside her, still releasing the last of your cum, and Natty’s just lying there, her body limp, her eyes closed, basking in it all.
"So perfect," she keeps repeating, right up until the very end, “So, so, perfect.”
You collapse on top of her, just lie there shivering together, your face next to hers. She’s got this look on her face, a victorious glow, and you just have to accept it. Yeah, she’s won again, in devastatingly convincing fashion.
For a second, you’re both just that—spent, exhausted, entirely drained. Like you’ve just run a marathon. Or been in a fight. Or both.
Then Natty’s got the nerve to stir, to kiss your cheek with the tenderness of a whisper. Lips softer than you thought possible, given how hard she’s just been fucking you. And that’s it, the moment your body decides it’s had enough of playing dead, enough of lying there like a sack of potatoes.
You roll over, bringing Natty with you, her body curling into yours like she’s been made to fit there. Her head rests on your chest, her legs entwined with yours, and for a moment, you just hold her close.
It feels fucking right.
"Tomorrow," Natty sighs contentedly, her cheek finding home atop your heartbeat.
You blink. "Tomorrow?"
"Yeah, you're moving in tomorrow." Natty’s deciding for you already, setting the dynamic for the rest of your future. Doing all this with her eyes still shut as she snuggles closer to you. "I'll hire the movers."
You sigh, the weight of the world and Natty's body both feeling surprisingly light. You think about the next few days, the weeks, the years even, with Natty. The idea is so ludicrous, so absurd, that it feels like a fever dream.
But as you hold her, feel her warmth, her unabashed, blatant satisfaction, something inside you shifts. A reframing of the concept of Natty that you hold in your head. The thought of her naked body in your bed, her laughter in your living room, her mess in your kitchen—it doesn’t feel like an intrusion, it feels like home.
"Are you sure?" you ask. A little shaky, a little hopeful.
Natty opens one eye to look at you, a laugh playing on her lips. "Oh, you know I'm going to be the worst fucking roommate ever."
"Yeah, I can see that. But as long as you keep being the best fucking everything else..." Your words trail off into a whisper, your hand tracing idle patterns on her back.
And then she says it again.
"You’re so fucking in love with me."
Natty kisses you hard, deep, her tongue sliding against yours. And you know, you fucking know, that she's right. You are desperately, entirely, so fucking in love with her, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
You laugh, the sound a little desperate, a little wild, and roll her again, pin her down again. A strange feeling rushes through your mind. Like you’re going to be repeating this exact same motion for the next hundred years. And somehow, that doesn’t sound like the worst thought in the world.
Natty squeals, cheers, moans when you settle between her legs.
"Fuck you, Natty."
"Oh, baby," Natty giggles, reaching down between your legs, squeezing you. Once. Twice. Until you're filling her hand once more. "That's what I'm here for."
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metranart · 2 months ago
Text
Imagine Gojo, Geto and Nanami anointing you as their “little darling”, forced to share you because they refuse to NOT have you in their life. You didn’t expect this kind of attention, it was ridiculous the way they took the time to make you feel… loved.
It wasn’t just the occasional pampering or the intense lovemaking sessions that they took SO seriously. It was EVERYTHING! It was visceral and addictively cathartic the way, they worshipped you.
Sometimes they got competitive, Gojo pulling you away into a hidden space, only to turn you around, throwing his jacket to then pull you on top and line your pussy up perfectly with his needy cock before plunging forward with a solid gasp that followed a thousand moans and groans, he didn’t mind being loud, he prefers it that way. Let them know, he thinks, jealous vibes tainting his greedy thrusts.
“Am I not your favorite, baby? I know I am, you don’t have to pretend nor be quiet about it just to be nice to them… they’re not here, tell me how much you like me… I want you so bad… Do you want me?” Gojo is always the most talkative, sweetening your ear every second, all in hopes to get you so distracted that when he cums inside you don’t suspect that the rubbery sound from before was from candy wrapper and not a condom. He’s sneaky like that he has to be, when the competition for you is so damn fierce.
Unlike Geto who is smoother in his approach, whose large hands greedily grab your hips as he pulls you back down onto his cock with every thrust, and it feels so undeniably perfect that you can’t even hold yourself up, arms like jelly, strength failing as you’re face down on the sheets, ass in the air to be fucked like a proper bitch.
“Satoru can be so careless, you have marks all over your body, my love.” This man kisses and caresses you with such fervent devotion that your heart skips more than a couple of beats, “-tell me if you need a break, I won’t pull out, I CAN’T-” he sounds apologetic and so damn needy that you melt a little more for him, you love when he’s shamelessly possessive, “but I’ll slow down. Boy Scout word.” That playful, understanding smile always gracing his lips, eyes too soft and warm only when he sees you. “It doesn’t bother me if I’m not your favorite, it just bothers me that you don’t know that you’re mine.” Geto is like balm, that quiet adoration is more addictive than cocaine... Geto is smart, he knows Satoru too well to know what he’s on to, but…. It is of no use to brand your body from the inside, if he does not first have your heart beating just for him. Geto is so damn, smooth.
But it's Nanami who surprised you the most, he was the calm one, the serious and stoic sheep in the flock, yet, in private and ONLY with you, heat and hormones cloud his mind, you cloud his mind and his better judgment as you moan shamelessly, wanting more and more as he fucks you good and hard before there's a hand sneaking under your belly, a thick finger begging to rub circles on your clit.
"Nanami-!! Oh GOD!" He knows how to get you vulnerable and needy, he wants to tattoo those sensation in your brain, for you to associate them with him, just him. Moans escape you, heat building as his hand plays with your sensitive nub relentlessly, sliding it, rolling it, even pinching it to elicit more lewd cries of pleasure.
"Sorry for being so damn needy, baby, but I don’t know how to hold back-… if I’m honest- I don’t want to find out how- …" He always is honest, too blunt and honest, full of a secret mischief and roughness, his original plan was to make you beg for him not the other way around, he was weak, you made him weak and he loooooooved it! 
"You want nothing more than to cum…. for me to make you cum, I can tell that goal isn't far away... fuck!" His hips quicken the pace, as he holds you down, pinned against the surface he’s thrust you into. “Your legs are starting to buckle and shake with each of my thrusts." This blond is relentless and dominant, he’ll let his body do the convincing for him. "Do you love when I hold you down, fuck!... you do, huh?” This side of Nanami is secret, dark, and so ‘eyes rolled to the back of your skull’ satisfying, that has secretly become one of your favorites.
The anthem in this polyamorous relationship is the bed creaking incessantly in time with those powerful thrusts, the headboard crashing into the wall, headboard that’s been replaced more than once in one month. Funny, how they swear and live for your wellbeing but when get closer to their climax, dull nails dig into the softness of your skin, strong grips become more determined, and your clit is worshipped into overstimulation, a painful pleasure you are still getting used to.
“Cum for me,” Sukuna growls, his request sassy as he lowers to a deeper, more possessive tone that makes something in your belly crave. His composure breaks as your climax begins to build, refusing to let go until you’ve peaked first. “Cum on my cock and show those petty sorcerers that you are only MINE!"
You wake up startled from that dream, and the first thing you check is that you are indeed wrapped in that tangle of limbs that is Gojo, Geto and Nanami. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, what the hell was that!? The strong, irregular throbbing inside your chest must have woken him up since his head lay in the valley of your breasts, and Gojo peeks up to see you with those sleepy and worried eyes. 
"Did you have a nightmare, sweetie?"
Did you?
➡️🔞 FULL NSFW ART of this drabble
➡️ 👀 NSFW Sneak Peek
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crepezinhos · 2 months ago
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Mummy or Mommy?
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POV: What happens when you take the quote: ‘Halloween is the only day a woman can dress up like a whore and not get criticized for it’ too seriously to a point where your own best friend can’t handle it?
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⚠️ WARNINGS:
— This is a NSFW Oneshot
— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns
— Bondage, blindfolding, hair pulling, slight mommy kink and a lot of degradation.
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“What the fuck were you thinking, huh?” He grunted in your ear while brutally fucking his cock inside your pussy over and over again. “Dressing up like some fucking cheap slut… You were looking up to this, weren’t you?” His passion while degrading you was noticeable, which just made your horny pussy grind around him even more.
You wanted to innovate this year’s Halloween party, but not this much.
Your costume was simply thick white stripes tied around the core parts of your body, leaving your legs and belly mostly exposed although it was a considerably cold day. It obviously called most people’s attention, including your friends. All the girls thought you looked sexy and praised your efforts with the makeup, but Scaramouche, one of your few male friends, but your best friend, didn’t actually say much.
He spent the whole party quietly staring at your body up and down, avoiding any comments, even when you asked for his opinion. You two only found yourselves fucking in the house's bathroom when you were alone with him in a sofa and you asked why did he have a pillow in his lap. It turned out he had a boner... an aching one.
“Ass up, mummy whore.” Scaramouche slapped a buttock of yours, causing your whole body to quiver.
Although Scaramouche has never shown off himself to be a common guy, you'd never expect him to be so aggressively kinky. He had pulled the bandages you had in your face up to blindfold your eyes and the ones in your arms to tie your wrists in the towel hanger of the room. He also almost ripped apart the ones in your boobs and crotch just because he was that desperate to see them. It was definitely humilliating and it would take you a while to redo all of that work, but you couldn't deny that being manhandled like that was making your pussy throb in pleasure. Scaramouche was incredibly good at .
“Fuck, Scara! Slow down!” You tried turning your face to him to beg for mercy, but that pathetic look of your blindfolded face and ruined makeup just made his cock twitch in arousal.
“Oh-ho? Begging already? But I have barely started yet...” He mocked you, continuing to hammer you in the same pace. “But maybe if you admit that you’re a cock-hungry slut, I might change my mind.” He proposed a game to you, leaning closer just to tease you further into that mind-numbing pleasure.
“F-Fuck! I am a cock-hungry slut who whore this outfit to have your attention!” You screamed whatever came to your mind at the moment to make him feel satisfied. “Y-You look so fine dressed as a vampire, I couldn’t just ignore it..! It got me so wet when I saw it…” You babbled between your outrageous moans.
“My costume, huh? I bet you’re loving to have your wrists tied up by my jacket then…” If he knew that you’d be such a perfect slut for him and his necessity to fuck rough, he would’ve done it centuries ago.
“Y-Yes! I love it! I love being dominated by you like this!” You suddenly felt your hair being pulled in his direction, which caused you to scream in shock and slight pain while your body spasmed and your eyes mired stars.
“Then, right after this, I want you to wear it for the rest of this party. I don’t want anyone else seeing you in this outfit, you hear me? No one. From now on this outfit belongs to me.” He whispered in a more dominant tone that took you off guard.
Scaramouche was melting your brains and muscles, causing them to be useless to you, especially now that you were cuffed and arched to him. All you could do in such position was to nod to his orders and moan, and you were shamelessly letting every single one of them out of your mouth, which made Scaramouche’s ego skyrocket. Having his hot best friend inflating his ego by acting and dressing like some cheap, submissive slut was ecstasy to him. It even made him feel a little emotional than he expected to feel since you were a nice and t(h)rustable friend.
Perhaps he likes you more than a friend? Or was starting to like? That’s something he still has to reflect about later because all he wanted was to milk your pussy dey right now.
“Such a fucking perfect slut… Who would’ve guessed that you’re a hidden masochist whore under that pretty face of yours?” He let go of your hair just to hold your hips with more precision, but still kept his back leaned close to you so he could put his tongue to use.
He started in the side of your neck, kissing it and licking it already aggressively. He was focusing specifically on the muscle of it that was slightly stretched out because of the position you were in.
“You taste so fucking good…” He purred while his warm breath made your skin sweaty. “I might just suck you until you’re bleeding…” He laughed at his own pun, but immediately went back to his mission of fucking you until you regretted your choice of costume.
But you had just acted so mean to him this entire party when he was supposed to be the mean one in the group, he had to scold you back to your submissive place.
The way you walked up to him when you two first met and immediately spoiled him that you weren’t wearing any underwear was enough to make him fantasize with his hands ripping your costume apart to see your nudity under it. There was also the way how the lack of bra usage made your boobs jiggle with every movement you did, especially when you were dancing, which made his eyes completely stone in them for most of the party. Of course it got him hard and quickly. But the way you laughed at him when you found out he had a boner was what triggered him into scolding you in his own peculiar way.
“Tch…” He got a little annoyed remembering those moments. “You were so proud of yourself some minutes ago… mocking me and laughing at my boner… But look at you know… getting off with me referring to you as a cheap slut… It’s pathetic, really, but I’m proud to be the one that will teach you about knowing your place…” He ranted while admiring every single moan that came out of your red lips, who had some chapstick dragged outside of them because of the sloppy kisses you shared while he prepared you for his cock.
He took a look to the side where the mirror was located.
God, he thought he looked so sexy with those marks of your chapstick kissing him in various spots of his face and neck… it all just made him more praised by you. And the way your crotches moved in rhythm made him feel like he was watching his own personal porn movie.
“Oh? Suddenly getting extra tight here?” He grunted huskily while he felt your pussy suddenly tightening around him again with no warning. It was like it was trying to milk an orgasm out of him desperately.
“G-Gonna cum!” Your voice was already becoming hoarse in exhaustion, which made Scaramouche just more thirsty with what he was doing to you.
