#i need new content like i need air you guys
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lovscb97 ¡ 2 months ago
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— stray kids links [hyung line]
tags: hyung line!stray kids x fem!reader, established relationship, rough sex, unprotected sex (plz wrap it before u tap it), creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, mild dacryphilia, begging, use of collars/leashes, spanking, strength kink, oral sex (f. receiving), squirting, car sex, slight exhibitionism, slight choking, use of nicknames (baby, princess, angel, kitten, etc), degradation (slut, whore, etc), dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, etc
wc: 2.73k
add. notes: hai …. sorry i made this post instead of giving u guys nerd!chan pt. 2 I FUCKIN SWEAR IT’S COMING but it’s just taking the piss out of me n i needed this out for a new post. anyways plz dni if u r a minor like i mean that w my whole chest n also lmk if some of the links stop working or if u can’t see them idk what i can do abt that . but at least i will be aware LMFAOOOOO yea anyways enjoy :3
maknae line ver.
. . .
⥽ … BANG CHAN: 
link one.
chan is packing. he is absolutely packing to the point you felt like he was going to tear your womb apart when you first got intimate with him, his thick cock stretching you out past your limits as fresh sobs fell from your mouth. since then, he's trained you to take him with enough prep, always making sure to milk at least two orgasms from you before he even thinks about letting his dick near your pussy regardless of how hard it might be throbbing. that wait becomes worthwhile though when he finally sinks inside of you, dirty words and throaty groans rambled in your ear as he releases himself deep inside once he's reached his peak. he loves the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in, never leaving you alone until he's dumped his load empty.
"fuck, baby. how are you so tight?" chan hisses incredulously, wet thumb still circling your clit as you shake in his hold. you're extremely sensitive at this point, twitching from the slightest touch after having cum for the third time, but the only thing in your mind right now is your boyfriend breeding you, the request made obvious with how you tighten your legs around his waist to pull him in. "cum in me, daddy. please!" you plead, teary eyes blinking up at chan whose orbs roll to the back of his head at your keen expression. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's shooting ropes of hot cum inside you, gripping himself to ensure he stays in place. you sigh in content at the warm liquid flooding you, and chan just smiles tiredly, leaning in to sweetly kiss you. "i love you, precious girl." he whispers, resting his body on top of you to keep you plugged up for the rest of the night.
link two.
you're chan's favourite destress toy, that much is obvious. every time he comes home from a long day at work, he knows it'll be worthwhile because you'll be there waiting with open arms and your wet hole longing to be filled up. he'll even take you right then and there in the living room sometimes, making sure everyone around you two knows exactly whose name you're screaming. certain days when he's had it particularly bad though, he'll collar you up and attach a leash to it that he can pull back on, bending you over with your ass up in the air as he slams himself into you repeatedly. it gives him immense pride to have that sense of control over you, to be able to manoeuvre you into whatever position he desires. if he's feeling especially mean, he'll edge you until you're crying into the sheets, cooing at how fucked out you look, knowing he's the only one who can make you feel that way.
"please.. i wan' cum, please." you slur out mindlessly, drool dripping down your mouth as chan slowly drags his cock in and out of you, its mushroom tip pressing deliciously against that spot inside. your boyfriend just chuckles from behind you, his hand yanking on the leash that's tied to your collar which makes you lean back in an instant. his hand sneaks down to grip himself as he pulls out for the nth time, and you whine at the loss of fullness in you, bottom lip jutting out as he slaps the head of his cock against your clit. "yeah, princess? you wanna cum? wanna cum all over daddy's dick?" he mocks you, laughing sadistically when you desperately nod your head. he continues to rub up your little nub, and you're soon about to fall over the edge, gratitude on your lips when he suddenly stops. "oh, baby, you're not cumming that easily tonight." chan growls, causing you to shiver under his hold as he pushes you back onto the bed. it looks like you're in for a long night.
⥽ … LEE MINHO: 
link one.
you love pissing minho off. it's one of the little things in life that gives you so much pleasure, aside from when your boyfriend fucks you, of course. minho, on the other hand, doesn't take lightly to your teasing at all. on days where you're acting out by wearing revealing clothes in front of his friends or sitting too close to one of them for his liking, he'll drag you out with some lame excuse and a clenched jaw, mumbling something about how you're both going home now. he doesn't even care that you're probably smug by the end of it, because that feeling of triumph soon dissipates when he has you bent over his lap, veiny hands kneading the plush of your ass before he's landing a harsh smack on it. he'll spank you and make you count your punishment, and if you lose track, he'll just have to start all over again.
"fucking slut." minho tsk's, cold fingers running themselves against the bruised skin of your butt. he takes a moment to admire his work, tracing the red imprints of his hand on your ass and even the outline of your white panties, which are absolutely soaked by now. "min, please! 'm sorry, it won't happen again." you cry out, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes although you can't see it. another series of repeated spanks land on you, and you yelp in response, legs kicking up from the stinging impact. your body burns by now, every touch minho provides it leaving behind a searing sensation, but you know your boyfriend is far from done with you. "we both know that's a damn lie." he clicks his tongue. "you're always acting out, so it seems like i gotta really start putting you in your place, hm?" you're about to protest when he smacks again, drawing a sob from you; the sound goes straight to his core. he licks his lips, a smirk stretched across them as he readies his palm once more. "now, stop crying and start counting, whore."
link two.
it's no secret that minho is a certified ass man. he loves you, but god does he love your ass just as much. everything about it sends him reeling, from the way it's accentuated in the clothes you wear, to the plump flesh of it that jiggles every time he's got you on your hands and knees. you'd argue he puts you in this position at least once every time you two fuck because knowing your boyfriend, he just wants to watch the way you push back on him when he's bottomed out inside you. he'll give you a few smacks here and there on it too, kneading the skin in his palms before he's snapping his hips into yours. most of the time, he'll refuse to cum inside of you, instead pulling out just before he tips over the edge to release all over your behind and back. you're not complaining though, you love the feeling of his seed dripping over it just as much as he does.
"mm, shit, you look so good right now, kitten." minho groans from behind you, cockhead practically battering your cervix with the way he's shoving himself in and out of you. your whines are high in pitch with how he's fucking you, and you stutter to speak when you try and respond. "y-you say that every time." you eventually manage to heave out, and minho chuckles breathlessly, fingers gripping the flesh of your ass in them as he bites his lip, moaning lowly at the way it bounces back against his dick. "can't help it. you're too hot." he grunts, pistoning his hips at a frenzied pace that knocks the breath out of your lungs. it only takes a matter of minutes before you're both cumming, loud noises filling the room as minho pulls out just in time so he can splatter his release all over your backside. his thumb dips into the seed that now decorates your ass, and he swipes to collect it, pushing it into your mouth. a grin decorates his face as you suck on it. "atta girl."
⥽ … SEO CHANGBIN: 
link one.
changbin is a gym fanatic through and through, and with his rigorous work out routine eventually came his well-built physique, chiselled and bulked up to the point you think you would barely recognise his past self. it refects in the way he walks, talks and holds himself; he loves his strength and he loves showing it off, especially to you. that's why every time you're both entangled in his sheets, it results in him urging you to stand up before hoisting you in his arms. some days he'll hold you in them and bounce you up and down his cock, relishing in the way your cries echo through the room alongside the slapping of skin. other days, he'll toss you around and headlock you as he pounds you from behind, groaning filth in your ear as he pushes you to the edge of tipping. either way, you love what he does, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
"hng, so strong, binnie!" you wail, hands clutching your boyfriend's broad back and shoulders as your nails dig into his soft skin, sure to leave marks the next day. changbin just grunts at your sounds of pleasure, too immersed in fucking you onto his cock in your current position. he's got you clinging onto him for dear life as he enters you repeatedly, pride blooming in his chest when you acknowledge how hot it is that he can pick you up so effortlessly. "y-yeah, pretty? like when binnie fucks you like this?" he stutters slightly, too wrapped up in how your pussy clings to his girth. you nod your head rapidly, babbling about how close you are and how hard you're going to cum, spraying all over your boyfriend in due time when he slams into that spot hidden inside you. you're not even given a chance to recover afterwards, changbin manhandling you onto the bed on your stomach before he's sinking back inside. "just a little more, baby. binnie's gotta cum too, okay?" he's whining, and you keen despite the sting of overstimulation rushing through, not knowing you're going to end up letting him use you for another hour.
link two.
you've always known changbin is a romantic at heart, his soft-spoken nature despite the daunting aura he gives off due to his frame often sending your brain spiralling. it gives you whiplash, the way he treats you. some days he'll fuck you like he hates you, growling dirty comments to your face and spitting in your mouth as you shake through an orgasm. other days, however, he'll craddle you in his arms, caging your body underneath him as he rocks his hips against yours in deep, fluid motions. one of his favourite things to do during these instances is hold your hand. he loves the feeling of your fingers lacing through his, holding onto him as he delivers sharp strokes inside of you. something about it feels so raw, like both your souls are intertwined in one big hug. he'll kiss you dizzy, burying his face into your neck as you both whimper 'i love you's' to each other.
"baby.. fuck, baby." changbin moans, his breath fanning hot against the sticky skin of your shoulder from where he's nosed himself in. his hand clings to yours amidst his movements, and you mewl loudly when he thrusts particularly deep inside of you. "i love you. love you so much, my baby. my pretty, perfect angel." your boyfriend pants, head moving to bring his lips to yours in a messy meeting. it's filled with so much love and care, your mouths moulding perfectly against one another's as you exchange kisses. your stomach feels like it's filled with butterflies, but you're not sure if that's because of how fucking in love you are with him or because of changbin rocking his hips into you. either way, you pull apart from him, trying to say it back in the middle of your noises of pleasure. "l-love you so much, binnie. fuck, you always give it to me so good." you praise, and changbin visibly shivers, burying his face back where it was between your neck to continue making love to you until at last, you're both coming undone together.
⥽ … HWANG HYUNJIN: 
link one.
one thing you adore about your precious lover boy is his mouth. his pretty, plump lips that kiss your tears away, or his dangerously addictive tongue that's always finding it's way between your thighs when he feels like it, which is basically all the time. hyunjin can't help that you taste so sweet, or how you're always so perfectly wet for him by the time he's journeyed down to your legs where you truly need him. he'll spend hours buried between them, parting you with his slender fingers and holding you open for him to lick into. he finds extreme satisfaction in the way you push back against his body when he's having a go at you, too weak to move him in your futile efforts of running away from his mouth once he's had you cum twice without stopping. he'll continue anyways though, because to him, there's no better treat after a long day.
"hyunie, s-slow down." you whimper, the lewd suckling sounds of your clit being wrapped in your boyfriend's mouth resonating through the room as he messily eats you out. his movements are filled with fervour and desperation, something you'll never get used to experiencing despite how long you've been together. each time almost always feels like you're starring in some obscene porno with the way hyunjin always drawls out the most nasty sounds from you. this instance is no different either, because before you can even react, you're spraying droplets of clear liquid on his face, your boyfriend groaning into you at the feeling of you squirting on him. he cleans it all up with great pleasure, breathing heavily as he finally rises from his position to slot himself between your legs. his lips find yours in a dirty kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. "you're insatiable." you murmur when he pulls away, and hyunjin chuckles, mouth hovering over your jaw as you tremble at his next words. "not my fault my baby's got the tastiest cunt in the world."
link two.
hyunjin is a freak through and through. you've known for a while that he gets off on all sorts of things, and one of them is primarily the risk of being sneaky in public, regardless if it's planned or not. there have been one too many occasions of the latter where you've both been out on a date together with you looking a little too good, too good to the point that the waiter starts flirting with you and leaving hyunjin seething. it's only high time after that until he's dragging you out of the restaurant and into his backseat, too lazy to even undress properly before he's sinking inside of you to fuck you as he sees red. he'll get so possessive too, groaning how you're his and his only whilst pulling you back by your hair. it's true that your boyfriend is a big lover, but when times come down to this, he'll drill into you like he absolutely loathes you.
"dirty slut, letting me fuck you where anyone can see. you'd even let that server find you like this, wouldn't you?" hyunjin grits out, his sweat dripping onto your back as he shoves his long length in you. you're sure the windows are fogged up by now, his car rocking with his movements, but neither of you care about that. "n-no, only want you to see. just you, hyune." you whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his cock slams in you with each thrust. your boyfriend lets out a low moan at your words, yanking you back by your hair to lick at your neck. "that's right, princess. only i get to look at this pussy, hm? only i can f-fuck it right, yeah?" he grunts, slender fingers coming up to wrap around your throat as you nod shakily, taking a deep breath as hyunjin squeezes slightly. "gonna cum in this cunt and fill you up with my babies so everyone knows who you belong to. then, i'm taking you straight home to fuck you full again. got that?"
. . .
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3
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bunny-jpeg ¡ 7 months ago
Text
"ex" husband
simon "ghost" riley
cw: pwp/smut, ex husband!simon, possessive!simon, dark themes, mirror sex & other smut, major red flags, proceed with caution, bad husband!simon, manipulation
bunny says: once you fuck crazy, you never not fuck crazy
simon didn't believe in divorce. he made a vow to be with you till death, he wasn't going to skimp out on the years you could spend together. he wouldn't accept that you wanted to be without him.
he had you on the floor of your shared bedroom, you were holding onto him behind yourself while his hands were on your hips. he was rubbing his cock up against your slick entrance.
"have you had any other guys over? fuckin' them in my bed, in my home that i paid for?" he held it over your head as he watched your face contort with pleasure. he continued to rub his tip up against your slit.
"no, simon." you panted. your heart raced with every moment that passed. your body was hot all over. "i haven't had anyone else, not since you." your pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation for what was to come. you were almost certain that your cunt was formed to the size of his cock.
"good, good. i don't want some fuckin' prick comin' to my home and fuckin' my girl." his voice was low as he got a hand between your legs and touched your clit with his rough fingers.
you arched your back and moaned out loud. you could be as loud as you needed to be. he kept his wife in a home far enough from everything that you could whimper and whine to your heart's content. your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the thrill of pleasure through your body.
"nothin' can have ya. no stupid asshole who thinks he can have what is mine. you made a promise, love. to be loyal to your husband." he growled as he gripped your jaw with his other hand and made you look into the mirror, "i don't think someone who wants to leave her husband would be lettin' him fuck her in their bedroom."
"simon, please." you whimper.
"nah, nah, love.' he said, accent heavier due to the immense lust in his body, "i was a good man to you. lovin', carin', did everythin' for ya. and you turn around like an ungrateful brat and try to leave me." his voice was getting deadly. his hand still held your jaw and his other played with your clit. you were stuck to him, "fuckin' slag. surprised you haven't fucked your way through the neighborhood to find a new man. because you'd never find one like me. or you're scared. scared i'd find him, and make him go missin'."
you swallowed, fear struck through you, "simon. i didn't sleep with anyone."
he buried his nose into your hair and groaned as his cock still prodded your pussy lips, "i know, i know. you don't actually want to leave me. your girlfriends got these thoughts into your head that i don't think are true. better without me? love, i made you."
you panted heavily, it was hard to look into the mirror with his hot words into your mouth. maybe he was right, maybe you didn't want to leave him. he had given you everything throughout your entire marriage. why would you sacrifice it?
he pulled his hand away from your pussy and guided his cock into your pussy. the stretch had you gripping onto him. the angle was awkward but he had you contorted to fit his pleasure.
"my good wife." he purred, "i'll always love you. even when you're not usin' that head of yours right. but don't worry." he kissed your cheek, "i'll always take care of my girl."
you held onto him as he thrusted into your from behind. you felt the air leave your lungs whenever he pushed into you. it was an intense feeling on your behalf. you had never imagined that fucking your soon-to-be ex-husband would feel so good.
"like that, love?"
you nodded meekly, "it feels good."
"that's a good girl." he groaned, "made perfectly for me. you are such a good girl for me, love. why would you want to go anywhere? stay with me, keep your vow."
your thighs quivered from the intense feeling of pleasure. your breathing was heavy and your head felt full. your heart leapt every time his cock nudged against a sensitive spot.
"please, simon. i can't be your wife."
"you can. and you will." he took you by the face and tilted your head back so he could kiss you passionately.
you melted into the kiss, as did the last of your resolve. your core throbbed with a need for him. he melted away all your problems. the more he fucked you, the more you wanted to stay with him.
he was your husband after all.
the sex between you two was hot and messy. it made you core soaked as he continued to bully his cock into your sweet cunt with every hard thrust.
"say you love me."
"i love you." you replied, your eyes hooded.
"good girl." he groaned, "i want to hear that every day until you can no longer speak." he licked across your bottom lip, "my good girl."
you whined as your body shook with each thrust of his hips. your pussy clenched around his cock. you felt your mouth to be dry and you voice strained.
simon loved taking you apart, only to put you back together. he continued to fuck you with abandon. he gazed at you with his nose in your hair as he thrusted up into you.
your noises were so cute, you really just were so small compared to him. you needed him! what were you thinking leaving him? you needed your big strong military husband to make sure that you were safe. don't be silly now!
he kissed your neck as he felt the surge of pleasure in his gut. his heart hammered with each every thrust. you were made for him. as he kissed the tip of your ear, he felt the blush that spread across your skin.
"please, simon."
"i got ya, love." he said, "i got ya." with a few more thrusts that hit in just the right place. you saw stars as you climaxed around his cock. his was soon to follow as his cum hit the back of your womb.
where it belonged.
as you rested your face on the carpet of the bedroom in an effort to cool down, simon grabbed your hips and started to thrust into you once more. his cock still painfully hard.
"you've done enough damage, love. so just sit there and let your husband take care of you." his voice was low and deadly. your best option would to just let simon do what he wanted.
-
"so mrs. riley. you've decided against the divorce. any particular reason why?"
you relaxed a little bit in the sleek office chair across the desk from your lawyer. your hand was on your middle as you smiled, "well, we're having a son soon, and he needs his father in his life. so i reconsidered."
"the case against your husband is fairly strong. broken locks on the door, his overly possessive behaviour, the text messages and voice mails, all of it. you could be granted a divorce quite easily."
you shook your head, "no need. we've worked it out." you smiled at the lawyer. you knew your simon was waiting for you in the car. his words echoed in your mind as you assured your lawyer that her services weren't needed.
you and simon were properly a family now. you didn't need to tear it apart. after all, how else were you going to end up with many little rileys running around?
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gloomyluvr ¡ 6 days ago
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NEEDY
in which rafe just wants to nap
fem!reader x rafe cameron
fluff
warnings!: bit of sarah shade. cameron siblings getting along (iktr 🙂‍↕️), reader is from the cut and kind of a pogue idk,
a/n: hiii ! first rafe fic ever and first fic since 2023 (oops...) to my spiderverse readers i will write when they give us content and when the fandom is alive. hope this fic is good and people like it. it's not the best but i'm working on other fics so give me a chance please 😣. this ones pretty short. pls let me know if you enjoyed this or if there are any spelling errors. requests are open !
masterlist
summer in the outer banks was nothing short of fun. spending most days at the beach taking in the warm sun, relaxing and cooling down in the cold water, all while hanging out with the people you love most. but fuck, did it get so hot sometimes. unbearably hot. it wasn’t enough to cool down in the water, the intense sun on skin overpowering the coolness of the ocean. it was worse at the chateau, or anywhere on the cut. only a lucky few could afford the luxury of air conditioning. fortunately, you had a super awesome hot rich boyfriend with a mansion with air conditioning that ran 24/7. 
you laid in bed with the youngest cameron sibling, helping her with online shopping for the upcoming school year. having been with rafe for just a couple months, you had become close with his sisters. you saw sarah at the chateau with john b more than you had ever really seen her at tannyhill. therefore, when you spent time at the mansion, you typically spent time with wheezie when you got bored with rafe. 