“Perfect, because I’m cumming too and you’re gonna take it all inside, ok?” His pace managed to become even more erratic, punching your cervix with no care at all while his hand ran under your belly and started circling your clit violently just to make you more helpless under those cuffs.
“Yes, yes! I’m gonna..! I’m gonna!!” You were desperate for your climax, screaming like you were going to die.
“Come on, whore.” Scaramouche slapped your ass again, trying to stimulate you into climax the fastest he could with that jolt of pain.
And finally, both your bodies had that moment of peak together. Scaramouche sliding a thick and long string of cum inside your womb, and you exploding cum all around his cock. Your scream was feral and his grunt was very powerful, both of your bodies shaking and twitching with that peak, enjoying every noise you heard from each other.
“F-Fuck!” Your body quivered while he spilled his burning seed inside you, demonstrating how overwhelmed you were feeling. But no matter how much your body agonized, he still kept his hips stoned in place, looking forward to brand you as his with that load of cum.
“Good girl… taking all of me inside even if it is too much for you like a true-spirit whore…” He giggled meaningfully while gently tapping the same buttock he slapped previously, watching you twitching in a sadistic kind of joy.
He quickly pulled out, wanting to check just how much you came around him. His cock was entirely wet and full of stains of your essence.
“Look at this mess you did in me… Oh, you’re absolutely cleaning this up.” He reached a hand to his jacket and pulled it away from the hanger, making your body finally become free again. Since your legs were extremely weakened by sex, all they could do was crumble and kneel down in the floor, your face resting against the cold white wall.
But your moment of break didn’t last as much as you needed it to. Scaramouche was determined to make your ruined face suck, still blindfolded. That’s why your hair was suddenly fisted by his hand and forced to turn around.
“Say ‘ahh’…” He rested his cock on top of your lips, aching to make its way inside your mouth. His hands also moved to your fringe, pushing it all the way to the back of your head until he could clearly glare all of your face breathing in and out exhausted.
“Ahhh…” You obliged to his orders and stuck your tongue out, which impulsed him to immediately place his cock on top of it, pulsing to feel your warm tongue licking it like it was your source of water.
You, thankfully, obliged to that too and started licking him up and down, all around his length, since you couldn’t see where he was stained. You looked so destroyed licking cum like a kitten, but that made you look so beautiful to his hungry eyes. He deadly wished he could spend more time messing with you, but the constant knocks on the door to go inside the bathroom were annoying him to a point he wanted to kill whoever was doing that.
“A-Are you clean now..?” You asked while pulling yourself out of his range, a chord of saliva connecting you and his cock for a second before it fell in your chin.
He took a look at his cock, meeting it perfectly clean transparent, but still wet with your saliva, while using a hand to wipe your chin.
“Yes, I am… Good girl.” He patted your head gently while grabbing a piece of toilet paper to finally wipe his dick dry. “Get up.” He shifted his tone as soon as he zipped his pants back to their place.
With the help of his hands, you stood up, still struggling with your shaky legs. But Scaramouche held you against the wall while rearranging you with a knee. He firstly took off your blindfold and tried tying it back to its spot in your forehead, which made you also available to help him out. Of course you didn’t look perfect. Your mascara and lipstick were ruined and you couldn’t get the straps in breasts back to their place, unless you took it all away from you and did it again.
“Shit…” You complained while looking at yourself in the mirror by your side.
“Here.” Scaramouche grabbed his jacket from the floor behind you and handed it to you.
God, he looked so much better without that jacket on him, although it did add more to his costume. But now that his wine-colored dress shirt without most buttons attaching to their hole was all he wore in his chest, it made him look twice sexy to you, especially since some of the many kisses you marked in him were visible there.
“Thanks…” You were a little embarrassed now that sex was over. “You might want to button your shirt again.” You started dressing his jacket and he immediately started closing up his buttons.
“Thanks. Can you walk?” He asked while reaching for the door, also awkward.
“I… don’t think so…” You looked away, but Scaramouche simply took your worst in his hand.
“Come… let’s get out of here.” His look was surprisingly very calm and smooth to you. A version of Scaramouche you’ve never witnessed.
“What a gentleman I got myself tonight…” You mocked while he opened the door.
“… Shut up.” You two finally stepped out, meeting a man right in front of the door that seemed to be waiting to use it for a long time.
Scaramouche ignored him, but you felt a little guilty and embarrassed to know that some minutes ago you were fucking with your best friend with degradation kink.
“Hey, you two! Where the fuck you two have been at?!” I’ve been looking for you two for hours!” Your friend in common, Faruzan, suddenly showed up in front of you two, dressed up as a sexy cat, but when she noticed the differences in your costumes, one of her eyebrows frowned. “What the hell happened to you, Y/N?! Weren’t you supposed to be a mummy mommy? You look like an actual mummy!” She laughed at you, but then she realized that you two looked awkwardly sweaty. “… Don’t tell me you two fucked.” She looked a little concerned.
“She was the one trying to fuck actually.” Scara suddenly started arguing with her for you. “Found her drunk ass trying to hit on Alhaitham. Even showed her boobs to him, but she failed so bad, she can’t even stick the stripes back.” Scaramouche and Faruzan started cackling together at his fake story, taking advantage of the fact that she was a little drunk to invent a really weird lie.
“Alhaitham?!” Faruzan acted like she had just heard the gossip of the year to you, who just stared at her still exhausted.
You breathed in and out.
“… Yeah, I tried.” You looked away, and she started cackling again.
“Oh my god! You’re sooooo stupid! Out of all hotties you could hit on here, you picked that geek?! Even Scaramouche was a better option!” She couldn’t hold back her giggles, barely spilling her alcohol out of her cup, while Scaramouche smirked at the unintentional compliment.
“Yeah, I know…” You avoided eye contact with Scaramouche.
“Let me take her home now. Her legs are, like, barely working.” He finally started talking more serious.
“Ok, ok! Don’t try hitting on him too, you silly!” She pointed at Scaramouche while talking to you, and finally walked away.
As soon as she was out of your way, you two went back to normal
“Really..? That was your lie? You’re lucky she was drunk enough to believe it.” You mocked him.
“It worked, so shut up.” He brushed you off, finally opening the doors to the exterior. “So you think I’m a better option than Alhaitham?” He asked in the same aroused tone he was using in the bathroom.
The cold air of the night immediately hit your bodies, making you shiver a little bit since your costume result wasn’t made for fall. You didn’t expect the weather to change so much in such a short matter of hours.
“Please… not even if he was as ugly as you.” You scoffed at him.
“That wasn’t what you were saying some minutes ago, mommy.” He opened the door to the backseat of his car.
“Are you trying to take me home right now? I’m fine! I still want to party! Gosh, and you can’t even let a friend sit next you…” You tried pushing him away, but he resisted and looked at you ready to laugh.
“… Don’t tell me you didn’t figure out we’re gonna fuck in the backseat.” He giggled at you.
And then you remembered what he previously told you before walking you around.
“I can’t predict the meaning of every puzzle that comes out of your mouth!” Scaramouche simply smirked and pushed the both of you in the cushions and smacking the door shut.
“You’re just slow.” He shrugged his shoulders while positioning himself between your legs. “Now… let’s go for round two. Shall we, mommy?” His pun made you smirk in anticipation.
“Sure… try being more gentle this time.” You shrugged your shoulder while sliding the zipper of his jacket down again.
“Gentle?” He laughed for a moment.
“I’ll fuck your brains out of your head.”
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Taglist: @alatusorrow @shyentsfoundherink @luminieee @the-stinky-winky @kindofshyent @amoyanderes
Happy Halloween for all the Scaramouche whores! 🎃
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deepestnightcolor · 11 months ago
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☾ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☽
ᴀ/ɴ: I am already back with a new fic for Sam. I am in a groupchat with some amazing people and I decided to write some ideas out that were thrown around. I hope you enjoy! Maybe I will do Alex or Elliott next... Anyway, thank you so much for your time! ✧
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader
ᴡᴄ: 3884 words.
ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, doggy style, cursing, unportected sex, drooling, exhibitionism, public setting, teasing, creampie, hornyness all around.
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Sam’s mouth was watering, and the sole reason for it was you. Sam had fallen in love with you the moment you had stepped foot into Pelican Town yet had never managed to utter a single word about it. But now, the blonde was absolutely hammered, and that allowed him to shamelessly stare at you. Pupils blown, chest heaving and falling quickly, his eyes were focused on your ass while you were bent over the pool table, focused on your next shot in your game with Sebastian. The only thing that kept him from dropping on his knees and begging to be allowed to suck on those slender fingers wrapping around the cue was the fact that he still wasn’t sure if you liked him back.
When you wiggled your butt a little, a small groan passed his lips. It was desperate, and rough, making the attention of the room fall on him. “Are you okay, Sam?” You asked, worry in your voice. “Yeah…yeah…Yeah, ‘m fine… just gonn…you need help, dontcha? Winnin’ against Seb, I mean,” he slurred, pushing himself up on his legs, steadying himself using the pool table. Sebastian cocked his pierced brow; Sam sucked at pool when he wasn’t drunk, and now he was absolutely shitfaced. What help could he be?
Sam placed himself right behind you, pressing his crotch against you a bit, hoping – no, praying – that you didn’t catch on that he only did that to feel you against his growing buldge.
Though you were a smart girl. The feeling of his erection didn’t go unnoticed, but you kept up your pokerface. “I guess I could use a little help,” you murmured, voice coated in innocence. You leaned forward, smiling up at the oblivious Sebastian. “Sorry, I told you I haven’t played in ages,” you explained, directing the black-haired man’s attention back to the game. He shrugged nonchalantly, waving off your comment and watching you adjust the cue, but Sam had seemingly become hyper focused. He leaned over you, shaking hand gripping your wrist. He was so close, so close to you. He could smell you and feel you. If his mouth was watering before, now it was drooling. He had dreamed of this so often, having you bent over under him, and now he had, and you didn’t even notice his ulterior motives.
A thought that was disproved when he felt it. You pressed your ass against him, circling your hips just ever so slightly to cause friction. An accident? Sam didn’t care. The whine that slipped couldn’t be caught anymore; the despair obvious. The need to beg for you to at least let him feel you for one night, even just a single hour, maybe just put the tip in you if that was all you wanted to give, hanging onto his tongue by a thread. The only thing that kept him from speaking was a pair of attentive eyes that were placed on him.
“‘S…’s a bad position,“ Sam slurred in a weak attempt to explain himself, but he didn’t even really care. He cared about you, boxed in-between his wobbly arms. He could lean down, kiss your neck, suck on it. Leave his wet marks all over you – and who would stop him? “He’s right,” you mused, shifting yet again. This time you rubbed your ass from side to side as if to figure out how to stand, making sure to add pressure against his dick. Sam was creaming in his pants by now, his knees wobbling as he lowered his head. He licked his lips, hot breath hitting your neck.  The goosebumps that appeared made him want to drool all over you, but still, he cleared his throat and guided you into a sloppy shot. Trying to stay strong, not to make it too obvious. But fuck, your gentle grinding into his cock, the way you pressed into him – he swore his cock was about to burst right then and there for you, and if you kept it up, he’d cum in his pants in the saloon.
“Damn, Sam. You wanted to help her win, not make her lose. Maybe you should step back,” Sebastian grunted, an obvious edge to his voice, yet he would have never expected his best friend to actually growl at him in return. That was the only way the sound that radiated through the blonde’s chest could be described; it was deep and rough, almost threatening. Possessive, even.
While it shocked the other man, it sent a shock straight through your whole body. It was enough for you to put your cue away and stand up straight, giving Sebastian a small smile. “I think it’s time we get Sammy boy here to sleep.”
„Ugh, drunk like that? It’s best he sleeps on the couch here, Jodi’s gonna flip otherwise… and I doubt I can drag his drunk ass up the mountain.”
Perfect.
“I’ll take him to the farm, then. Until our ways part we are about halfway there, you can help me drag him.”
Sebastian sighed dramatically, but put the cue away, which probably signalled his agreement, or at least you decided to take it as such.
Both of you draped one of Sam’s arms over your shoulders and made the strenuous way up to your farm, Sebastian stubbornly staring ahead, while Sam was slumped between you. His cheeks were red, but the way you looked at him made him wheeze. The look that he gave you, so lustful and horny, eyes drowning in need, made your legs buckle every now and then, straining a grunt from Sebastian that now had to basically drag two whenever you did. “You sure you want him on your farm? I can stay over-“
“No,“ you interrupted, flashing him a quick, reassuring smile. “You’ve got to work with Robin tomorrow, and she will freak out if you’re not there. Besides, I have a guard dog, and if this fella acts up, he’ll be sent to the doghouse.”
Sebastian smiled a little and nodded, the thought of Sam sleeping in a small hut clearly bemusing him. Smacking his friend on the back, which almost sent the poor boy tumbling over, Sebastian turned. „Behave, you hear? Or I gotta whoop your ass.” With that and a wave, he began to make his way home.
“So…,” you began when Sebastian’s silhouette had blended into the deep night, looking at the blonde hanging onto your shoulder. “What was all that about?”
“All…hicc… what about?”
“In the bar. You drooled on my neck.”  
Sam giggled at that, tilting his head back as his laugh became deeper. “Yea…that-…that probably was ‚cause I really fuckin‘ love you…an‘…an‘ cum in my fist every night thinkin‘ of fuckin…fucking you.”
If that wasn’t drunken honesty, you didn’t know what else would be. “But  I didn’t know hoooow to tell youuuu. So, don’t tell on me, m’kay? Don’t want ya to..hate me, ya know.”
Chuckling quietly, you pushed a strand of hair out of his, face, dragging your lower lip between your teeth. “You know who you’re talking to, right”
“Mh..course. My little farmer princess.”
“And you know what I did to you in the bar?”
“Mhhhhm. Was so close to cummin‘. Still…still am.”
“Do you know what could mean, Sam?”
“That… you suck even more at pool than me?”
You snorted, head tipping back as you laughed. Yoba, he wanted to lick down your throat, down your body, devour your cunt. He wanted to taste you so, so bad. He could have bet that you had the prettiest pussy he would ever lay eyes on, and he would make sure to worship it. With slow licks, the fast ones, by spelling his name on your clit and with your legs over his shoulder so he could get into as much contact as possible.
“No, Sam. I’m into you. I have been for a while. Didn’t you ever notice me flirting? Not even when I told you you should show me what else those fingers can do than play guitar.”
Silence.
You could literally see the corks in Sam’s head reeling, trying to connect the dots of the information that had just been relied to him. “So…ya…like me back?”
You rolled your eyes, deciding that in this state, only actions seemed to count for Sam. Words took too long to process. You leaned down to kiss the man deeply - an opportunity he leaped at. His tongue immediately dragged over your lips, coating them with the taste of alcohol. The moan that left you was to his advantage, he shoved his tongue into your mouth clumsily, letting it run over yours, licking at it as if he was starving. His hands had found your body for support to stop himself from swaying back and forth. “Need ya…need ya so bad. This kay?“ He slurred against your mouth, pretty blue eyes staring at you, begging you without words.
You bit your lip and tried to steady Sam again, “Come on, let’s get to the farm, we can…we can-„ Sam’s mouth hit yours again, his teeth sinking into your lips gently. You moaned again, tugging at his hair, but your surroundings made you pull away and tug at him him. “Let’s get to the farm, I need you,” you ordered, setting a rather fast pace for drunken Sam.
He whined, begged and pleaded, but in the end, he strolled with you, legs buckling and wobbling, and the lack of blood in his brain seemed to make the short path to your house even longer. The fabric of his clothes rubbed against his buldge so uncomfortably, and the way your hips swayed when you walked brought him close to tears. He wanted you. He had wanted you for so long, he couldn’t wait any longer.
The moment you reached the bus stop, Sam dropped to his knees, almost making you fall over due to the sudden weight shift. “Sam! What are you doing?”
“Fuck…fuck, please. ‘M beggin’ you. ‘M so fuckin’ hard…it hurts so bad…shit, you look so pretty for me,” he gasped, rutting against his hand that he had rested in his lap. The moonlight hit you so perfectly…you looked so amazing. Amazing enough for him to throw his head back, now gripping his length through his clothes. “Pretty please,“ he added, helplessly looking up at you. You bit your lower lip again, your own knees growing weak. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs, and it was hard for you to not just let him have his way with you.
“But what if anyone is gonna see us? We can’t risk being caught. It’s not that far anymore…”
“No! No one will see us!” Sam cried, “I promise…promise I’ll be quick. I’ll be quiet. Anythin‘, princess. Pretty please. I beg you. Please. I’ll be good. Just…please.”
You seriously doubted the value of a completely horny, drunk and in love person’s opinion, but before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees, kissing Sam sloppily.
The blonde immediately pounced on you, pressing his crotch into yours, his hands seemingly everywhere. “So pretty,” he panted against you, kissing down your jaw, down your neck, and then he already lapped at your throat. You seemingly felt him everywhere at once, making you moan out lowly.  That only urged Sam on more. He wanted more. He wanted to hear you, smell you, taste you, feel you. He wanted you. No, he needed you.
“You know how often I’ve dreamed of fucking you?”
It was just a murmur against your neck on which he greedily sucked. “How often I’ve dreamed of holdin‘ you in my arms? Pretty baby, makin‘ you all mine.”
Sam had seemingly sobered up a little but that didn’t help much – he was was already intoxicated by you again.
He tugged at your pants and at his at the same time, trying to get them both off at the same time, causing you to laugh out breathlessly. He gave up his attempt and back, licking over his lips.
“Need you so bad,” he repeated while he unbuckled his belt, struggling out of his pants.
You licked your lips and opened the button to your pants much slower, pushing them down your long legs centimetre by centimetre. Blue eyes were glued on you; Sam’s mouth hung open as he watched you, tongue hanging out just slightly. He was pretty sure you could see his dick throb against his already wet boxers, but fuck, who cared? He sure didn’t. The hunger in his eyes made you shiver, no man had ever looked at you like he did, and you were sure he was already fucking you in his head.
“The panties,” he stammered, making you grin to yourself. “The panties. Please, princess. Take them off. You’re so wet already, fuck, please, I- am pretty sure I’m gonna die if you don’t.”
“You mean these?” You teased, gripping at the waistband and letting it snap against your hips. The blonde groaned, the force of the sheer lust hitting him almost making him drop forward again.
“You want them off?”
He nodded, eyes yet again filled with tears. “Yoba, please, yes…need…need to see your pussy.”
“Then take them off.”
Sam was incredibly quick to move, much quicker than you had deemed in the range of possibility, he did have a lot of drinks, but he was on top of you the moment you gave the go. He pushed your shirt upwards and messily pulled your breasts from your bra, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He trailed his tongue around it, before switching sides, his hand trailing towards your panties already. He let his finger glide along your slit over the fabric, growl escaping him upon feeling your wet spot. “All that teasing gotcha wet, huh?” He hissed, biting your nipple gently before he slowly licked down your cleavage, staying in-between your breasts for a moment longer, just inhaling deeply and leaving his love bites. You smelled so good, so sweet; it was hard to not get lost in his in his need. However, after a moment he picked up his journey again and licked down your stomach, until he finally reached the hem of your panties.
The night air began to fill with moans that tumbled out of your mouth, the eagerness you were treated with leaving your cunt pulsing. By now you felt a need similar to Sam’s, making you pretty sure you needed him all over you to ever think properly again, even though right now, you were far from it. He let his fingers run up to your exposed chest, gripping your nipples between pointer finger and thumb and rolling them gently. “Lift your butt,” he ordered, almost smiling to himself when you did. He gripped the lace of your panties with his teeth, slowly tugging them down. You shuddered when the cold night air hit your hot wetness, and Sam moaned lowly upon seeing your cunt.“ Look how beautiful. Such a sweet little cunt…all for me, isn’t it? All for my cock and me,” he rambled, having to sit back on his heels for a moment. The beauty of your almost naked body had him dangerously close to the edge, and he would have forever hated himself if his own dick cockblocked him right now.
“Sam-“
“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty baby.”
You sucked in air through your teeth, eyes dragging down his body. He was hard as a rock, and you were sure his boxers were about to rip, so you slowly settled on your hands and knees. Maybe it was also because you just needed to be absolutely stuffed with cock.
You tried to wait patiently, even though your own need made that incredibly hard, but you couldn’t risk getting Sam distracted. His gaze seemed to burn holes into your back, making you shift around on your knees. Then you finally heard shifting and the gentle sound of skin smacking against skin.
“You are so ready for me, baby,” he murmured, his fingers spreading your drooling lips slowly. One of them pushed inside of you, low groan falling from his lips. He curled his finger and then thrusted it knuckle-deep, breathing in sharply upon feeling you basically pulling him in. You were so wet and warm… and he could finally get his dick into you. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to be ripped apart by the feelings tumbling around inside of him, and you were the only thing on this whole planet that would ease this ache he had for you.
You felt his finger leave you and whined, wiggling your ass in the air. Much to your surprise, a hand came down on your butt, forcing you to yelp out Sam’s name. “Teasin‘ me all night already,” he slurred, pressing his tip against your soaked hole. “And it worked…”
With that, he slowly pushed himself inside of you and the world seemed to disappear.
All he could hear was static, and the sound of his own heartbeat, mixing with your moans. He was pretty sure the world could explode and he wouldn’t have blinked an eye. All he could think about was how good you felt; despite only having the tip in, you sucked him in deeper already.
“This okay?”
You nodded eagerly, pushing back against his dick in a desperate attempt to get more. Yoba, you needed more. This time it was you that wanted to cry and beg for him, but Sam seemed to pick up your silent prayers.
His hips shoved forward eagerly; it seemed like your walls were made for his cock. You fit so snuck around him, cunt welcoming him with a wet sound. The two of you moaned and you had to rest your head on your arms to keep at least your butt up in the air for Sam, the promise of being quite long forgotten. Centimetre by centimetre Sam pushed inside of you, making sure to take his time, to really split you in two for him and only him. One of his hands was resting firmly on your hip, the other cupping one of your breasts. When he was balls deep inside of you, he abruptly stopped, his penis twitching violently inside of you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had just had his orgasm, and when you turned around you could see his eyes watering. You were about to ask, yet the thought was immediately cut off when Sam pulled back and rammed back into you.
Suddenly you could feel the weight of his upper body on your own as he angled himself to get better access to your sweet cunt.
“Mine, all mine,” Sam panted into your ear as he began to pick up a fast pace, humping you like an animal in heat. The sound of his balls smacking against your wet pussy and the way his pelvic bone hit your bare ass created sounds lewd enough for anyone within a kilometre to know what was happening. Neither of you cared.
You were a moaning mess beneath the blonde, and he was whimpering, close to sobbing your name. Sam sucked on your neck to mark you up, keep you away from dirty, greedy eyes such as his own, his cock bullying into you at a fast pace; your walls sucking him off so well. His eyes rolled in the back of his head when he felt you clench around him as he began to gently circle your clit.
“Like that, huh? Like when…I do this?” He snarled, licking his lips and kissing down your spine; a task that was rather hard given that his hard thrusts made your whole body shake.
“Sam!” You sobbed, trying to meet his thrusts desperately as if you just couldn’t get enough, and Sam was happy to deliver. He pressed you into his body and fucked into you as if his life depended on it, tongue hanging out and droplets of saliva falling on your back.
You swore you could see little fairies dance around you when Sam hit your sweet spot, this combined with his relentless spelling of his name on your clit made you approach the edge with fast steps.
Sam wasn’t much better – he was staring at his thick perverted cock vanishing into your pussy, spreading open your sweet little hole with each thrust. He loved to see how he forced wetness out of you with each thrust, and he swore to himself he’d make you cream.
“Sam, fuck, Sam! I’m gonna cu-cum!” You cried, the thought of if you could maybe wake someone with your needy cries for dick crossed your mind, but it quickly turned into arousal. You would love for people to hear how well Sam was fucking you, how mean he was to your cunt, snapping his hips back and forth mercilessly, accompanied by the sound of his skin smacking against your reddened ass that by now was sporting a red handprint. 
“Gonna cum, Sam, gonna cum!” You slurred, feeling his wet tongue trace patterns down the side of your neck again. White light flashed in front of your eyes, your toes curled up as you felt your face growing numb.
Sam’s whimpers and small groans had turned into dragged out whines, adoring how you let him fuck you out here near the bus stop. He wanted people to hear you. Show them you were his and his alone. He would have loved for each of the guys to see him ruining you, so they’d keep their hands off. Seeing how his cock vanished inside of you with each thrust, how his precum and your juices were mixing together, dribbling down his shaft. The thought of them seeing you sprawled out and crying for him and the feeling of you drooling all over his throbbing dick, begging for more was enough to push him over the edge.
His body tensed up, a cry of sheer pleasure was being bellowed into the night as his orgasm washed over him, his cock pressed deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum inside of you was too much. You sobbed his name, fingers wrapping around strands of grass as your body convulsed, the numbness that caught up to you soothing as you clenched around your lover’s dick, making it hard for Sam to move. The blonde gritted his teeth, his thrusts slowly slowing down as he hung his head; his breathing hard and laboured
You were lying beneath him, panting as well as your hand slowly searched for his. Upon finding it, you intertwined your fingers, and for a moment you two just sat there, Sam’s dick still buried inside of you, your hands interlocked.
“Round two when we reach the farm?” You whispered after a while, despite having his cum drip out of you as he pulled back slowly, making Sam smile like a lovesick puppy.
“Round two when we reach the farm.”
What the two of you didn’t notice was the text from Sebastian’s number that made the screens of your phones light up. Nice show. Make it less obvious that you want to fuck next time or send me videos so I can rewatch.
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back2bluesidex · 1 year ago
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Seven Days a Week - JJK (18+)
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Pairing: Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: PWP, SMUT, Fluff if you squint
Wordcount: 1k
Summary: Jungkook promised himself that he will be fucking you right seven days a week.
Warnings: Soft sex, vanilla sex, missionary position, Jungkook is soft with her but kinda persistent (in a good way), creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up). NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: Permanent Taglist is now updated. Also, I hope you are suffering with me.
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“Jungkook… I am still sore from last night.” You breathe out, voice barely a level above of what they call a whisper. 
‘Oh yeah? Then should I go slow right now?” Jungkook’s voice gets muffled as he nips on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His hands are lost under the blanket, tracing the lines of your body ever so gently. 