“wait, that one’s cute,” you pointed to a crop top on wheezie’s laptop which rested on her knees.
“i think i already have that one though.” she looked around her room to see if the top was among the clothes on the floor before giving up and continued scrolling through the catalogue, “i feel like these clothes are too revealing.”
“cmon wheeze! this is nothing, you just gotta get out of your shell. it’s just clothes, try something new and i don’t know, maybe you’ll like it.” you tried convincing the younger girl. over the past few months you had become like an older sister to her, as sarah spent more time with john b and the other pogues.
“my dad would never let me buy these,” she turned her head to look at you. 
“just put it on rafe’s card,” you whispered, “i won’t tell.” you stuck your pinky out and wheezie quickly wrapped her pinky around yours, giggling. 
as wheezie finalized her cart a familiar voice began to call out for you, “babeee! babeee where are you!”
wheezie rolled her eyes, “speak of the devil,” she muttered. 
“summon him and he shall come,” you smiled at her which she returned, “i’m in wheezie’s room!” you called back. on queue, you heard obnoxiously loud stomps coming up the stairs. “he is so dramatic and for what?”
rafe stood in the doorway looking at you and his younger sister, “why’d you steal my girlfriend, wheeze?” 
 it was your turn to roll your eyes, “she didn’t steal me, dipshit. you were too busy ignoring me for topper and kelce and your stupid game so i came up here where i am truly loved.” you sighed, wrapping yourself around wheezie who stuck her tongue out at her older brother. in return, rafe picked up one of the shirts laying on the floor and chucked it at wheezie. 
“douchebag!” she yelled.
“cmon y/n, i wanna go take a nap.” 
“but i’m so comfy here!” you whined cuddling wheezie tighter. 
rafe walked over to your side and quickly got on the bed, spooning you and throwing one of his long legs over your body, reaching wheezie. rafe wasn’t an affectionate brother by any means, but when he was with you he definitely softened up with everyone around you guys. 
wheezie kicked her brother’s calf, “ew get your nasty dogs away from me!” but rafe didn’t budge.
“what’re you guys doing?” he mumbled looking at the laptop screen. 
“y/n’s helping me shop for school.” 
“why? you have enough clothes. you don’t need none of those crop tops. no boyfriends till you’re 30.” rafe stated as he viewed the clothes on the screen.
you gently smacked the leg that was on top of your own, “don’t be rude! wheezie’s not little anymore.”
 “hm, whatever.” he grumbled, nuzzling his face against your neck, eyes shut as he fully enveloped you leaving no space between your bodies. his hands found yours, wasting no time to intertwine your fingers. 
“get off me, fatty!” you feigned disgust, as if you weren’t enjoying every second of rafe’s neediness to cuddle.
rafe grumbled, “only if you come take a nap with me in my room.” 
“fineeee, get up then,” you reached behind to gently smack his butt and he quickly got up, no effort to hide his big smile, “sorry wheeze, duty calls.” you sighed, getting up following rafe as he walked to wheezie’s door.
before walking out he turned back to wheezie and stuck his tongue out as she had done earlier. with no hesitation, wheezie returned the gesture as you smacked rafe’s head and shoved him out the door. 
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pacofprunes ¡ 7 days ago
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let me help ya’ relax.
thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)
warnings — noncon, public (voyeurism), tears, kissing, use of the word bitch, use of the word rape, pussy kissing, choking, slight / barely but manhandling,
by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+
“hey beautiful.”
“the hell?”
standing right in front of you, or rather over you, player 230. it was night and everyone was asleep or sitting in a corner somewhere. you didn’t know this guy beside seeing him the first two games and seeing him act like a fucking lunatic. you sit up and gather yourself.
“what do you want?”
“oh you know, just wanted to talk to a pretty girl.”
he does a cheeky smile. you stare. what do you even say to that. thank you i guess…?
“uh—”
“no need to thank me, it’s what i do. just such a great fucking guy right?”
he picks at the cross on his neck before pulling a pill out and holds it out to you.
“you use?”
“what?”
“drugs. do you do drugs? or have you done them before?”
how the fuck did he manage to bring his shit in here for one, and for two; why the hell is he more worried about doing drugs rather than living. that’d be the last thing you’d be thinking about.
“no. i dont do them and i dont have any interest in that.”
he does a fake pouty face.
“come on babe, loosen up ya’know? don’t wanna stress your pretty little face out.”
he pops the pill in his own mouth. where was this guy going with this? he clearly wants to stay here, hence the big blue ‘O’ on his jacket. so if he’s bored he should go talk to the people on his side. how the hell could you relax watching people you’ve gotten close to or even have just spoke to once die? meanwhile this dudes been jumping around having the time of his life while he’s been here. if this game ended tomorrow, he’d join it again a million times over. or maybe he wouldn’t but the drugs in his system sure as hell would.
“yeah, no… i appreciate your kindness but i don’t even know you and i think i’m just gonna lay back down.”
he grabs your hand and starts shaking it aggressively.
“my names thanos, it’s great to meet you! now you know who i am.”
he smiles again. you just stare. that’s not how it works at all. you could tell he was waiting for you to introduce yourself but you just brush it off and tell him again you’re going to lay back down. before you get to turn over and lay though, he grabs your face with both of his hands and presses your lips together into a deep kiss. he holds you there for a good while, and it felt like you were suffocating.
“what the fucks wrong with you?”
“baby, you could be my new drug! change that ‘X’ into an ‘O’, we’d be absolutely unstoppable!”
“this is real life you idiot, not some fucking video game!”
you slap his hand away from you and try telling him to get lost, but he just grabs your wrist and pushes you back onto your bed. you yell at him to get the fuck off of you but he just presses a finger up to your mouth hushing you.
“sex is a great way to relieve stress. just let me make you feel good. don’t be too loud though, unless you want the others to see us. but by all means, do it. it’s only making me harder.”
he laughed and winked at you. you suck the air through your teeth and he still holds onto your left wrist with one of his hands while letting the other one push at his chest. you’re more cautious with your voice level now and in a whisper you try again to get him to go.
“i don’t want to have sex with you, can you just go? go jack off in the corner or mess with literally any other girl here!”
he ignores you for the time being and goes to push your pants down, but with your free hand you grab his hand to stop him.
“gee babe, how sweet of you to wanna hold my hand! but uh, i kinda need it to get to the fun part.”
he ignores your hand continuing to grab at his, not proving to be much of use at all besides annoying him. he pushes your pants down, and then your panties to your ankles; acting as sort of some form of restraint. it would prove to be somewhat more difficult to kick at him now as your footing would get caught in the pant legs. he sits up off of your chest finally and starts to pull his pants and boxers off. you wanted to scream at him so badly to get off of you, to scream for some help, but you knew nobody would and all they’d do was watch. it wasn’t anybody’s problem and they weren’t going to make it theirs.
he cups your sex and starts rubbing circles at your tiny little hole to get you all soaked and ready for him. he leans down and he kisses it. he was literally about to start making out with your fucking pussy.
you squeezed your eyes shut and a couple tears come sliding down. god, first you’re in this game that seems normal, then people around you start getting shot, nobody wants to go home, and now you’re getting rapped by some crazy ass drug addict that calls himself fucking thanos. thanos! you’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel his thumb on your face and him wiping your tears. you slightly open your eyes and he kisses you again. this time with your free hand you push as hard as you can at his face. he moves back and he makes an ‘ow’ face and rubs his forehead. he grabs your used to be free wrist and just pushes it to your side and holds it there.
“it’s always the prettiest bitches that play fucking hard to get.”
he lines up his cock with your somewhat wet hole. he maybe would’ve spent a little more time prepping you but you just ticked him off and he wasn’t going to help you anymore than he already has.
“it’s alright, i’ll have screaming my name and this whole place will know it by the time we’re done baby!”
oh god you were gonna be sick. you feel the sudden intrusion and you immediately tense. biting your lip back from screaming and shaking your head, tears flying left and right. you try to bend and claw your fingers at his hands that are holding yours down but it proves to be futile. you yell at him, while still keeping your voice down to stop and that he’s gotten enough and that he should go.
“agh—please—”
“please? you—fuck’—you want me to please keep going? well you don’t have to tell me that, i was already going to!”
he keeps a fast pace going, and the bed might as well of slid off of the shitty bars it was being held up on. everybody sleeping above you could definitely feel the whole thing moving. you try to fish your legs out of your pants legs to at least have some sort of way of pushing him away but it proves to be slightly harder than you thought.
“fuck babe—you feel so—fuck- so fucking good.”
he sucks the air through his teeth breathing heavy, while you’re doing the opposite and holding your breath.
“god you’re so tight, and you’re so — m’- so hot. i wish i could feel every inch of your — agh - you’re body but you’re too much of a fucking bitch, so i gotta keep ya’ still.”
he stops at an in thrust and moves his face down to yours, causing his cock to go deeper in you and causing you to bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. he press his forehead to yours, your sweat causing them to almost stick together. he whispers to you while keeping perfect eye contact.
“but your my fucking bitch right? you’ll be my dumbed out little whore, baby. should get a tattoo on ya’ that says thanos’s bitch.”
he laughs moves down to your neck, starting to kiss all over it. leaving sweet marks all over as he starts thrusting into you again. you just feel his heavy hot breath against your neck and you just stare up at the bars above you and hold in the choked up sob threatening to come out. you feel his cock tense in you, threatening to shoot his load out and your eyes widen. he starts thrusting harder. he lets go of both your wrists and before you can even breathe out, relieved from the slightest bit of less pressure, he wraps both his hands around your throat and looks you in the eyes the whole entire time.
“come on bab — fuckk’- babe. look at me pleas- come on, watch how good you — you make me feel.”
you start to scratch at his his hands and his arms. he’d most definitely be marked up all over by the morning. finding it increasingly more difficult to breathe. you finally decide to look him in the eyes, sending him a pleading look to stop and to quit choking you, your face slowly starting to turn a shade of blue. upon your eyes looking at him, seeing those teary orbs and pleading face, it sends him over the edge. he sends a curse your way before he surprisingly pulls out his load going all over the bed. he lets go of your neck and pulls up his boxers, falling on top of you. his weight making it hard for you to completely catch your breath. you start to choke and hiccup on your own tears before he looks up at you and strokes his hand across your face, catching a few tears in his hand.
“i told you it wouldn’t be bad at all. don’t you feel a little more at ease now? are you prepared for the games tomorrow?”
not at all. was he fucking delusional? he lays his head back on your chest, looking up at you like a child, and rubs his hands up your sides.
“tomorrow when we vote, you better change to an ‘O’. wouldn’t want my pretty girl to betray me after all.”
he does a fake pout at the end of that. you go to sit up to pull your pants back up but he stops you.
“uhm, allow me. wouldn’t want you to do any hard labor! i’ll take care of it all for ya.’”
he pulls your panties and your pants up and sits up off of you, getting his own pants situated. he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the top of it, looking at you in your eyes with a smile, your eyes still watering. and you send a glare his way.
“ouch babe! you hurt me here.”
he smacks his chest a couple times where his heart was.
“i’d stay here and sleep with you, but my friends will want a piece of you too if they find out that’s what i did tonight.”
you shudder at the thought of that.
“but dont worry. i’ll see you tomorrow. i’ll see ya at breakfast, yeah?”
he pulls you in for one long kiss and you push him away and he almost falls into the next bed over. he grabs at his heart again dramatically.
“ugh, i don’t wanna leave you. we’ll talk tomorrow though, kay? maybe have some more fun too.”
he winks at you again before turning over his shoulder and literally skipping away, running with his arms in the air and his hands in fists. you just hug your knees, crying into them, and now more than ever you wanted to go home. god this was so fucked. you just wanted to go to the bathroom and wash all over yourself but you knew they wouldn’t let you in. you just keep a tight grip around your knees, trying to find some sort of solace while you’re stuck here.
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witchywithwhiskey ¡ 2 months ago
Text
only man allowed
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pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader
summary: you're feeling particularly needy one night, but when you text your situationship to come over, he reminds you that he won't wear a condom, which is a problem since it's a risky time of the month for you. but you tell him to come over anyway.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), consensual non-consent and consensual sexual coercion, sexual roleplay, 'just the tip' trope, breeding kink, bdsm elements, some biting and marking, some dacryphilia, some pain play, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, multiple orgasms, aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior
word count: 8.5k
a/n: listen, i definitely wrote this at a certain time of the month and i'm not going to apologize for it!!! what i will apologize for is the fact that this ended up being way longer than i expected!! i wanted these to be short little fics, but apparently toxic bucky won't let me keep things short 🤭 anyway, this was fun to write and i hope y'all enjoy it!! ♡
you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist
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You missing me, baby?
You could perfectly imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ stupidly handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye as he asked you that question in response to the picture you’d sent. It was a hastily taken photo of your body clad only in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, your fingers pulling up the hem to show a pair of panties—the ones that had made him groan like he was being tortured when he’d first seen them. 
The truth was, you were missing him. You were horny as fuck and you didn’t care if he knew it—which, you were certain he did, because you only ever sent him lewd photos of yourself when you wanted him—but would it kill Bucky to show a little bit of reciprocity, instead of sending you that teasing response?
It didn’t matter that his playfully cocky words only drove your need higher, your body warming as heat flooded between your thighs. You were missing Bucky’s brand of arrogance, and it was all you could think about, the deep rasp of his voice in your ear while he pounded into you, the dirty and depraved things he’d say as his cock slid into your pussy, stretching you out just the way you needed.
You knew, without even touching yourself, that neither your fingers nor your toys would be enough for you that evening. You needed Bucky. Not John Walker, not any of the other guys on your roster—only Bucky Barnes could satisfy the need burning through your body.
So you rolled onto your knees and lowered your upper body to your bed, arching your ass high in the air. You positioned your phone and took a photo of your curved ass, barely clad in your panties, with the TV on your dresser also in frame. You took photos until you got one that you liked well enough and sent it to Bucky.
I’m bored, come chill.
Your text deliberately didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s question—and you weren’t asking him to come over, you were demanding it. You refused to beg a guy like Bucky Barnes, who refused to be exclusive with you, to come over and fuck you. 
But you knew the simple request would drag him away from whatever he was doing on that Saturday evening and get him to your apartment.
So you were surprised when he texted back and didn’t immediately say he was on his way.
You sure? If we end up fucking, I’m not wearing a condom.
The second you finished reading Bucky’s text, you shoved your face into one of your pillows and let out a frustrated groan. Of course Bucky hadn’t forgotten you were in the process of switching to a new birth control and you’d told him that if he was going to fuck you, he’d have to wear a condom.
He’d taken it better than you expected—especially for a guy who claimed sex with you “didn’t feel as good” when he wore a condom. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum or tried to talk you into fucking bare while it was unsafe. He’d seemed happy enough with handjobs and blowjobs, and had always reciprocated by getting you off with his fingers or mouth.
But you could tell from his text that he was reaching his limit and, truthfully, so were you. 
You missed the feeling of Bucky’s bare cock sliding into you, the heat of his stiff length and the drag of his veins against your sensitive inner walls. You were desperate to feel his cum flooding your cunt, filling you up with his seed while his balls twitched against your ass or clit, and he groaned low and deep in your ear. 
Bucky was the only man on your roster allowed to fuck you bare, and it was entirely contingent on him swearing on his mother’s grave that you were the only girl he fucked without a condom. As far as you knew, Bucky had kept his promise—which you knew because you made him get tested at the local clinic at least once a month. 
Still, you were only four weeks in to the 4-6 week period where your doctor had told you to use secondary methods of birth control while you were switching prescriptions. And you were so horny that you were probably ovulating—but you wanted Bucky so bad you could barely think. 
In fact, the thought of letting Bucky cum inside you when it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and was extra not safe because you were switching your birth control, turned you on so much, your whole body shivered with need. Something about the idea, how risky it was, how it might mean Bucky would knock you up, was too good to be ignored. 
You were so horny, you were seconds away from shoving a pillow between your thighs simply so you’d have something to hump against. That probably should’ve been a sign that you weren’t thinking clearly, but instead, it had you making up your mind.
You decided having Bucky over—having him fuck you raw—was worth the risk. In a brief moment of clarity, you reasoned with yourself that there was always the morning after pill. That was good enough for you.
So you texted him back.
I’m sure.
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Bucky showed up to your apartment so soon after you texted him that you were sure that he either broke a number of traffic laws driving over from wherever he’d been, or he’d already been on his way. You loved both ideas, and didn’t want him to give you another reason, so you opted not to ask.
But for how fast he’d gotten to your place, he seemed content to take his time getting to the main event. When you opened the door, you’d been expecting (or, rather, hoping) he’d pounce on you. Instead, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a brief, chaste kiss, asking how your week was and how you’d been since he last saw you.
Then, as you entertained his desire for small talk, Bucky made himself comfortable, stretching out on your bed after kicking off his shoes and beckoning you to curl up with him. You did so, a little warily, and even put on a show you’d seen a million times since you figured Bucky would distract you from it soon enough. 
But he didn’t. 
You lasted all of five minutes before you were lifting your head from Bucky’s chest to look at him, surprised to find the guy you’d texted to come over and fuck you was seemingly engrossed in your show. You whined his name in a pitiful voice, “Bucky.” 
The arrogant smirk you’d pictured when he’d texted you earlier spread across his face and he squeezed you tighter in his hard, muscled arms. 
“Shhh, baby, watch your show,” he rumbled, rolling you onto your back so he was curled around your side, throwing a leg over yours and burying his scruffy face in your neck. “I’m just here to chill, right?” There was a teasing note in his voice that had you huffing out a frustrated sound.
“Bucky…” you grumbled, even as you shifted your head on your pillows to give him easier access to your neck. He rewarded you by kissing your soft skin, sending a tendril of heat curling down your spine and settling heavily between your thighs. “You know this isn’t what I meant when I told you to come over.” 
Bucky lifted himself up onto his forearm, hovering above you so he could stare down into your eyes. His arrogant smirk had slipped off his face, leaving a serious expression as he took in the pinched, frustrated look on yours. He seemed to come to some kind of decision as he stared at you.
“It’s not a safe time for you, right, baby?” he asked, each word said slowly, intentionally, another meaning laced within. “You don’t want me to tell you that I’m horny as fuck and the only thing I want is to bury my bare cock in you and cum in your unprotected pussy—you don’t want me to try to talk you into it, to coerce you, right, baby?”
At his filthy words, your heart thundered in your chest and your pulse thrummed between your thighs, and for a brief, blistering moment, you considered throwing a whole entire hissy fit because that’s not what you wanted. You wanted the opposite of what Bucky was saying—and then the deeper meaning in his words hit you. 