“What I am saying is- ah” you get interrupted as Jungkook grabs your left inner thigh and squeezes it hard enough to make your core leak instantly. He really knows your body too well. 
“What I am saying is” you attempt again, “we could skip fucking today.” 
“If it’s what you want then we won’t fuck today.” Jungkook replies. His lips do an incredible job in leaving wet kisses all over your throat and collarbone. 
“But baby-” his hand now hovers above your wet core as he works his way to cup your heat through the thin material of your panty, “-your cunt says otherwise. I think it’s begging for some attention.” 
You let out a low moan before playfully scoffing at your unbearably handsome boyfriend, “is that so? Or is it your morning boner that needs some attention?” 
“I think both of us are at the same place, baby. So let’s help each other out, yeah?” he gets up from his position, taking his hands and mouth away from you for a bit. Reaching for the sheets, he throws the blanket off of your naked body and hovers above you. 
“You are very sly, Jungkook.” You smirk at him. 
“Nope. I am just devoted to you. And my devotion is deeper than the ocean.” he replies briefly before reaching down and kissing your mound through the lace of your underwear. His teeth do their job of grabbing the hem of the panty, pulling that down to your ankles and leaving your glistening cunt exposed for his view. 
“Fuck. So fucking gorgeous.” He talks to your cunt. His left thumb files on autopilot and lands on your clit. He runs his thumb up and down through your slippery folds. You murmur his name shamelessly as he puts the pad of his thumb flat on your clit before proceeding to rub gentle circles on it. 
One of the many things you love about Jungkook is his duality. Last night he fucked you dumb, it was animalistic to say the least. But right now he is softer than he has ever been. He gently handles you as if you’re a fragile porcelain doll. 
Jungkook warps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking on it lazily. He flicks the hardened nub with his tongue and you lose your shit a bit. 
His middle finger probes into your entrance. You hiss at the contact. 
“Does it hurt?” he asks, staring at your face while his mouth stays close to your nipple. 
“A bit. But I can take it.” You reply, giving him a small smile. 
“Good girl.” he places a soft kiss on the swell of your left tit. His finger plunges right in you as he teases your walls for a bit. 
“Do you think you can take me in now?” Jungkook questions. You nod in affirmation. 
He climbs off the bed in order to strip his boxers off. 
You take the opportunity to admire this marvelous piece of art disguised as a man. His dark disheveled hair falling on his neck, that lip piercing that makes you wanna taste the metal every now and then, that build chest and toned abs that make you weak on your knees, every single thing about him complement the way he carries himself. He knows his effects all too well and the smug confidence makes you fall for him harder and harder. 
Your boyfriend starts hovering above you while positioning his cock right in front of your entrance.
“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” he breathes out, putting the tip of his cock inside your hole. 
“Okay.” you reply. Your hands find their way around Jungkook’s neck as you pull him down for a kiss. 
The kiss is soft and slow, neither rushed nor hungry, and you love it. 
He slides inside you easier than your anticipation. He gives you time to adjust before he starts moving slowly. His body crashes yours as he puts his weight down on you. 
Grabbing your thighs, he locks those around his torso to bottom you out. His pace gets faster with each passing second but it doesn’t get too overbearing. You feel nice, you feel way too good, oh sweet lord, you feel heavenly. This is the first time you are having slow sex with your boyfriend ever since you got together. 
Honestly, you both are too kinky to have vanilla sex and the prospect of the same never really amazed you. But right now, you can’t seem to wrap your head around the pleasure you are feeling despite the complete lack of dirty words, groping, grabbing, and so on. 
You feel the familiar heat building at the bottom of your stomach. 
“Jungkook, I am close.” You whisper in his ear, which is right beside your lips as your boyfriend is way too busy sucking bruises on your skin.
“Hold it for a bit. Let’s cum together.” he mumbles against your throat. 
With a roll of his hip, he hits your g-spot and you feel your eyes rolling at the back of your head. 
“Now.” Jungkook commands and you cum on his cock. A second later he fills your cunt with his hot white disposal that messily runs down your inner thigh and drops on the bed sheet.  
Both of you pant for a bit and then you manage to voice, “Do you really have to fuck me everyday?” 
“Well, I promised myself, I’ll be fucking you right seven days a week.” he smirks.
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Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie, @coffeedepressionsoup, @meowstake, @vonvi-blog, @nochuel
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misctf · 3 months ago
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i don't get it, why are the jocks nice to me? No one else notices me, the socially outcasted and alone BC I don't fit in anywhere , I'm. Not smart, athletic or real hot, all I do I quietly draw
But the jocks, along with the cheerleaders come up to me and chat, they seem like really good ppl, a lot of the times they all show up in their football kits and cheer uniforms,
Idk how I got into this situation, how am I ? The so not special guy, hanging out with the most popular ppl in the school.
There all so hot, athletic and nice to me, if only I could play football to any extent, so I could play with them 😅
“Dude, sick drawings. You an artist or somethin’?”
When Chet approached you in your college’s library, you were initially surprised. As someone not used to the attention, you were taken aback by the muscular hunk in front of you. His tank-top showing off his impressive arms. The shit-eating smirk plastered on his handsome face, conveying his confidence. You blush and meekly replied that you liked to draw. His dumb chuckle fills the room.
“Fuck bro, you’re talented.”
That was a few days ago. And ever since then, you couldn’t help but notice all the attention you were getting. A few of the other jocks on the football team approached you, all clamoring about your artwork. Even a few of the cheerleaders came up to you, gushing over your art and how cute you were. It didn’t make much sense to you, but you weren’t complaining. If anything, it made you want to get closer to them. Besides, it felt nice. And for the first time in a while, you felt special.
When Chet sent you a text asking if you wanted to hang out, you felt nervous. Even if they were nice to you, the idea of hanging out seemed like a huge next step. You initially declined, but he practically begged you to come by. Although somewhat anxious, you agreed. And before you knew it, you were standing outside his dorm room. When he opened the door, you were initially taken aback by the musky smell. And it became all too obvious that he hadn’t showered, or done laundry in weeks. But you were a bit more focused on his exposed torso. His meaty pecs and abs on full display. The outline of his cock shamelessly displayed in his grey sweatpants. That same smirk plastered on his face.
“Fuck yeah dude! So glad you could make it.”
You look around his relatively empty room. Besides the beer cans, dirty clothing, and gaming set-up, it was pretty plain. There were a few Chemistry textbooks messily scattered on his desk. Odd, you think, he didn’t really seem the type. But also on his desk were a few drawings. Or at least attempts. They weren’t nearly as good as yours, but it looked like he was trying.
“Yeah man, you inspired me.” He chuckles, “But I ain’t no artist.”
That much was evident. You reassure him that practice makes perfect and laugh awkwardly, but he just stares at you. His eyes glisten with a hint of mischief. And before you know it, he crushes his lips to yours. Your eyes widen as he passionately kisses you, and you can taste the beer and protein shakes on his breath. He breaks the kiss and smiles.
“Come on, let’s see what you’re packin’.” He says, helping you remove your shirt.
His hands roam your body. Compared to him, you lack muscle. And years of avoiding the gym and eating whatever you want has certainly given you some pudge. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He continues to feel your body, and you moan at his sensual touch. So caught up in the moment, you fail to realize the impact his touch is having on your unimpressive body. How your fat begins to dissolve away, leaving you thin and lean. But not for too long. You grunt as your muscles come alive. Contracting and relaxing rapidly. Building on themselves. You wince as your biceps pop into glorious existence. Your triceps follow quickly and you lean into him as he caresses your new arms.
“What’s happening...”
“Don’t worry.” He reassures.
He kisses you again, and this time you feel a heaviness in your chest. Your pecs expand rapidly, forming two bouncy muscle tits. He squeezes your hardened nipples, sending a wave of pleasure through your growing form, and you nearly pass out as he gives your pecs a firm squeeze. Abs pop into existence soon after. And you groan as your already hard cock expands further, adding at least an additional 5 inches.
“Almost there.” He continues.
And this time, when his lips collide with your new cock-suckers, you feel something is wrong. It’s as if he’s sucking something out of you. Draining you. But as your mind continues to dim, you don’t really seem to care. You lean into his kiss willingly. And when you do, your eyes glaze over and become half-lidded. Any intelligence you may have had is gone. But it’s so much more than that. Your skills as an artist are quickly stolen from you. Any potential you had, stolen by the handsome jock in front of you. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he can’t help but grin at the dumb, vacant look in your eyes.
“Fuck bro, that was great.” He says, wiping some drool from your lip, “Thanks for that. Who needs art lessons when you can just take it, right bro?”
You nod and chuckle, more drool falling from the side of your mouth. You look down and bounce your pecs, totally enamored by your hulking body.
“Huh, usually we’d let ya join the team.” Chet says. He snaps his fingers in front of you, without getting any reaction, “But, I doubt you have the brains to follow even the most basic instructions.” He smirks, “But I’m sure I can find another way for you to play.” He slaps your muscular ass, “What do ya say, waterboy?”
So maybe you don’t get to play football with the team how you wanted. But the team certainly enjoys playing with you. After every game, they’d find you in the locker room with your ass up. Ready to help them wind down after a tough game. Rest assured, they certainly still think you’re special. And they still give you plenty of attention. So have fun, bro.
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chaepink · 1 year ago
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(re-sent) hello dear! i just found your account and i adore your content, i don't usually bump into writers with preferences for femdom!readers and i'm here for it! keep it up ‹3
could i bother you requesting a drabble/oneshot for fem!softdom!reader x sub!tenya iida? in which reader decides to go to tenya's dorm just to find him enjoying some alone time (since he missed reader so much), he thinks they're going to get intimate, but reader tells him to continue as she watches (ocassionaly kissing his cheeks/earlobe and marking his neck). iida might get a little too desperate for touch so he starts begging for a hand or two for help, he can't do it without her. (reader calls tenya: "baby", "hun", "iida". tenya calls reader "baby", "darling") plus: he's a soft moaner ‹3
i hope this isn't too much! no hurries in writting this, i hope you have a nice day/night! —♡ (i made a few subtle changes, i hope you don't mind!)
Your Own Private Show | sub!iida tenya
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wc: 740+ words | masterlist
dom!reader, fem!reader, consensual voyeurism, masturbation, begging, pet names, marking
note : i am SO sorry that this took so long, it got lost in my drafts 😭
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"ah!- f-fuck.. [name] please!" You and your hand hovering over the doorknob freezes. Is iida?...
Your heartbeat quickens as the noises keep flooding your ears from iida's room. Whines, sobs, pleas. He adds your name to each and every single one of them. He's begging for you.
With bated breath, you quietly and slowly open the door and holy shit was you not ready for the view on the other side of the door. As if he is posing for a portrait, his head is thrown back, his cheeks are flushed, and his body is exposed as he sits on the bed. His legs are spread almost as if he was used to it. And well, he rather is.
He looks absolutely breathtaking.
And well, the thing that takes your breath away the most is the thing right between his legs.
His cock was red and there was a little pre-cum on the tip. Iida's hand was rapidly stroking it and it looked absolutely sinful.
You can't help but walk in, attracting your boyfriend's attention. He whines as you continue to stare at him, his hand stopping.
"p-please..." You raise an eyebrow.
"Please what? Please help you with your little problem?" He whimpers at you. "Aw," you say with a feign pout, "is my iida all hard and horny?"
Iida shivers at how possessive you sound as you say the word 'my'. He nods as he looks up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging you to help him.
You walk over to him, making sure to take your very time. You stop right in front of him, eyeing him up and him. Iida's breath hitches as you duck down towards his ear. Your hot breath makes him shiver and he lets out another whine.
"How about you put on a little show for me first, baby?"
Iida's freezes and as realization dawns on him that you won't be touching him anytime soon, he pouts at you. He reaches to try to grab your hand but you manage to dodge his grasp. He lets out a yearning whine.
You shush him with a finger to his mouth, silencing him. He stares at you with pleading eyes, his hand still wrapped around his dick.
You lean towards his neck, slowly biting and sucking on it. Iida lets out a soft moan when you bite down rather harshly, making sure it'll bruise for a few days.
His body trembles as you continue to suck and lick his neck, leaving a trail of marks.
With a hand placed on his hips, you begin touching his body all over but making sure to avoid his dick and other sensitive parts.
"Go on, Iida. Touch yourself." Iida hesitates a little but starts to slowly touch his dick. Even though he's embarrassed to do this in front of you, the pleasure pushes away that thought and he begins to shamelessly bucking his hips into his hand.
Little 'ah's and 'please's fill the room along with his whines and pleas for you to touch him.
"T-Touch me, darling. P-Please!" You chuckle a little.
"But i'm already touching you, darling. Or is it here you want me to touch?" You raise an eyebrow at him as you point towards his aching dick. He nods frantically at you and you coo at him. He continues fucking into his fist but you start to see tears well up in his eyes.
One of your hands goes to touch his dick and Iida lets out a whine. It doesn't take long until iida is begging you to cum with moans and whines that follow after. Your hand replaces his hand on his dick as Iida's hips begin to jerk into your hand, desperate to chase after his release.
After a while without you, he feels as if his orgasm is coming quicker than usual and before he could warn you, he cums all over his chest and your hand.
Eyes wide and chest heaving, iida flushes red at how quick he came but when you continue to pump his dick, he gasps.