Bucky wasn’t really asking if you wanted him to be nice and respectful of the boundaries you’d set, even though you’d already essentially given him permission to ignore them. He was asking if you wanted to play along with the idea that you were reluctant to let him fuck you without a condom while you were at risk of getting knocked up.
“That’s not what you want, is it, baby?” Bucky rumbled, his gaze holding yours as he nodded his head slowly, the gesture so at odds with his words, it could only mean he was asking you the opposite of what he said.
You’d been eager for Bucky to fuck you—you were so horny, it was the only thing you could think about—but the opportunity of playing this game with him was too enticing to pass up. Pretending to be reluctant, pretending to slowly give in to Bucky’s whims when it was what you both really wanted, would only make the sex that much hotter. 
An excited smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you saw Bucky’s gaze drop to your lips, his own face flickering with elation as he took in your reaction. You waited until his eyes returned to yours before you answered him.
“Noooo, that’s definitely not what I want, daddy,” you whimpered huskily, the barest hint of sarcasm in your tone as you struggled to stop from smirking. Your head was nodding just as Bucky’s had, and he was the first to break, an eager grin spreading across his face. 
He ducked down and brushed another frustratingly brief kiss to your lips. “You got it, baby, no fucking tonight—just chilling,” he murmured, a teasing tone in his voice that had your body tingling with anticipation.
You were less surprised that time when Bucky snuggled back down on top of you, his mouth going back to your neck where he was working on sucking a hickey into the side of your throat.
Since you knew the game you were playing, it was a little easier to settle in and watch your show, all the while trying to forget the way your pussy was pulsing with need. Still, you wouldn’t have said it was easy to ignore the steady twitching of Bucky’s cock against your thigh as he hardened in his sweatpants.
It only got more difficult to keep your attention on your show when Bucky’s hand slid under your shirt, his fingers trailing idly over your stomach until he eventually reached your tits. He began kneading your soft flesh lazily, his fingers plucking teasingly at your nipples, while his mouth sucked on your neck. 
Despite how obvious it was that Bucky was taking his time, it wasn’t long before you were a wet, whimpering mess beneath him.
“Bucky, w-we shouldn’t fool around,” you murmured breathily, mouth tripping over the words as you voiced the exact opposite of what you wanted. It was like your lips didn’t want to play the game you’d started, but you were rewarded for their effort by his frustrated growl, which had you throbbing between your thighs.
“It’s fine, baby, we’re not doing anything we shouldn’t…” he rumbled against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 
The word “yet” hung unspoken in what little space there was between your bodies, and the promise of it had you warming even more, pressing your thighs together against the ache pulsing in your core. “Bucky,” you whimpered his name, your hips twisting toward him like they had a mind of their own.
“Are ya getting wet, baby?” he asked teasingly in your ear, his fingers tripping down your body until they skimmed along the hem of your panties. All you could do was whine in response and Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you’re dripping for me.”
Your chest was already heaving with heavier breaths just from the way Bucky was teasing his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, taking his sweet time going any lower to where you really needed him. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, and your intention had been to shove his hand deeper into your panties so he’d finally touch your pussy, but instead he stopped.
“Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not gonna fuck you, no matter how wet your pretty little pussy is,” Bucky murmured in your ear, brushing a kiss to your cheek. 
Though his words might’ve sounded reassuring, his tone was a deliciously teasing rumble and you could feel his smirk against your cheek. Your body trembled, your thighs parting for Bucky of their own accord, which had him humming a pleased sound. 
“Good girl, just let me feel you.”
Bucky’s fingers finally dipped into your panties and slid down to your pussy, a breathy little moan bursting from your lips. The feel of his warm, skilled fingers slipping through your soaking wet folds, bumping against your clit before swirling around your aching, clenching hole, was almost too much. 
You had to bite your lip against the urge to beg Bucky to fuck you already, not wanting to ruin the game that was making everything hotter. But he seemed to lose himself for a moment, burying his face in your neck and groaning while his fingers slipped between your swollen and soppy lower lips.
“Fucking hell, baby, you’re drenched for me,” Bucky growled, his voice low and no longer teasing. His fingers were dipping shallowly into your hole and spreading your wetness around, making a mess of your pussy. “You feel so fucking ripe, I gotta feel it—gotta feel you against my cock.”
Bucky was already pushing your panties down your thighs, rising above you and tearing his shirt off over his head before tugging your own shirt from your body. 
At the same time, you were kicking your panties from around your ankles and spreading your legs, sitting up shove at the waistband of Bucky’s sweatpants. When his cock bounced free, you reached for his perfect length, saliva already pooling in your mouth as you gave his girth a reverent stroke.
But then Bucky was urging you back down, guiding your shoulders to the bed and covering your body with his own. You arched up into his warmth while he settled between your thighs, your fingers clinging to his sides.
His darkened eyes were fixed on the juncture of your legs, his fingers going back to playing through your wetness and spreading it around to make a mess of your pussy. Occasionally, he’d bump against your clit, which made your body jolt every time he brushed the needy bundle of nerves. 
Bucky felt so good, and you were so close to getting what you really wanted—his cock inside you—but you forced yourself to remember the game you were playing.
You grabbed Bucky’s face in both hands, tipping it up so you could catch his eye. There was an almost dazed look on his face, but he blinked and focused back on you.
“It isn’t a safe time of the month,” you said, as sternly as you could manage. But your breaths were coming too quickly for there to be much steel in your voice. Bucky’s thumb brushed over your clit purposefully and your hips bore down on his hand, your body begging for more as you whined, “You can’t fuck me bare, Bucky.” 
“I won’t, baby,” Bucky purred, wrapping the fingers that were sticky with your desire around the hard length of his cock. He chuckled when you whimpered at the loss of his touch, leaning down over you and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just let me rub against you—you’re so wet, it’ll feel so good. I won’t push inside your drippy little pussy, baby, I promise.”
You knew he was lying, and you knew Bucky knew you knew he was lying. For some reason, that made everything so much hotter. So did playing the reluctant participant, which was why you bit your lip with fake nervousness as you stared up at Bucky, your panting breaths adding even more uncertainty to your voice when you spoke.
“Oh-okay, daddy, you can rub against me—but no more.” 
The words were barely out of your mouth before Bucky was sliding his thick, hard cock between your pussy lips, making you moan and spread your legs wider, raising your knees toward your chest to give him all the access he needed. 
Bucky let out a groan and dropped down to cover you with his body, his arms digging beneath your back to hold you pinned tightly against his chest. Your sensitive nipples rubbed against him, teasing you relentlessly.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Bucky rumbled, rocking his hips so his cock dragged between your swollen, dripping folds, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body. “So wet… You’re making a fucking mess on my cock, baby.”
“Oh god,” you whimpered in Bucky’s ear, your body shuddering under the onslaught of blistering pleasure and aching emptiness in your core. 
You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, hands digging into his soft brown hair and holding onto him while his hips kept rocking into the cradle of your body, his cock grinding against your clit until you were gushing with wetness all over his stiff length.
“Doesn’t it feel good, baby?” Bucky murmured in your ear, his voice sweetly entreating, like he was trying to convince you of something, though you were already very well aware that his hard shaft grinding into your dripping wet pussy felt better than it had any right. “You’re creaming all over daddy’s cock, baby—tell me how good it feels.”
“Nngh, so goooood,” you keened, hooking your ankles around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to get better leverage to grind against his hard length. You were caught between wanting more and wanting to keep grinding against him. “Your cock feels sooo good, daddy, so big and hard against my drippy pussy.”
“Fuck, ‘m so hard for you,” Bucky groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rutted into your soft, drenched folds with rough, punishing thrusts. “My dick’s throbbing for your cunt, baby, can you feel it?”
He pressed his shaft deep into your slit, the flared head of his cock bullying your clit, and you could feel it. You could feel the pulse in his hard length, joining the rhythm in your center. 
Your body reacted on instinct, your inner walls clenching hard around nothing while you whined his name, “Buckyyy.”
“I can feel you, baby,” Bucky rumbled, the teasing tone back in his voice. “I can feel your cunt mouthing at my cock.” 
Bucky’s words sounded so deliciously depraved that you wanted to turn your head and kiss him, to taste his debauchery straight from his tongue. You knew he had a filthy mouth, but his dirty talk was even hotter because of the game you were playing—and he just kept talking. 
“Feels like ya want me to fuck you, baby,” he cooed, lifting his head to speak directly in your ear. “Does your pretty little cunt wanna get fucked?”
It was on the tip of your tongue to scream, ‘Yes!’ You wanted to get fucked so bad. You practically desperate for Bucky to push inside you and impale you on his cock, to pump into your pussy bare and cum inside you. You managed to bite it back at the last second for the sake of the role you were playing, but you couldn’t get any other words out.
When you were quiet, save for your panting breaths while Bucky’s hips kept up their torturous rocking, he lifted himself, bracing on his forearms so he could hover above you and see your face. He raised an eyebrow in question, his body slowing its movement as his gaze raked over your face, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his blue eyes.
It was clear he was questioning whether you still wanted to play the game you’d both started, and the fact that he was taking the time to check in with you had your heart squeezing uncomfortably in your chest. 
It was an annoying reminder that Bucky wasn’t the kind of man to be selfish and self-absorbed in bed. Even if he was only your situationship, he made sure you were enjoying everything he was doing. 
And you wanted him to know you were enjoying yourself very much—and that you still wanted to play the role you’d been given.
“I want you so bad, Bucky.” The words tumbled from your lips as you gave in to the urge to assuage Bucky’s concern. “I want you so bad, but we shouldn’t,” you whined, pouting up at him as you slipped back into the game. 
The furrow of concern smoothed itself from Bucky’s brow and he smirked before ducking down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. 
His hips began rocking into you again, and he swallowed your responding moan greedily. He groaned himself when you used your ankles hooked around his thighs to grind back against him, your soft, wet pussy sliding against the rough ridge of his cock and making a mess of both of you.
“What if I…what if I just push the tip in?” Bucky rasped, pulling away and catching your eye, a smirk fluttered at the edges of his mouth, like he was trying to hold it back but was failing. “Just the tip—just let me feel you. Please, baby, I wanna feel you so fucking bad.” 
Bucky bowed his head, pressing sweet kisses to your collarbones, a barely restrained chuckle rumbling his chest. It seemed he’d lost the battle with being able to keep a straight face and you couldn’t blame him, your mouth was spread in a mischievous grin while your nails raked through his short brown hair.
“It’s not safe,” you reminded him, but there was an edge of glee in your tone. 
You couldn’t hide the fact that you were having fun with Bucky, playing out the little game he’d started. You were so close to getting what you wanted, that it only made it more difficult to pretend you didn’t want it. 
So when you murmured, “If you cum inside me, Bucky…” your voice was breathless with desire, and you had to cut yourself off to bite back the moan that wanted to be set free. 
Bucky smirked against your neck, his teeth nipping playfully at the mark he’d left on your throat before he responded. “It’s just the tip, baby, promise—I won’t cum inside you.”
Had it always been so easy for you to hear when Bucky was lying, or had he given up on the pretense of the game so much that it was even more obvious? 
The question flitted across your mind but didn’t stay long. You were too busy gasping a quick, “Ok,” your hips tilting, trying to catch the tip of Bucky’s cock in your hole on one of his grinding thrusts. However, it wasn’t until he pulled his hips back that the head of his hard length notched at your tight, clenching pussy.
Both of you held your breath when Bucky pushed inside. He stopped when just the tip was nestled inside the entrance of your warm, wet cunt. 
“Fuuuck,” Bucky groaned, pressing his face into the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over the hollow of your throat and his scruff rasping against your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking warm, baby,” he rumbled into your neck, the sensation of his mouth against your throat making you shiver all over. “Gotta do it again.”
His muttered words were your only warning before his hips reared back, the broad tip of his cock pulling free from your grasping hole. A tortured whimper slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, and Bucky chuckled as he slid back inside you, your pitiful sound dissolving into a moan when the head of his cock popped into your cunt.
“Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Bucky crooned in your ear, doing it again, slower that time, making you feel every tiny bit of his tip pushing into your weeping hole. “My cock sliding into your drippy little cunt—you’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”
“Yes, Bucky, so wet for you,” you echoed, unable to do more when all your focus was on not impaling yourself on Bucky’s cock. Your body squirmed beneath his larger form, one of Bucky’s big hands pressing down on your hip like he knew you were barely holding back from pushing yourself down on his cock.
“It would be so easy for me to slide all the way inside, don’t ya think, baby?” Bucky purred in a teasing tone, his hips rocking forward until he’d pushed another inch deeper before pulling back so only the tip was inside you again.
Just that little tease had you moaning mindlessly beneath Bucky, tears of desire and frustration springing to your eyes. 
Your arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s shoulders and your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs, trying to pull him in deeper. You needed more, to hell with the game you’d been playing. You needed him inside you already. 
“Bucky, please,” you begged on a sob, pressing your face into his cheek.
“I can feel your cunt gripping me, baby, sucking on me—she wants me to push deeper,” Bucky rumbled in your ear, a gruffness to his voice that told you he was reaching the limit of his patience with the game as well. 
In that moment, you’d have done anything to get Bucky to fuck you properly, but before you could speak, he went on. 
“Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his voice rough as crushed rock, his own breaths hot and heavy against your skin. “Want my cock buried deep inside you, filling you up and fucking you hard?”
“Yes, Bucky, please,” you gasped, your hands diving into his hair and pulling his head up so you could look him in the eye. You had to blink the tears from your eyes to do it, but you didn’t want there to be any confusion about what you wanted. “Fuck me, daddy, please!”
A slow, depraved grin spread across Bucky’s face as his eyes roved over your tear-stained cheeks. You felt the tip of his cock twitch inside you, and your body gave an answering clench, like it was begging him to slide inside. But Bucky seemed happy to let his eyes wander over your face, relishing the sight of you crying and begging him to fuck you. 
It felt like a small eternity before his gaze met yours again and he seemed ready to give you what you wanted. 
“But don’t cum inside you, right, baby?” Bucky asked, a devious tone in his voice. His hips pulled back and thrust forward slowly, pushing his big cock inside you at a torturous pace. Bucky’s grin was teasing as he went on, murmuring, “Wouldn’t want daddy knocking you up, right, baby?” 
At Bucky’s words, something inside you snapped. Your mind went blank and your body moved on its own, your legs hiking up Bucky’s sides to wrap tightly around his lower back. Your heels dug into his firm ass and you whined loudly until he let you pull him deeper inside you.
Bucky’s cock impaled you with one thrust, a pleasured grunt slipping from his mouth, half-muffled against your neck. He filled you up all the way to the root of his thick cock and you moaned, long and loud in his ear. 
You finally got what you wanted. Finally, you were full of his cock.
Bucky was buried so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your ass—his big, heavy balls, full of the seed you desperately wanted him to pump inside you. The desire left you dizzy and dazed, your body thrumming with a need to be filled, to be knocked up, to be bred by your situationship.
“Breed me, Bucky,” you whispered breathlessly in his ear. 
He stilled for a very brief second, but then he was groaning obscenely, sucking hard on the hickey he’d already left. Whether it was a reward or a punishment, you didn’t know—nor did you care.
“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his legs shifting on your bed and repositioning himself to fight against the stranglehold you had on his body. 
He pushed up onto his forearms so he could hover above you, his eyes raking over your face as he rolled his hips to fuck you in hard, shallow thrusts that had your lips parting, punched-out whines slipping from your mouth. 
You were so consumed in basking in your pleasure that it took you a moment to realize Bucky had gone quiet—quieter than he normally was when he was fucking you. It took another moment for you to blink your vision back into focus and when you did, you sucked in a sharp breath at the look of pure, depraved desire on Bucky’s face. 
“Do you have something you want to tell me, baby?” he asked dryly, lifting an eyebrow in question. Before you could answer, he ducked down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, the heat of his tongue flicking into your mouth making you moan. “Does my girl have a breeding kink she failed to tell me about?” he asked in a teasing tone, plunging his cock deep into your pussy and grinding hard against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.
“Not your girl,” you managed to gasp, even through the pleasure. 
A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, but it cut off abruptly. It seemed your situationship didn’t like being reminded that he wasn’t the only one who fucked you. Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, biting it a little harshly, making your pussy clench around his cock as you whined through the brief sting.  
“Does John fucking Walker know about your breeding kink?” Bucky seethed, his voice suddenly furious. His anger was reflected in the way he picked up the pace of his hips, fucking you in rough, hard thrusts that had you crying out and clinging to his shoulders, your nails sinking deep into his golden skin. “Do you let John fucking Walker fuck you raw—fucking tell me, baby.”
“No,” you cried, tears of pleasure slipping from your eyes and trailing down your temples into your hair. Bucky’s lips found the salty tears and he kissed them from your skin, making your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. “You’re the only one allowed to fuck me bare, Bucky, you know that.” 
“That’s fucking right,” he growled, punctuating each of his words with brutal thrusts. “I’m the only man who fucks this pussy raw,” he went on in a gruff, furious voice, raising up onto his arms so he could look you in the eye. “I’m the only man who cums inside this cunt, who fills you up until you’re leaking my seed all down your pretty thighs—I’m the only man who breeds you, isn’t that right, baby?”
“Yes—yes, Bucky, only you,” you cried, squirming beneath him, using your ankles hooked around his thighs to meet Bucky’s thrusts. It didn’t even occur to you to fight him on his possessive questions—he was right. He was the only one allowed to do all those things. “Only you, only you—please, I need you to breed me Bucky!”
You were getting close, but before you could tumble over the edge of your release, Bucky sat up, breaking the hold of your arms as he pushed up onto his knees. You let out a frustrated wail, but stopped short at the expression on Bucky’s face.
The look in his eye was wild, nearly feral. His hands were rough and possessive when he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them up toward your chest until you were folded in half. His cock was still inside you, but not nearly as deep as you wanted it in the position Bucky was in. 
Your hips squirmed, a whine working its way up your throat before spilling free.
Bucky leaned back down on top of you, pinning your legs to your chest and your body to the bed as his cock slid deeper until you were so full of him, you swore you could feel him in womb—even though you knew that was impossible. 
He stayed like that, buried inside you, his cock stretching out your tight cunt while he rocked his hips, grinding deeper into you. All the while, he stared at you, his gaze glittering with the wildness that spoke of a deep-rooted possessiveness, but when he spoke, his voice was deceptively sweet.
“You want daddy to breed you, baby?” Bucky cooed in your ear, his mouth pressing wet, messy kisses to your cheek and jaw. “You knew it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and you let me fuck you raw anyway—such a silly little cumslut pretending you didn’t want it, but you do, right, baby?”
All you could manage was a punched-out, “Uh huh,” Bucky’s heavy weight pressing the air from your lungs while he crushed you to the bed. He shifted a little, so you could breathe, but it didn’t seem to matter that you’d responded, because he went on as if he hadn’t even heard you.
“You wanna feel my fat cock bruising your cervix, baby?” he huffed, pausing only to nip at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, making you clench hard around his cock. His next words came out on a filthy groan, pouring into your ear and settling deep in your mind. “Ya want me to flood your fertile little cunt with my seed and breed you—is that it?” 
You were half feral yourself with desire, with your need to cum—with your need to feel him cum inside you—and you weren’t sure if Bucky was checking in with you, or if he was getting off on teasing you, but you rushed to answer, telling him the truth.