"Baby w-wait." His shaky hands try to push your hand off his dick but it doesn't budge. Rather, you just speed up your movements.
"You wanted me to touch you, right?" You give him a grin that makes Iida's dick twitch and a whimper to leave him. "Well be a good boy and sit still for me, I'm not done yet."
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
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leaf-line · 4 months ago
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For the request, can I please have Yandere Topaz, Jade, and Ruan Mei x people pleasure reader headcanon (seperate).
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𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭
Yandere! Topaz/Jade/Ruan Mei x Gn! Reader
❏ In which your selfless deeds catch someone's attention for no good reason.
cw: suggestive themes, dehumanization, isolation, brainwashing, non-consensual (french) kiss, Ruan Mei being gross.
w/c: 1,484
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"Care for a drink Miss Topaz? Maybe I can help with your problems..." You offer a juice to her, and a hand. Co-worker [Name], a diligent worker in the Strategic Investment Department, seen around doing favors and extra work just for everyone... But why won't you just help her and only her instead?
"Oh, thank you! And no thank you, I can do these all by myself, how about you take care of yourself, and take a rest? You're always so helpful, [Name]." Topaz takes the juice gratefully with a smile.
"No... The same goes for you, Miss Topaz, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here having this position." You bow your head before hearing someone call you.
"[Name]! Do you have anything to do right now!? I need you assistance with this—"
"Yes! Yes! Coming right up!" You scurry to the voice, but not before giving a little wave to Topaz.
She returns the wave. Before looking back to the screen... And frowns. "It's only a matter of time." She mumbles.
Oddly enough, in the next three days after just being in the IPC, you were announced as Topaz's own personal assistant.
"This is... A bit surprising... But I look forward to being your assistant from now on, Miss Topaz." You smile, she smiles too.
"No, Jelena is fine, you're my assistant now, right? You don't need to be formal. I just have one rule... Don't assist any other workers from the IPC if it's not me, alright?" She orders.
"May I ask why...?"
"I simply don't want you to be led astray from your work, now, am I clear?"
What... a weird request, but you follow it nonetheless. For one day, that is, you only lasted one day, when that another co-worker of yours, begged for your assistance, you couldn't refuse, you weren't trained for that.
"Awh come on, [Name]! Just because you're now Topaz's assistant, doesn't mean you don't have to help your other co-workers too!" The person in front of you moaned.
"I'm sorry but, Miss Topa—Jelena advised me not to—"
"It's just very little work, it won't kill you will it? Just help me."
"...A-Alright, fine..."
...After that time, you never saw that same co-worker again the next day, from what you've seen, he was fired from his job because of workplace harassment, you don't know if it's true, you doubt that it's true... and Jelena... didn't seem happy when she confronts you about your deed.
"Didn't I personally said to you that you shouldn't assist anyone other than me?"
She sighs and shakes her head disappointedly. Your back was facing the wall as she pushes up her thigh below your crotch.
"I can't believe you would just disobey me that early, maybe I should start teaching you and training so you won't be pushed around from others like that."
Teaching you and training you like a pet, that is. A cute, little pet who won't disobey her master. That's what Topaz shamelessly labels you as.
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You walked into the pawn shop nervously. You swallow, feeling like you've entered a dangerous territory.
"Welcome to Bonajade Exchange. Who are you? And what do you seek?" An unfamiliar and elegant voice rang from behind the curtain.
"I wish... To help my friends." You mumbled out loud.
"Hm? Why is that?" Though you can't see her, you can feel her smiling through her lips. "Are you sure you're here for the sake of someone else?" She muses.
"They've... Been struggling with expenses, I don't know what offer you but myself... I owe them many." You tell her with a sad tone.
"You're sacrificing yourself for the sake of your friend? That's very noble, we can arrange that. Though, since you're here at my pawnshop, I'd like to hear what you want for your own self."
"No need. I'll do what I can to help other people." You fidget, yet say with full honestly, Lady Bonajade senses that. There is not single greedy bone in your body, fellows like you were rare, it's about time she found a rare gem, just like Jelena.
"I see," She raises the curtains. "In exchange for other people's needs, why don't you work at this shop?" She offers.
You cleaned the pawnshop, bargained for Jade, advertised the shop for the people in need. You kept the store running, but you didn't show any signs of uplifting the profits into another level, you were just a side piece, keeping the shop regulating like normal, and it was insufficient for Jade.
But it's fine, Jade doesn't leave an exchange until she gets real value.
You were cut ties from your family thinking that you were just busy and working hard to provide yourself and sending a lot of resources to them, your friends were now happy and financially stable but never really checked on you whether your doing good, the people you care and know were healthy, but they don't need you. Now you find your hands weighting chains, attached to the shackle on your wrist.
If there's one thing Jade found joy in, it's reaping a pure, untaited, soul.
"Come closer here," Jade gestures you to come over, you obey, broken. You see her lips, tainted with dark red lipstick, it comes closer, not on your face.
And just as Adam bit the apple, Jade bites your neck.
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"Ruan Mei, you're burnt out, please take a rest, I'll handle all of this research." You place a blanket on her shoulder.
"Would you like a cup of tea? A plate of cake? Embroider something? Please inform me, I'll... I'll handle it." You say with a smile.
Ruan Mei was tired, she had been researching Aeons for a couple of weeks, barely feeding herself. And usually, when Ruan Mei was tired, she wouldn't entrust anyone with her research... Except for you.
Ruan Mei's trusty little assistant, whom she's sure no matter what she asks you for, you would do that.
"...I want a cake." She answers, though delayed.
"Oh, alright!" You seem delighted to be doing a favor. You ran into the kitchen, preparing the food as Ruan Mei daydreams.
Why were you so insistent in helping her? Why do you do everything in your power to please her? You're strange, a strange person, Ruan Mei shouldn't care, she shouldn't care about your well being, she shouldn't care why your here to help her.
"I'm at your service, Ruan Mei."
"Do you need any help? I'll be sure to help you with what you need, Ruan Mei."
"Ruan Mei."
"Ruan Mei."
"Ruan Mei—"
"Ruan Mei, your desert is ready..." She snaps out of her daydream and glances at you, then the plate you're holding.
She blinks. "Apologies, I blanked out."
"It's alright."
You don't say her name, she's just a bit slightly dissapointed. But it was never shown in her face.
You hand over the dessert you made for her, she takes it. You studied Ruan Mei's personal favorite desserts, food, tea and how it's all tailored to Ruan Mei's tastes. Your cooking is always bound to be above her expectations.
She takes a bite of the cake and you see her lips curl up by two milimeters, which sounds a lot.
"...Would like me to share?" She must've noticed you staring at her, you shake your head at the offer. "I mean no harm, I simply want to share my food to you, is that alright?"
You obey her regardless...
She looks at her research paper, at the table, only to get a headache since none if it provided her help towards her goal. She opts focusing on you instead.
"Here, say ahh..." Using the spoon, she takes a good amount of portion of the cake and tried to feed you with it like you're a baby.
"Ruan Mei, that is a bit... Embarrassing..."
You said her name, she relishes.
"It's fine, you only deserve, after all the times you helped me, come on, you don't need to lift a finger." She pushes the spoon to your lips, so you awkwardly open your mouth and the cake enters.
"...Say my name." She orders, but your eating something... That's not a problem, right?
"Ruan Mei, wh—Mmph!?"
She intrudes, exploring your mouth with her tongue, feeling the food that you personally made for her, she takes a part of it, and exits your mouth.
She swallows the cake with your saliva coatted in it then licks her lips. "Mm. Delectable." She nods, as if she's rating the experience with 4.5 stars.
You were left there with a dumbfounded expression, confused, perhaps even grossed out.
It's fine, brainwashing isn't hard to conduct, you'll forget this ever happened in no time. Just as how you forgot you were trapped in her home against your will in the first place.
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a/n: mmm... manipulative women... 😋
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yuyusshinelight · 3 months ago
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Okay, I love Yunho being jealous. You love Yunho being jealous. And Yunho only gives us more and more reasons to love him acting jealous so here I am to add more fuel to the fire.
Just imagine how good the hot pitcher you have as boyfriend would fuck you after being jealous of Mingi and San for stealing your attention from him all night in a party at one of your friend's place to celebrate their team's victory.
It would start with a playful "Don't you think you're getting a bit more jealous than usual recently?" From you when Yunho took you from your hand to sit you down on his lap and to which he did not find that supposed funny thing that was making you laugh "I'm getting jealous a lot recently, you say?".
Something you had learned during all this time that you had been dating him was that when he had that expression in which his eyebrows were raised slightly, his gaze fixed on you and his lips slightly parted it only meant one thing: there's no way Yunho let you escape from him until he makes sure there's a mark with his name on every centimeter of your body.
"Well... Yes" You said with a shy shrug, starting to get more and more horny as the aura surrounding your boyfriend becomes more intimidating "Oh, but it's you that keeps triggering my jealousy, princess" One of his mischievous hands began to climb dangerously slowly up your thigh from its position on your knee "Looking at other players," going down slowly "walking hand in hand with Wooyoung," only to go up again with the nerve of get under your skirt shamelessly "and now giving all your attention to San and Mingi".
"Y-Yunho" You tried to take his hand out of your skirt, knowing pretty well that if he pushed this a bit further you would end up giving your friends a show not suitable for minors "Not here" But just a slow deliberate look up and down your body from him was enough to make you stop fighting the inevitable advance of his hand beneath the soft fabric of your clothes.
Your heart beat faster and faster as his mischievous fingers made their way through the fabric until Yunho successfully reached your underwear, sliding two fingers under the silky fabric of those lace panties that you had deliberately chosen for tonight and that he could distinguish with just the touch but, as soon as you closed your eyes and suppressed a moan for that brief touch on your already wet folds, your boyfriend lifted you from his lap.
"Guys, we're leaving! Have fun!" He said without taking his eyes off you, taking your small hand in his and guiding you out of the house to the car where he almost fucked you right there, against the passenger door.
Thank heavens that he had parked in front of the house because if it had been in a place with less light and more discreet you could see yourself pressed against the cold glass of the door without panties and clinging to any part of the car while Yunho rammed you from behind.
But don't think you'd be safe on the way to his apartment. No. His hand would be under your skirt all the time, playing between your sensitive folds in that torturous game with fleeting touches deliberately designed by his twisted mind only to excite you more and more but without being enough to make you reach that much-needed relief for which you were begging for between sobs.
That triumphant smile on his face was a clear indicator of how satisfied your boyfriend was to know that control was completely his. Yunho always enjoyed how little it cost him to have you at his mercy.
And not even knowing what would come the moment the apartment door closed you were prepared at all for that fierceness with which Yunho shamelessly assaulted your body as soon as you crossed the portal of his house. His hands roaming freely over every exposed centimeter of your skin, his lips demanding their possession over yours, his tongue making its place in your mouth, challenging your lung capacity until you needed to break away his animalistic kiss and take that exaggerated gulp of air as he continued with his insistent need to leave as much of his trace on you as possible.
You hadn't even taken two steps, you were still with your jackets and everything; and as much as you tried to remove the excess of clothes you simply couldn't take anything off due the position in which he had you against the wall, not stopping his way from your now heavily marked neck to your chest for nothing in the world.
His hands on your ass, this time, under the fabric of your now ruined panties, kneading the flesh between his hands as he pleased as he raised you to a more comfortable height for him, his erection still confined in his tight jeans torturing your sensitive clit with each shameless touch. His moves were getting wilder with every passing second and you could only let him do as he pleased while an endless string of moans cascaded from your lips.
"Let's remind you who you belong to".
There was no longer a trace of that tender and sweet boyfriend you had in the starved predator who was devouring you in that vulgar way, devoid of any kindness or decorum. He was so blinded by his jealousy that he could only think of one thing: demanding your complete possession.
You were going to be remembering him with every little step you took for a whole week.
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theemporium · 4 months ago
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Can I request a smut Berry daiquiri with eddie munson and steve harrington.
With the prompt: “i’m going to fuck every last thought out of this pretty little head.”
Thank you!!😍😘
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
6. “I am going to fuck every last thought out of this pretty little head.” 
.
In your defence, you didn’t think a bit of harmless flirting would piss them off this much.
You hadn’t even flirted back, if you were being completely honest. The man was just a shameless customer who seemed more interested in chatting you up rather than picking up whatever movie he had entered Family Video for. It was sloppy work, something that would hardly woo you. 
If anything, you thought it was funny.
But the boys didn’t seem to hold the same sentiment. 
Steve stood behind the counter, the clock ticking closer to the end of his shift and his patience ticking closer to being nonexistent as he watched the customer shamelessly check you out when you turned around to grab a movie for him. Eddie was no better, sitting on the counter and watching the whole interaction with his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened into a glare.
The man had eventually realised he wasn’t getting lucky, grabbing whatever movie he had shown up for and bringing it to the counter. He was lucky that Steve had enough self-restraint to not smack him over the head with it. Or reach over the counter to do something stupid. Like try to fight him.
But their bad mood was clear as the three of you piled into Eddie’s van, you stuck between both boys as the three of you silently drove to Steve’s house. Honestly, you assumed they were upset. And you did feel bad, your apology ready and on the tip of your tongue as the three of you climbed out and headed into the house. 
You hadn’t expected them to be jealous. 
And you hadn’t expected them to be absolutely relentless in reminding you just who you belong to.
“C’mon, pretty girl,” Eddie mused, something dark and promising in his voice as he ran his fingers through your hair, pushing your hair away from your face as you gasped and choked with every thrust. “Tell us what he said. Tell us what made you giggle and bat your eyelashes like a lil’ attention whore.”
“I–” You whined as you nuzzled your face into his hand, the air leaving your lungs with Steve’s relentless pace behind you. You could barely remember your name at the moment, let alone whatever the fuck the man had said to you in the store. “Fuck.”
“Hm, that doesn’t seem right, does it, Steve?” Eddie commented with a mocking pout, his words patronising and mean and, fuck, if it didn’t make you squeeze around Steve’s dick deep inside you. “Pretty sure he said more than that.” 
You whined, your head dropping to Eddie’s thigh as you nosed the bulge in his boxers. 
Eddie only grinned in delight at the sight of you already so needy and fucked out for them. 
“Oh, look at her,” Steve groaned as he crowded over you, his cock deep inside you and his body covering yours as he lightly squeezed your cheeks to turn your head towards him. “I am going to fuck every last thought out of this pretty little head. Maybe then you’ll have enough room to beg for Eddie’s cock, hm?” 
You could only whimper in response, already halfway there and so ready for both their cocks.
.
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underskz · 19 days ago
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➪ LET'S SEE WHO HURTS THE OTHER MORE
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➪ seo changbin x cisfem!reader ✩ w.c 3.2k (➪ cheater!choi yeonjun x same reader) — NSFW ✩ 18+ minors dni —
✰ NON-IDOL AU
pov: sick of your boyfriend's lies and infidelity, you've finally decided on your parting gift to both him and yourself...in the form of one of his best friends.
note: uhh i rlly can't explain myself on this one,, i've been listening to too many sad songs and my brain said write a cheating revenge plot fic and write it now >:) so here i am uhhh, going for it... sorry yeonjun ! (i'm not rlly that sorry lmao) also has anyone else noticed that i keep writing for 99s idols,,, even tho they’re not my biases… anywayz the title is from war by keshi lol
warnings: CHEATING like all around everyone's a cheater (except changbin but he's willingly sleeping w his bestie's gf so...), and isn't reader entitled to this 100% valid crash out ?? (i'm kidding...or am i???), toxic relationship, toxic behavior, unsafe sex (no condoms), spit (and a dream) as lube, bad language, slight manipulation from reader but changbin lets it happen lmao (might be a lil into it even), yeonjun is the worst in this….but it’s for the plot!!! i swear !!!!, open/ambiguous ending, excessive use of ellipses bc im dramatic :)
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“I’m sorry.”
At least Changbin has the decency to look ashamed, the guilt of covering up for his friend’s transgressions clearly having eaten away at him. He keeps his head low, intent on pretending one of the cracks on the kitchen tiles requires all his attention. 
For a moment you consider throwing him out, screaming at him to never come back and to tell Yeonjun to fuck himself into the next century. 
There’s a part of you that wants to blame Changbin, because if he was gonna turn around and confess Yeonjun’s infidelity anyway, why didn’t he stop him? 
Instead you inhale slowly, exhaling as evenly as you possibly can and swallow down the venom building on the tip of your tongue.
“It’s okay, Bin.” And his head finally snaps up, shocked by your lack of surprise and borderline disinterest. Again you swallow back any scathing comments, a certain numbness swirls through your chest as a dull throbbing in the back of your skull threatens a headache.
“W-What?” He dares to meet your eyes for a second before pinning his gaze somewhere over your shoulder.
“I know, I mean I’ve known. And I know it wasn’t a one time thing.” You sigh, and a part of you wishes that your boyfriend hadn’t trapped his friends in his lies as well. 
“You knew Yeonjun was…” He clears his throat harshly.
“Cheating? Yeah, and I guess he hasn't really considered stopping, or at least being subtle about it. And after all those fights and promises to change..I don’t even know what I see in him.” It’s the truth, still unsure why you’ve bothered plodding along in this relationship after catching Yeonjun stepping out on you almost four months ago. 
You had found him in the alleyway of a club after he drunkenly called begging for you to come pick him up, only to see him wrapped up in a disgusting lip lock with some other woman with his hands shamelessly wandering. 
He hadn’t even apologized, just mumbled over and over again about how he was so drunk, how he thought it was you. At the time you chose to believe it, at the time you still loved him.
But now it’s different, now you’re left wondering how much more you can take, or why you can’t just end it.
Maybe it’s a fear of loneliness, or the pains of having to untangle your life from his after spending almost four years tying them together. Whatever it is, the strings have finally begun to fray, and the last remnants of that naive thought of him changing disappeared the moment Changbin stepped foot into your apartment with that kicked puppy look to him.
And now here you are, staring at your boyfriend’s proclaimed “ride or die”, in all honesty if you were to expect any of Yeonjun’s friends to fess up to the man’s wrongs for him, Changbin wouldn’t have been your first guess. He might be principled and righteous to a fault, but this is a man who would help Yeonjun hide a body no questions asked; morals be damned. 
You wonder what the tipping point was, wonder what Yeonjun could’ve done this time around that made Changbin force himself to make that choice. 
“How long?” You purse your lips, because even then you had doubted it was the first time, Yeonjun’s lies losing their efficacy somewhere between the third and fourth time you caught him fabricating his whereabouts— and who he was with.
“Um, well.” His eyes begin darting around once more. 
“The least you can do is be honest with me…he hasn’t been.” You cross your arms in a poor attempt of trying to brace yourself for whatever Changbin will say. Though your feelings for Yeonjun are practically nonexistent at this point, it wouldn’t make finding out more about his betrayal hurt any less.
“I think the first time was, ah well, it was…” You watch as he clenches and unclenches his fist, clearly conflicted, the morally righteous side barely able to push past his fierce loyalty to his friend. 
“Changbin, please.” You sigh, teeth digging into your bottom lip while making your eyes wide just so they’ll begin to water. If Changbin needs you to look like the heartbroken girlfriend to find his voice then so be it.
“Last year, when you were back visiting family…Wooyoung had this party and…”
His words seem to fade away, whisking through one ear and out the other. A year, an entire year of him lying to your face. You feel sick, used up and disgusted at the way you’ve been played like a damn fiddle. Like you’ve meant nothing to him and that all those years you spent in love with him— completely wasted.
Your knees start to buckle, a weak and nauseating feeling twisting in your stomach and Changbin in all his gentlemanly glory quickly catches you, dragging you into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I should’ve said something earlier.” His voice cracks, as if he’s the one who’s so despicably wronged you, and you could laugh. It shouldn't be Changbin here with his arms around you, apologizing like his life depends on it. "I-Is there anything I can do?"
It's said so softly you almost don't catch it, and the thought that bursts into your head is so sudden —and rather devious— that it almost doesn't feel like yours. You decide to blame Yeonjun for whatever happens next.
Because there’s a lot that Changbin can do.
"Just...keep holding me." The words come out shakier than you expected, thankful for how tightly he’s holding you, keeping you from falling apart completely. You try to breath slowly, deep inhales and exhales that fill your senses with Changbin’s cologne, the warmth radiating off of him soothing your nerves.
"Yeah, uh, okay...yeah I can do that." He inhales sharply. "Do you wanna sit?"
"Sure." The affirmation coming out as a defeated sigh. And carefully, as if he knows you'll shatter at any moment— he guides you to the couch, letting you sit before settling beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulders.
You let your head fall back, resting upon a firm bicep as you try to make sense of the last few minutes. You consider your options, debating on just how far you’re willing to go in the name of revenge. 
It's not fair to drag Changbin further into this, not when Yeonjun has already done a fine job of testing his friend's moral compass— but at the same time the man has been complicit in these lies for a year, looking you in the eyes and laughing with you as if there was nothing amiss. Maybe Yeonjun wasn't the only one who needed to suffer consequences.
But if anything, in some twisted way, this could be a reward for Changbin’s honesty, a thank you and even a favor done for you as a proper apology.
So you inch closer, moving until you're practically seated in Changbin's lap while you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into the crook of his neck, stilling as he stiffens in your hold. 
For a moment you wonder if you moved too fast. But not even a second later he relaxes, tightening the arm that's already around your shoulders and bringing up his other to run his hand comfortingly up and down your back. 
You let yourself melt into him, a tight coil in your chest starting to unravel. It's concerning how safe you feel, seated in the lap of your cheating boyfriend's best friend, maybe your sense of right and wrong and love and affection has been all screwed up courtesy of one Choi Yeonjun.
Yet you’re only allowed to revel in this moment for what feels like only a few minutes, too distracted by the warmth to even think of your next move, of how far you'll go.
Changbin starts to shift under you, his hands retracting and you can't help the needy whine that sounds in your throat. You could care less if it sounds desperate, you're vulnerable after all.
"Bin please, you said you'd hold me."
"I should go." His voice is hoarse, and you pull back just enough to see his eyes darting back between you and the door. "Didn't you say Yeonjun was coming by later?"
"I said he might." And Yeonjun said he would, but you doubted it, these days his promises fell through more often than not. "Who knows anymore, he's probably fucking some other bitch or looking for one." 
He frowns at that, and you're unsure if it's your harshness or disappointment over the fact you're most likely right.
"It's just that, I don't think...we should…I should go." He makes a weak attempt to push you off of him, stopping the moment you grab his wrists.
"But I don't want you to." Immediately releasing your hold on him, his hands hover, unsure of whether or not to drop them or to continue holding you.
"Yeonjun is, he's still my friend..." Changbin says carefully.
"And I'm not?" It's not like the two of you met because of Yeonjun, in fact you met Yeonjun through Changbin and a few other mutual friends back during university. But maybe that's what was making him so unsure, the social repercussions. The risk of everything falling apart as if Yeonjun didn’t create this. "I mean...I guess if you really wanna go Bin, I won't...force you to stay."
And slowly you let your eyes crawl up, peering through your lashes as you worry your bottom lip with your teeth before soothing it with your tongue. With a sharp inhale he follows the movement with his eyes, one of his hands thoughtlessly landing on your thigh. 
"We shouldn't." His fingers tighten for half a second, eyes darkening by a fraction. 
"Shouldn't what? We're not doing anything?" You lean in closer, and closer, until your lips are a measly inch away from each other. "Unless you think we should be?" 
He swears under his breath, your name following closely before he seals his lips against yours. And maybe a touch too desperately you scramble to rearrange yourself in his lap, moving until you're straddling his thick thighs and gripping onto his muscled shoulders.
"This is, it’s wrong?" There’s a strain in his words; but it’s barely a question, and one posed more for himself than you.
"You're comforting me, you're being a good friend and comforting me." You drag your lips across his jaw, trying not to grin as he tightly grips at your hips. "I'm hurting, make me feel better?"
"Are you sure?" You meet his gaze, the intention of not wanting to take advantage of your supposed vulnerable state clear in his eyes, because Changbin is (to some degree) a decent man.
"I need you." You keep your voice low, running your hands down his chest before dragging one up to run your fingers through his hair. "Please?"
You tilt your head, watching as he swallows down whatever reservations he has. He looks over you carefully, leaving you to try to not squirm under an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes.
"Fuck, okay yeah I've got you." His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, a gravelly tone overtaking his words. “I’ll make you feel better, the best.” 
And maybe he’s thought about it before, whether it was before you and Yeonjun started your (now regrettable) relationship, or if this was something he had been holding close, a secret that would’ve torn him and Yeonjun’s friendship apart– maybe it’s why he barely put up a fight. 
His lips are back on yours, still tentative and a little stiff but you didn’t mind, if anything your ministrations are a mirror image. Unlike some people, you’ve been loyal in your relationship and the nerves of kissing someone new after all this time was beginning to ricochet through your body, your heartbeat turning into a frantic staccato.
“Bin.” You rasp, not sure what you’re trying to say or maybe ask.
“I told you, I’ve got you.” He tugs off his hoodie then shirt before pulling off yours, goosebumps chasing after where his hands trail along your exposed skin. He manages to make quick work of your clothes, stopping you from helping in any way and allowing you to admire the way his muscles jump and move as he undresses you.
He keeps you in his lap, now stripped bare while he sits in his gray sweats with a less than conspicuous tent forming in them. You feel your mouth dry with anticipation, with nerves.
“Kiss me.” And he obeys, licking into your mouth eagerly, whatever hesitation held before long gone. It’s easy falling into Changbin’s ministrations, soothing in a way you can’t explain, and most of all, thrilling to be so craved. 
You press yourself against him, unable to stifle the shiver at the sensation of heated skin against heated skin, delighting in the way he kneads his calloused fingers up your thighs. Your mind races with anticipation, trying not to let the fact it’s been weeks, maybe closer to months since you’ve gotten any action.
Before you can even register it, he’s pushing you away, maneuvering you until your back is against his chest and your legs are forced to fall apart as they land on either side of his.
“Better this way.” He grunts, a hand coming up to cup at your breast while the other drags up your inner thigh. 
“Changbin.” You snake a hand back until you're gripping the back of his head, dragging him forward enough to catch his bottom lip with your teeth. “Hurry.”
Mercifully he wastes no time, bringing thick fingers up to your mouth and obediently your lips fall open. Pinning your gaze to his you make a show of flattening your tongue against his digits and dragging the muscle upwards oh so slowly. 