“God, Bucky, yes—please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his soft hair and towing his head until your mouth found his, kissing him messily while he kept fucking you in hard, rough thrusts. “Fill me up with your cum, daddy, make me your pretty little cumdump, please, I want it—I need it!” you cried into Bucky’s mouth, your words half muffled because neither of you wanted to pull away. 
“Jesus fucking christ, baby,” Bucky grunted, his hot breath panting past your lips. You felt his mouth curve into a sly smirk. “First you don’t want me to fuck you because it isn’t safe,” he murmured in a teasing tone. “And now you want me to breed your little pussy full of cum—which is it, baby, d’you want me to pull out or cum inside your unprotected cunt?”
A mindless moan slipped from your lips at his filthy question, your mind going entirely blank for a split second. All you could do was feel—Bucky’s thick cock pounding into your pussy, the tip hitting a spot inside you that felt so good, you never wanted him to stop. It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, even if it would’ve been the smart decision.
“Breed me, daddy,” you begged in a throaty, desperate voice. “Breed me, cum inside me—please, please, please!”
“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, but he sounded pleased, too. “I’m so fucking close, baby, so close to draining my balls in your tight little cunt.” 
His body shifted and then he was pounding into you in a new, better angle, making you feel impossibly good as you careened toward the edge of your release. 
“Tell me, baby,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours. “Tell me you never let John fucking Walker cum inside you—tell me I’m the only man allowed to breed you.”
You whined, well aware you’d already told him—and he already knew he was the only one allowed to cum inside you. But it fed the possessiveness Bucky felt, and it felt good to give him that, so you did. 
“You’re the only one,” you promised in a thready voice, your pleasure dripping from every word. “The only man allowed to cum inside me—you’re the only man allowed to breed me, daddy!”
Bucky captured your mouth in a dominating kiss, his tongue plunging past your lips like he was desperate to fuck as many of your holes at the same time as possible. You moaned into his mouth, gripping his face and holding him close while you sucked on his tongue, your nails raking through the scruff on his jaw, both of you groaning at how good the other felt.
Finally, Bucky managed to wrench himself away from your clinging grip and his face hovered above yours, a devious smirk on his plump lips.
“Ya know I heard,” he started, his voice a little breathless and gruff, the deep sound of it singing through your body and making you shiver as your pussy pulsed around his thrusting cock. “If you cum at the same time as me, you’re more likely to get knocked up.” 
A violent shiver raced down your spine and your pussy clenched hard around Bucky’s cock. His words were going to be the end of you, you just knew it, but what a glorious end it would be.
Bucky grinned at your body’s reaction, looking far too pleased with himself, though you were too far gone in your pleasure to try to wipe that smirk off his face. Not that he gave you much opportunity, ducking down to murmur in your ear.
“Rub your clit, baby, I wanna feel you cumming on my cock while I’m knocking you up.”
“Oh my god, Bucky,” you whimpered pleasure spiraling through you at his words, but you did as he said. 
You slipped your hand between your bodies, finding your clit messy and sticky with your desire, your fingertips brushing the thick shaft of Bucky’s cock as he fucked you. Rubbing your clit in ruthless little circles, your body pulled tight.
“Bucky, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop!”
Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the coiled tension in your body finally shattered, and you came with a strangled cry, pleasure consuming your mind and body. 
Your release washed over you in waves of bliss that were so intense, you could feel your arms and legs trembling, your cunt clenching hard around Bucky’s thick length that was still plunging deep into your grasping channel.
“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s cock,” Bucky rasped, brushing sloppy kisses to your face as he rutted into you, his thrusts turning wild and rough. “You feel so fucking good, baby, you’re doing so good for me, gonna make me a daddy for real, baby—Jesus fuck.” 
Bucky cut himself off on a groan, his hips pressing flush to the backs of your thighs, his cock impaled to the hilt in your still fluttering cunt. He came with a loud moan, his cock twitching inside you as he shot rope after rope of cum into your pussy. Your inner walls milked every last drop of seed from his balls while he painted the inside of you white.
When Bucky was finally spent, he collapsed on top of you, your bodies easing into a more comfortable position. He lay on top of you in the cradle of your thighs, his palms smoothing over your hips and sides while your fingers stroked idly through his soft hair. You made small sounds of contentment, and an answering, pleased rumble, sounded in his chest. 
Finally, just when it was beginning to get uncomfortable bearing so much of Bucky’s weight, he heaved himself up onto his knees and carefully slid his cock from your thoroughly used pussy. You watched him, his gaze focused on the slit between your thighs, and you saw the moment his blue eyes darkened when his cum started dripping out of you.
You reached between you thighs, which were splayed over his his spread knees, to clean up the cum before it made a mess of your bedsheets, but Bucky knocked your hand away. He fished through the mussed up bedding until he found his discarded sweatpants and pulled his phone from the pocket. 
Your body was limp with sated pleasure, and he’d taken enough post-sex photos of you, that you let Bucky arrange you how he wanted. You even held your legs open for him so he could position his phone above your pussy and take a couple close-up photos of his cum spilling out of your pussy. Then he pulled his phone back, so your whole body was in the shot.
“Say, ‘I’m gonna be a mommy,’ baby,” Bucky ordered, a lazy grin on his face.
Between your thighs, your pussy pulsed at the words, which sounded so innocent and so filthy at the same time. Heat filled your cheeks and you turned your head to the side, trying to bury your face in a pillow while you whined, “Bucky.” 
You knew it was silly to be shy about saying something so innocuous, especially after everything you and Bucky had just said and done, but the moment was over. You didn’t normally have such a breeding kink, but you’d been so horny and it had made you so hot to talk about getting bred while Bucky was inside you. 
However, it felt like a whole other thing to play into it when the heat of the moment had passed. It felt like the kind of thing boyfriends and girlfriends did, and you knew better than to tread into that territory. 
Still, your body warmed at the idea of looking into Bucky’s camera and saying those words…
“Baby,” Bucky crooned, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “C’mon, I know you wanna,” he murmured in your ear, his mouth brushing butterfly kisses along your jaw. “You don’t have to be shy with me, baby, I know you’re a dirty little breeding slut desperate to be daddy’s good little cumdump.”
“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” you groaned, but you were smiling when you turned your head and met his mouth for a kiss. 
Bucky let you kiss him for a few moments before he pulled away and sat up, holding his camera in position while he raised his eyebrows at you in an expectant expression.
“I’m gonna be a mommy,” you mumbled, pouting up at the camera while Bucky snapped a few photos. It wasn’t long before you were smiling and preening for the camera, sticking your tits out and holding your legs even wider for Bucky.
“Good girl,” he murmured, catching your eye as he lowered his phone. He was giving you a pleased smirk, and you smiled up at him in return.
Bucky gently moved your legs from around his waist and flopped down on the bed beside you, swiping through the photos he’d taken of his cum leaking out of your pussy while you curled around his bicep. You had to admit, they looked hot—even the ones of you pouting and mumbling up at him.
Seeing yourself like that was turning you on and you were just about to shimmy down Bucky’s body and lick his cock clean until he was hard again when he spoke, derailing your dirty thoughts.
“I’ll pick up the morning after pill for you before I head home,” he rumbled absentmindedly, still focused more on his phone. You could see him favoriting some of the photos he’d taken and saving them to a separate folder. “And if you are knocked up, I’ll pay to have it taken care of—but don’t expect me to cuddle you and do boyfriend shit after.”
For a moment, you restrained the urge to smack Bucky in the face with a pillow. And then you thought, why not? You weren’t his girlfriend, you didn’t need to play nice. 
So you grabbed the pillow behind your head and brought it down right on Bucky’s face. He let out a satisfying, startled ‘oomph’ sound, and you chuckled as you rolled out of bed. 
“Gee, thanks,” you shot over your shoulder sarcastically as you padded toward the bathroom, intent on cleaning Bucky’s cum from between your thighs. 
But then you had an evil thought and a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You wiped that look off your face, though, as you turned and leaned against your doorway, striking a casual pose.
“Maybe if I’m knocked up, I’ll just let John fuck me bare and tell him it’s his,” you said, giving a carefree little shrug while trying not to make it obvious how close you were watching Bucky.
You were delighted when his head snapped toward you, his gaze finally pulling away from his phone as his brows lowered into a glare. His soft mouth turned down at the corners, a furious frown darkening his face.
“D’you think John would offer to marry me?” you asked, ignoring Bucky’s reaction and tapping your chin with one finger like you were thinking. “He strikes me as the type of man who’d want to make an ‘honest woman’ out of me.” You couldn’t hold in your eye roll, even as you were trying to torture Bucky with the possibility of you marrying John fucking Walker.
In an instant, Bucky was up and off the bed, pinning you to the doorframe of your room with every inch of his big, strong body pressed against yours. You only had time to gasp while Bucky quickly gathered your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. His hardening cock was trapped against your belly, the stickiness of both your releases rubbing into your skin.
“You’re not marrying John fucking Walker, baby,” Bucky growled while he loomed over you. He was so close, you had to tilt your head back to look up at him, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. “And you’re certainly not raising my kid with Walker’s last name.” 
At that, you had to laugh. But when you saw how serious Bucky still looked, you realized he didn’t realize you were just trying to get a rise out of him. Something about the thought of you marrying John Walker had clearly made all rational thought completely abandon Bucky in that moment. 
Instead of thinking too hard about Bucky’s reaction, you explained yourself to him.
“Bucky, it was a joke,” you wheezed, giving him an incredulous look. “Of course I’m not gonna marry John.”
Bucky’s eyes flitted back and forth between yours, like he was checking to make sure you were being honest. He must’ve decided you were because he blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his forehead falling to yours. 