“Fucking, you-”
He interrupts himself, lips diving forward to meet yours, his tongue shoving into your mouth with reckless abandon. He swallows down each and every little moan and whine he draws out of you.
But with far more finesse his fingers press against your entrance, deftly circling and coaxing. At long last, he presses a single digit inside of you, slowly yet insistent; he’s surprisingly attentive, waiting for and listening to each demand of your body as he explores you so languidly.
“Faster, faster.” You’re not above begging, not here and definitely not now, bucking your hips to try and make him hear your pleas.
His other arm snakes around your waist, tightening just enough to keep you flush against him and barely able to move. 
“Let me take care of you.” He chases the words with a peck to your cheek and It’s startlingly nice, the words and affection almost unfamiliar. Maybe your relationship has long since fizzled out, unable to remember the last time someone had been this gentle and mindful during sex.
If you didn’t know better you’d think Changbin might be in love with you.
The thought melts away the moment he pushes two of his fingers into you, gasping at the sudden stretch but thankful for him picking up the pace.
You feel like putty in his hands, enjoying the tension in your shoulders being replaced by that telltale tension deep in your belly. Each drag of his fingers has you melting further into him, letting yourself be consumed as you sigh his name. 
Annoyingly he retracts his fingers, placating the whine in your throat with a quick kiss to your pulsepoint. He helps you shift in his lap, until you’re facing each other once more and you’re left trying not to melt under his fiery gaze.
Your eyes flutter down his chest, until you’re looking directly at the now blatant tent in his sweats. You bite back a groan.
“Oh.” You move to straddle him properly, adjusting so there’s just enough room between your bodies that you can hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and with a little assistance you manage to free his cock from the cotton confines.
You hook your nails into the meat of his shoulder, grinning when he winces as your other hand comes down to press his cock against your dripping cunt. 
“Shit, hold on, condom?” He looks a little sad to ask, likely annoyed by the extra step.
“No, m’clean I got tested…haven’t even, oh!” He nips at your throat. “…Haven’t let him touch me, you?”
“I’m good.” And you trust him, despite it all you don’t mind trusting Changbin. Besides, there’s plenty of things you’re regretting right now, what’s another for down the road? Though you highly doubt you’ll regret anything and everything Changbin could do to you.
“C’mon then pretty, ride me.” He brings his hands under the backs of your thighs, offering support but making no move to help you any further.
You tease your hole against the head of his cock, tongue caught between your teeth as you slowly begin to sink down. A stifling heat starts to curl through you, searing through your limbs and cutting across your face and building a sweat across your brow.
“Fuck! You’re so fuckin’ big, ah!” And maybe while Yeonjun beats Changbin out in length, he can’t begin to compare in girth.
The moment you’re fully seated on his cock you take a second to come to terms with the fact you're being split in two, the thickness unprecedented and dizzying and it takes every fiber of your being to not cum immediately. You squeeze your eyes shut, the hand settled on his shoulder tightening until your knuckles go white. 
Changbin takes this as an invitation to pepper kisses along your chest, letting his teeth graze along your shoulder and tongue dance across your throat. You find yourself relaxing under his attention, embarrassingly soothed in a few measly seconds by his lips against your skin. 
“Sexy.” He has the audacity to wink at you, and a weak chuckle escapes you as you wiggle your hips just enough to force a choked moan out of the both of you.
But it’s enough to have you brace yourself, not wanting to waste anymore time, hands coming down to grip at his solid forearms to bring yourself up an inch and sink back down. It sends a shock up your spine and you repeat the motion, again and again. 
You gather your energy, testing your leg strength today and properly starting to bounce on his cock, letting wanton moans and desperate whines fall freely from your lips.
“S’good, so damn good for me.” He grinds out. “You like fucking me more? Huh?”
You're hypnotized by the look in his eyes, always fascinated by the way that Changbin has always been candid with his emotions, how easy he can be to read when he puts down his shields. And now you have a front row view to a smoldering lust burning bright in those brown eyes, leaving you to wonder if it’s always been there. 
“Yes, yes, yes.” You tug at his arms, silently begging for more, until his hands move to grip at your waist. “It’s better, better with y-you, Bin.”
“He’s so damn stupid, you’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby.” Ruthlessly he quickens the pace, forcing you towards the edge. Your vision starts to go a little fuzzy, that unmistakable tightness coiling in your belly becoming almost unbearable. 
“O-Oh fuck, Changbin!” Pleasure tears through you, a few borderline painful steps past mindblowing and you wonder if you passed out for a second. 
Faintly you hear the telltale click of the front door opening. 
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kisseobie · 9 months ago
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Hello🫣🫣 may I request p1harmony reaction to you wearing something short/revealing when going out clubbing? Thank youuu☺️☺️
p1harmony reacting to you wearing revealing clothes
pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader
warnings: suggestive
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tags: established relationships, clingy piwon, the boys are.. boys, clubbing, drinking (aged up for seobsoul), non idol au
a/n: it’s funny bc i was JUST reading an exact post like this a few minutes ago so anon if u were the same person who sent @ntoniac a request for the same thing i hope i can do it justice bc hers had me giggling and kicking my feet .. ANYWAYS! once again i apologize for slow updates i unfortunately am a student amidst a depressive episode soooooo it takes me a bit longer to write :( i hope u all can understand
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𖧷 keeho
is honestly so cheesed. the type to insist to take pictures of you on his phone before you two actually make your way out, already mentally planning out which photo he’s gonna use in his next photo dump. is always super grabby with his hands, but its somehow amplified tonight. constantly has his arm lazily perched on your shoulder, and he often whispers cute little compliments into your ear every now and then. doesn’t really mind when people approach you to talk to you, doesn’t even necessarily care when said people make quick glances at your cleavage and the short length of your skirt. you two have an immense level of trust in your relationship, so he’s not one to feel insecure when people admire his girl. i can see kyo as the type to drag you onto the dance floor too, just so he can spin you around and feel your ass rub against the frontside of his jeans. eventually does end up posting those photos he took of you earlier on instagram, but not without captioning it something like “that’s all me”
𖧷 theo
doesn’t care about how short and tight your mini dress is, just wants it off of you by the end of the night. when you first skipped into the living room, beaming as you showed off your outfit of choice to him, theo had to hold himself back from kissing you silly. just like keeho, the simple concept of his girlfriend wearing a revealing outfit doesn’t make him super possessive, but he does make himself known to onlookers as your boyfriend in other ways, whether that be holding your drink and purse for you without you even asking him to, or sneaking up behind you to pepper kisses along your neck when your in the middle of conversation with someone. he makes his presence known but also wants to ensure that you have a carefree, enjoyable night without feeling like you have to tend to your boyfriend the entire time. taeyang definitely does admire your cleavage when he gets the chance too though, shamelessly stares at your chest and just giggles in reply when you scold him for doing so… loves to flirt with you even more than he usually does tbh
𖧷 jiung
is the overly possessive boyfriend that will whine and beg you to change. in reality, he doesn’t actually expect you to change your outfit, but lets you know (whilst pouting) that although you look hot and he wants to devour you, he also is very nervous about the unwanted attention you might get. it’s not a bad thing really! jiung just wants to be the only man that gets to see you in such a tiny top. although he might complain at first, you don’t miss the obvious blush on his face, silently signaling to you that he secretly loves when you dress this way. he’s not a very touchy person, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t interlock your fingers the entire night, even giving your hand gentle squeezes when you give someone else a little too much attention for his liking. glares at anyone who might whistle at you or even just look in your general vicinity for a bit too long. quickly shuts down offers himself from other guys that have the balls to ask you to dance. yeah, your not being let out of his sight looking that good. he’s just obsessed with you and wants you all to himself, sorry!
𖧷 intak
actually is the one who helps you pick out your outfit! tak himself wants to spend the night out showing off his beautiful girlfriend so he purposely convinces you to wear the shortest denim skirt you own, paired with an equally revealing spaghetti strap crop top. comes up behind you when your adjusting your outfit in the mirror to wrap his arms around your waist and perch his chin on your right shoulder, shooting down any concerns you might have about your outfit being kind of “whorish” (your words, not his!). is your personal hype man. you look good and he’s gonna make you feel good. loves to watch you on the dance floor from a nearby barstool, having the time of your life with your friends. after you’ve tired yourself out, you walk towards him to join him at the bar and he doesn’t miss the opportunity to eye your entire body from top to bottom and let out an obnoxious whistle. he’s sooooo sweet frat boy coded… definitely asks if he can take a body shot off of you whilst winking and you just roll your eyes in response. when he ends up drunk out of his mind and you have to drag him inside your shared cab, he’s mumbling the sweetest praises to you before he falls asleep against your shoulder
𖧷 soul
doesn’t really have much to say, but his body language speaks for itself. like most of piwon, his possessiveness is at a minimum, and like intak, he loves when you feel confident enough to dress this way. maybe it’s the introvert in him, but he lives vicariously through your bold outfit choices. loves to give you kisses on your exposed collarbone as he smoothens out a crease on your silk skirt. he also loves the way your stomach peeks out of your cropped top, and he holds onto your waist when kissing you to circle his thumbs on the area. stares at you lovingly the entire night, and doesn’t falter when your eyes meet every now and then. he comes up to you towards the end of the night and whispers into your ear about how he thinks you look so pretty and that he loves this outfit. you definitely end up seeing a more vocal side of him when the alcohol kicks in, and you swoon at how lovey dovey his words are. he just wants you to feel pretty and confident and he ends up succeeding in proving that to you! makes really bad attempts at flirting which ends up in the pair of you laughing your asses off. overall shota makes you feel beautiful and you make mental notes to bring him out wearing revealing clothes more often
𖧷 jongseob
djsjdkajdjsj i have to write my boyfriend as clingy as possible. he’s definitely the type of boyfriend to sit on the end of your bed, aimlessly scrolling on his phone and taking little peeks at you every now and then while you’re doing your makeup on your vanity. when you finish your makeup and go to your closet to change into the tiny little dress you’ve chosen for the evening, you’re honestly a bit nervous as to how your boyfriend will react to how bodycon and short the attire is, but you look and feel hot and that encourages you to step out in front of him. he notices your presence right away and looks up at your face, then chest, then thighs, and then turns off and tucks his phone into his back pocket and grabs at you to sit on his lap. gives you the sweetest kiss imaginable and pulls away to look at you with disbelief. asks you something along the lines of “how did i get so lucky?” and his hands run all over the material of your dress. his boldness is new but very welcome and he spends a good while complimenting you, asking you where you bought this dress, and playing with your hair with a smug grin on his face. gets soooo excited to take you out and wastes no time in calling an uber so he can show you off to the world. feels like he’s on cloud 9!
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taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @theyluvsosa @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror
© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!
𖧷 ₊ ° .
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hitomisuzuya · 16 hours ago
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Omg omg requests are open! I love your writing so so much, it always makes me happy reading your fics 🔥
I would like to request some more fatui!scara but maybe with him using his electro powers to make reader feel good.. if you know what I mean heh. Bonus points if there’s some bondage or some chocking 👀
fatui!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. delusion play. fingering. degradation. squirting. bondage. choking. dom!scara
bonus points i am more than happy to score😳
"know your place, and keep your legs spread," scaramouche commanded in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine, and straight to your clit. he smirked seeing you do as you were told, spreading them a little wider.
he didn't think his cock could throb any harder seeing your display of submission, your cheeks flushed with adoration for him. with your wrists bound together and tied above your head to the headboard, your creamy cunt on display to him, you are working of delicate art for him to break.
the utter control you surrender to him, relying on him for every modicum of pleasure made him dizzy with love. it was a jarring feeling for him.
his fingertips brushed featherlight along your jaw. your cheek automatically turned to nuzzle into his palm. he sighed shakily seeing your display of submissive affection, moving his hand down down to your chest.
you let out a soft moan feeling the subtle hum of electro on your nipple as he teased it with his elegant fingers. he pinched your nipple, stimulating it to harden quickly between the pads of his fingers. his cock leaked precum hearing your moans rise in octave, your pussy starting to clench around nothing.
"it's amusing to hear how good it makes you feel when i toy with you," he turned his attention to your neglected nipple, which was already hardening in response to him using his electro.
scaramouche knows your body so well. he knows exactly how to use his electro to make you writhe and twitch in pleasure. make you beg in a way that would make him cum untouched.
the hum increased as he stroked your other nipple to harden, slowly stimulating it until you let out a soft whine. he groans seeing the look in your eyes, the desperation for him to work your pussy over pooling deep in them.
such submission, he felt should be rewarded. your breath hitched in your throat with anticipation as he moved his hand down between your legs. your hips jerked up to grind on his fingers as they dipped between your now drooling folds.
he concentrated electro into the tips of his fingers, tracing slow stripes up and down your pussy, licking his lips at how fast you soaked his fingers. "such needy obedience," he marvels, pressing slow circles on your throbbing clit, "what a slut."
your lewd moan as pushed his finger inside of you sounded so fucking divine to him. electro hummed along your sensitive walls, zapping into your sweet spot. your walls clenched tighter than they had when he was teasing your nipples.
he launched a slow assault on your pussy, increasing and decreasing the amplification of his electro as he flicked and curled his finger into your sweet spot. your body was already twitching from the aching pleasure of your orgasm tightening in your core. "a second finger," you moan, shamelessly rubbing your clit on his fingers.
"a second finger what, slut," he concentrated electro into the pads of his fingers as he tapped your clit. your legs shook as your back aches off the bed.
"please," you whimper, your eyes watering in desperation as your clit throbbed harder.
"good girl," scaramouche praises, rewarding you by stretching you open with two fingers. electro zapped against your sensitive walls before he hooked them generously into your sweet spot. you let out a gasp of pleasure, twitching as your orgasm coiled tighter.
he relentlessly teased your sweet spot with different levels of electro. your fingernails dug into the palms of your bound hands as pleasure jolted through you. he relishes in the embarrassed flush dusting your cheeks. he chuckled.
"i see you just now heard yourself, and what a slut you sound like," he increased the electro humming on his fingers, bullying your sweet spot, "listen to your pussy sucking my fingers in," he laughed shakily as his cock pulsed harder. "you can't get enough of me."
"a third finger, please. please, scara, please," you plead. you could taste your orgasm it was so close, the building intensity nearly overwhelming you. your walls clutched tighter still hearing his degradation.
your sopping pussy sucked a third finger inside of you. your back arches off the bed, a moan of bliss that sounded like you'd just gotten something you'd deprived of for so long tore from your throat. "that's right, beg like the pretty slut you are," he increased his electro and pace of his fingers.
his hand suddenly snapped to your throat, electro zapping across your windpipe for a moment to remind you of your place. the embarrassed blush on your cheeks darkens with further adoration for him. he smirked as his fingers gradually tightened around your throat.
pleasure burst through you in overwhelming waves as you tilted your head back a little for him to squeeze more. giving him such control, trusting him so completely made him dizzier with love.
you struggle to moan for him as he continued to bully your sweet spot with his electro. you writhed as the knot of your orgasm snapped apart suddenly. scaramouche's fingers tightened on your throat at just the right moment, increasing the intensity of your orgasm as you squirted on his fingers.
"that's it, just take it like a good girl," scaramouche groaned with approval, taking his hand off your throat to concentrate electro on your swollen clit.
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talesofadragon · 1 year ago
Text
𝟓𝟎 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧
Summary: In a twist of fate, the seemingly heartless and enigmatic Draco Malfoy found himself falling deeply in love. His affection for Y/N knew no bounds, but he couldn't resist the temptation to test her patience. However, when he succumbs to the advances of a particular Slytherin girl, he soon realizes that he may have gotten more than he bargained for.
Warnings: Sexual themes. Minors DNI.
Pairing: Draco x Reader
Genre: Fluff | Smut  
Word count: 2.1K
All Masterlists | Draco Malfoy Masterlist
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𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰. Unapologetically and effortlessly, those people embrace the lackluster, emanating an aura that brings the moons and the stars of the universe to their knees. 
Draco Malfoy fell into that category. 
In the middle of the raging lights and the tumultuous fray, he sat back in the dark corner of the Slytherin Common Room, leisurely sipping a glass of Firewhiskey. At first glance, he was imposing. Veiny fingers, undoubtedly dexterous in their deathly ministrations. A chiseled jaw that commanded obedience from every man. And eyes that, although we’re mesmerizing pools of silver, held a hint of acidic intensity with every gaze.
Draco Malfoy was thought to be darkness in human form. Perhaps several individuals would concur, whether out of fascination or apprehension. But that was because none of them saw him through my eyes. 
In his nights, I saw the moon. In his shades of obsidian, I found depths unknown. In his prowess, I sought the nightjar, whose darkened plumage painted my soul with a mesmerizing array of vibrant hues.
And I despised, abhorred, anyone who dared to try and get close enough to bask in his glow.
“Y/N, sometimes I regret ever introducing you to Draco,” Clarissa remarked. I shot her an unimpressed glance. She continued dancing without missing a beat, leaving me the only one standing idle in the middle of a crowded room. “You have that devilish look in your eyes.” 
“Well, the she-devil has her eyes, and hands, all over him.” 
Clarissa's lips twitched, forming an amused grin. Her gaze shifted towards the girl with dark hair and an extremely form-fitting dress, which left little to the imagination, who shamelessly ran her hand along my boyfriend's arm.
“He’s not even looking at her.” 
“He’s letting her touch him!” 
“He’s not.” She rolled her eyes, brushing off the comment. One of her hands took mine, urging me to dance to the upbeat tone of the music that engulfed us. “He’s looking at you and is most likely enjoying getting under your skin.” 
“He’s being a dick,” I groaned in frustration. Clarissa was giving me her “well duh” expression. 
“He’s Draco. If you ask about him, you’ll have a porn site worth of dick picks and stories that perfectly describe your aggravating boyfriend.” 
I arched an eyebrow, subconsciously convincing myself that it was a common behavior and not something unique to Draco. “Remind me again what his relationship to your boyfriend is. Oh, that’s right, he’s his brother.” 
“Atlas is a sweetheart! Sometimes, I sincerely think he was adopted,” she argued. 
“Clearly not,” I countered. I nudged my head toward the table, catching sight of the girl in the navy dress leaning her body closer to my boyfriend’s chest. “If he’s licking his lips at the sight of that girl’s cleavage.” 
Clarissa whipped her head at the speed of light. I was surprised her neck didn’t snap. Her rage immediately molded into distaste when she noticed that Atlas wasn’t licking his lips as I said, but he was straining his neck, attempting to look away from the boob job that was begging for attention. 
“She’s a bitch.” 
“As am I,” I replied swiftly. Clarissa frowned, glancing back at me. By that time, the sound of my heels clicking against the marble floor had already begun, even though the music drowned out their noise.
Draco seemed impervious to the blaring musical notes as his silver eyes locked onto mine, capturing my movement. He had the audacity to smirk against the rim of his glass, going as far as to open the palm of his hand, indulging in the girl’s ministrations. 
Atlas, seated on the same couch as his brother but a few feet away, wore a bemused expression. He bit his lip, gaze wandering between me and Clarissa, who was trailing after me. 
As I crossed the two steps that separated me from my boyfriend, the harsh clicking of my heels echoed through the room. The blush on my cheeks seemed to mirror the hue of my dress, drawing attention toward me. Perfect, I inwardly mused, locking eyes with Draco. He observed my every move with his now grey irises, resembling a tempestuous landscape anticipating the thunder to unleash its chaos.
Confident and without a hint of hesitation, I made my way to his table, disregarding the curious onlookers, the girl with longing eyes, and even our friends. Choosing to ignore them all, I straddled his lap, allowing our lips to collide.
He must have expected my harshness or maybe my fire, but it was clear that he hadn’t anticipated my dominance. Draco Malfoy faltered, proved by the sound of the glass shattering on the floor and the shrieks of the nameless woman beside us. 
One of his hands fisted the fabric of my dress, clinging to the small of my back, while the other slithered into my hair. My hands, on the other hand, assaulted his neck. One wrapped itself around it while the other trekked down his collarbone, swiftly uncaging the second button of his shirt. 
As expected, Draco tried to dominate the kiss, attempting to force my tongue into submission. And while on a regular day, when my body was electrified by the dominance of his touch and my consciousness succumbed to the pressure of his pleasuring body, I would have relented. Today was anything but a regular one. 
I pushed past the overwhelming ecstasy that clouded my racing thoughts, attempting to transform them into incoherent murmurs, and assaulted Draco’s tongue. His hands began to trail my body, the one in my hair errantly moving towards my own neck. 
Immediately, I tightened my hold around his neck, restricting him further from the air we both so desperately craved. He gasped, hands falling to my waist and clutching me tighter. I teased him, bringing my lips close to his, allowing him to steal the breath coming out of my own mouth and greedily take it for himself. 
It lasted no more than two seconds because I knew this was a punishment and not a reward. I dove in again. Tongue-first, exploring the walls and ceiling of his mouth. Draco couldn’t keep his own tongue at bay, and I didn’t want him to. Before he could coax me into accepting his sensual offer, I let go of his lower lip and sucked on his tongue. 
Draco moaned. A sound that was both undiluted and unrestrained; I was sure he had forgotten where he was. His hips jolted, searching for friction. And when I didn’t grant it willingly, his hand found my thighs and hoisted me up until I was shamelessly grinding on him. 
“Moan for me,” he commanded huskily, voice breaking at the seams from being a captive of pleasure. 
I didn’t just want to moan. I wanted to roar from the way his crotch caressed my clothed pussy, squeezing the juices out of me and letting them trail down my thighs. 
But I didn’t. “Moan for me,” I rebuked, letting my fingers cradle the nape of his neck, pulling on his silver locks. Another moan rippled through the air, reaching my clit. And I knew if I didn’t stop any time soon, I would be the one moaning and begging on this very couch. “Good boy.” 
Draco’s eyes widened at the remark, his sharp eyes piercing mine. Immediately, I let go of him, standing up.
I dusted my dress, adjusting the neckline which almost exposed my breasts completely. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I commented with feigned innocence. This particular area only had a handful of students huddled around, and the one closest to us was a mere few feet away. The girl beside my boyfriend, Pansy Parkinson, didn't need an education to understand that I was directing my words at her.
Her jaw ticked, breath coming out ragged—maybe she was having a sex marathon in her head, getting off on the thought of my boyfriend and me. “I wish I hadn’t seen you at all,” she conceded, hastily scurrying away.
As she left, I saw Clarissa standing behind me. A shadow of confusion crossed over her features, quickly replaced by amusement. “Well, now that she’s gone. Why don’t we give Draco a few minutes to hide that bulge he’s sporting? Atlas, wanna dance?” 
“After what just happened, I won't let any chance slip away to have you close to me, Clares.” He wasted no time getting up. He side-eyed his brother for a moment, unable to hide his smirk. “Here.” Atlas reached out for his Elf Wine, extending it to Draco. “You look flushed. Why don’t you cool off a bit like a good boy?” 
Ignoring our collective laughter, Draco swatted the glass away from his face. He regarded me with an air of irritation, his pupils heavily dilated. 
“Remember when I warned you that it’s much harder for men to mask their wants? Bet you wish you were less of a dick now,” I taunted, earning myself a loud cheer from Atlas and an uproarious laugh from Clarissa. 
Draco had yet to say anything, and I knew he was meticulously considering the retributions he would inflict upon me for this audacious move. But I didn’t care. With a skip in my step, I turned around and strutted away. But before I could make my grand escape, a hand firmly wrapped around my wrist, halting my movements. In the blink of an eye, I was flung onto the couch, landing right where my boyfriend had been sitting just seconds before.
“Draco!” Atlas chastised. He was already taking a step forward, visibly astounded by his brother’s brisk action. Even Clarissa was worried. 
But I wasn’t. 
Draco didn’t spare either of them a glance as he let his gaze fall onto mine. The pools of silver were sizzling, menacing, and fierce—ready to consume me whole. But they were also lustrous, encasing ardent desire. And I found myself getting far more aroused than afraid by the visceral passion they exuded. 
Draco took three meaningful steps toward me, his agile strides reminding me that I was the prey to his snake. He stopped at a short distance, letting one of his hands extend to the back of the couch while the other casually reached for an abandoned shot on our table. 
“Open that sinful mouth of yours, Y/N.” I obeyed. Because if I didn’t, I would self-combust. Screw whatever punishment the devil has for me. I would take it without another word if it meant relieving some of that desire between my legs. “Good girl. Take it all, but don’t you dare swallow yet,” Draco demanded as he filled my mouth with the electrifying drink. 
My eyes welled up, stinging from the searing pain that consumed my mouth and pierced my heart, yet I resisted the urge to close them. Draco disregarded the empty shot glass and tenderly stroked my cheek with his free hand. The weight of the onlookers' gazes bore down on us, but I felt a profound sense of gratitude that the Malfoys were influential and esteemed enough that no one would dare intervene in what they were witnessing.
I squeaked when Draco took my cheek between his fingers and forced the burning drink outside of my mouth. I could feel my heart shuddering as the liquid trailed down my neck to my chest and the valley of my breasts. 
I couldn’t stop staring at Draco while desperately clenching my thighs. Of course, he was too engrossed with the trek the alcohol was taking down my body. 
“Draco,” I whined, practically begging for his touch. The bastard smirked, ever so slowly coming closer. 
“Starshine,” he breathed against my breasts. Immediately, his hand sneaked down, reaching for my thighs. His fingers dug deep into my skin. I moaned, then I cried out in pleasure when his tongue darted out of his mouth, tracing the remains of the alcohol all the way from my chest to my mouth. He hovered over my lips, his silent exhale caressing my mouth. “If I were any less of a dick, I’m sure you’d still cry out for me.”
He pushed himself off my body, the sheer abruptness of his actions causing me to wince. “Wh—”
“Go dance, Y/N,” he said. No, he dared. It was obvious what he was doing. Bold and bright in the middle of the night. He knew I needed him, craved him. And he reveled in the thought. 
So, I did what any sane woman would do. I straightened my hair, fixed my clothes, and rushed to his arms. “I wanna dance with you,” I whispered against his lips. He met mine in a sensual dance, and before I knew it, he was already leading me out of the Common Room and into his arms.
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Draco Taglist:
@imabee-oralizard @ameliaphoenix @arcana-greenleaf @dittos-blog-dylanobrien
So this happened unexpectedly. Slightly inspired by that one scene from Culpa Mia (My Fault). Hope y’all like it.💚
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