“Jesus, baby, you drive me fucking wild sometimes,” he rumbled, but there was humor in his tone, albeit reluctant.
A breathless laugh slipped from your lips and you leaned back against the doorframe, hiking your leg up around Bucky’s waist. He caught it in his free hand, the movement pressing his thickening cock between your thighs, making both of you groan.
“I think you should show me exactly how wild I make you,” you purred, rocking your hips against his stiff length, coating him in the mixture of your desire and his cum still leaking out of you. 
Bucky growled, his eyes flying open as he stared at you and worked his cock against your pussy. 
“Careful what you ask for, baby,” he rumbled, his tone a delicious taunt that had your toes curling against the floorboards and your hips tilting so you could rub your clit against his hard shaft. “Or you’re gonna get another load pumped into your tight, unprotected little cunt.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy,” you sassed, smirking up at Bucky and watching as his eyes darkened with desire.
In a flash, Bucky dropped your leg and let go of your wrists, spinning you around to face the doorframe and yanking your hips toward his lap with a rough, possessive grip on your body. Your upper body fell forward and your hands clung to the doorframe, nails digging into the wood when Bucky entered you in a swift, hard thrust.
Bucky fucked you in the doorway of your bedroom, making you promise yet again that you’d never let John Walker fuck you without a condom before emptying a second load inside you.
After, he followed you to the bathroom, hopping in the shower with you where he drained what little cum was left in his balls inside your pussy before helping you clean up—though you suspected he only offered to help so he could finger his cum deeper into your cunt under the pretense of cleaning you.
When you were both finally, finally sated, you collapsed into your bed together. Your mind was blissfully blank and your body deliciously sore as you cuddled together. Bucky dozed for a bit, his head on your chest while you carded your fingers through his hair and watched your show.
After a while, Bucky roused and got dressed, going out to get you the morning after pill from the nearest drug store, just like he’d said he would. 
He also brought you back your favorite sports drink and snacks, explaining in a gruff voice that he’d read the potential side effects of the pill on the box and wanted you to be prepared. You refused to feel any type of way about that.
Then Bucky kissed you and left to head home.
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All things considered, it was a good thing your new birth control had taken effect, or the morning after pill had worked, and you didn’t get pregnant despite the evening you’d had with Bucky. It was a relief when you were able to tell him that your risky night hadn’t led to any of the consequences the both of you had willfully ignored.
When you texted him to tell him you’d gotten your period, he responded quickly, messaging twice in quick succession. The first text made you roll your eyes, because you thought that was all he’d have to say. 
Good.
But then you saw the second message, and you could imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ ridiculously handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye when he’d sent it.
It made you smile, and you had to bite your lip against a giggle, forcefully reminding yourself that he was just a situationship.
Let me know when you wanna play ‘just the tip’ to ‘breed me, daddy’ again, baby.
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you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist
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elliee3e ¡ 17 days ago
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‘primal needs’
⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ logan howlett x f! reader
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thinking about logan in heat/with ruts x reader who’s ovulating … ohhh my god !!
content warnings ;
piv, size difference, heat/ruts, dubious consent but it’s very slight okay mentions of breeding kink but not really ?? it���s just cumming inside but it’s implied guys
author’s note ;
guys, i’m going through a slight writer’s block urgh . but it’s christmas & so i came up with this little idea !! merry christmas to everyone & hopefully i can also get something out before or shortly after new years <33 MWAH!
the air between you two is thick and heavy as logan’s cock stretches you to the hilt like nothing else.
the sloppy mess and smell of pure, primal driven need also clings to the air — as well as the lewd, squelching sounds of him pounding into you: pulling delicious moans from both your bodies.
even after going like this for more times than you can count, both you and logan are anything but tired. and the reason for that?
logan’s in heat. all you could feel all week was him pressing up against you, whether from behind or in front, anywhere, anytime — just trying to get some friction. and as much as it pained you to shove him away each and every time, you didn’t want to risk anything in public.
however when he gets you to himself in his room, you two are all over eachother like rabid animals. he’s biting at your neck, big hands pulling at your clothes and nearly tearing them apart; not that you cared — all you wanted was to get dicked down, as your sex drive had spiked all week too.
and logan could tell. his already heightened senses only peaked when he was in heat: causing him to sniff you out from far away even, the sweet scent of your pussy dripping for him was enough to drive him to find you no matter where you were. and when he did, best believe he’ll drag you somewhere just to toy with your pussy.
“ah, look at her. always a sloppy mess for me, ain’ she?” he’d tease, lips hovering right over your neck as his hand had started to make it’s descent to slip into your panties, fingers already dragging lazy circles over your clit.
it was always a messy combination.
even in the mornings, when logan would wake up first, he’d notice you still asleep and slot his knee between your thighs and up your little short nightdress — nudging you awake by rubbing his knee against your clit through your already damp panties. by the time you’d wake up, you’d feel his warm cock already pressing against your folds, wake up to the sight of him on top of you, his arms pressed on either side of your pillow. “this okay, doll? m’ sorry, i couldn’t wait..” he’d grunt, voice still rough and tired, but you nodded in silent agreement — needing this just as much as him and feeling as he then sunk his cock into your wet, eager walls no problem — a groan leaving both him and you.
when you would wake up first, it was a little different, as you’d find yourself spreading your thighs to get onto his with a little whine. you rocked your hips against his thigh needily, awaking the man easily. he’d wake up to feel your heat rubbing up against his thigh.
“mm.. well look at my pretty princess, grindin’ like a lil puppy all over me—..” his tired voice would finally speak up as he registered the situation in his mind, his cock already starting to strain against his boxers. it made you whine for more, as his big hand shamelessly pulled your hand onto him to palm his cock — the beginning of a morning you two knew would last all afternoon.
and when i mean anytime, anywhere, i mean it. the man’s practically a dog, a dog in heat if you may. he’s absolutely rabid when in heat and will look for any excuse to get you someplace private just to get some release.
sometimes, you feel like you can barely keep up, with the way he’s manhandling you and shifting your position so he can get the best friction on his cock — for example, you could be on your back and this man, with his godforsaken huge hands, will shamelessly turn you onto your stomach and hold your head down against the pillow, slipping into your sweet pussy from behind to slam his cock against that spot he knows has you seeing stars, from the way your words turn into jumbled whines and moans.
and from that, he could also easily turn you back over into a mating press. his favorite. he’d most likely be like that for a while, until he empties his cum into you and has you doing the same all over his cock, before sitting back and starting to pull you onto his lap to ride him for another orgasm, a repeat of all week all over again.
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garoujo ¡ 1 year ago
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !
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“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.
“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”
he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.
“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.
“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.
“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.
you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.
his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”
you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.
“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.
you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.
you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.
“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.
“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“
“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.
“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”
“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.
“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.
“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”
gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.
you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.
“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.
you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.
“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”
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Š 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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gojorgeous ¡ 1 year ago
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“heatwaves”
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pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k
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Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 
Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 
But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 
“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 
You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 
You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 
Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…
“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 
When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 
Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 
“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 
You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 
Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 
You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 
You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 
“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 
 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 
“Yes… Thank you.” 
Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”
You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 
“Take care.” 
Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 
You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 
You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?
You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?
You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  
You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 
Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 
Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.
You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 
“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 
Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 
You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”
You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 
The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 
“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 
“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 
That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”
He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 
“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 
“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.
He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 
But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 
“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 
That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 
You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”
His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”
You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.
That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 
You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”
You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 
You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 
Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 
“N-no–” 
A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 
You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 
Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 
Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 
“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 
His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 
Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 
“‘M following your scent, baby.” 
He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 
You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 
Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 
“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.
Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 
You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 
“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 
“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 
He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 
He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 
You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 
“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 
His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.
“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 
You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 
You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 
“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 
You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 
Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 
The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 
His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 
Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-
“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 
“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 
You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.
“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 
You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 
“You on birth control, baby?” 
Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…
You shake your head. “N-No…” 
There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 
There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 
“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 
Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 
“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 
His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 
“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 
“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 
Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 
Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 
You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 
Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 
“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”
You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 
“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 
His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 
You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 
His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 
You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.
It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.
You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 
His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 
Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.
His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 
His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 
A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.
There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.
His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 
Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”
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amoeganism ¡ 5 months ago
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PROJECT PARTER HCS (he wants you so bad) haikyuu
ft: aran, kita, atsumu, osamu, suna
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ATSUMU:
HES TRYING!!! but is it successful? (no)
literally cannot shut up the entire time you two meet up but it's ok because he's funny
"hey you wanna see pictures of my teammates" "yeah sure" he pulls out a blurry .5 of suna's nostrils
offers you protein bars and osamus leftovers as snacks
compliments you on literally everything
you wrote two words? he starts cheering and clapping his hands like you're shakespeare presenting a new play
loves pretending to be your strict teacher whenever commenting on your work
makes up for his lack of preparation by making you laugh and flustered
"i think you can add a little more to this part" "you look so sexy calling me dumb"
if you two meet up at a cafe he ALWAYS!!! pays for you
started off as a mistake because he asked you for your order in front of the barista
but he thought for a moment and decided you're worth an extra $5 out of his wallet
always loses his pencils but has dozens of erasers?????
SWEARS by wooden pencils. he sees a mechanical pencil and jumps 5 feet into the air and starts screaming
last few days of the project he looks constipated every time you two are together
"do you need a diaper" "I WANT YOU"
you accept his confession because you unfortunately like him back and because you want a good grade
also because you don't want him pooping his pants
ARAN:
the sweetest!!
always asks how you're doing before pulling out his notes
digital note taker 100%
loves loves loves writing with erasable pen and only uses pencils for exams
is a "let's work on everything together" kinds guy
he says it's to make sure there aren't any disagreements in content and aesthetic (he just wants to talk to you)
if you guys aren't at your house, always offers to walk you back!!!
great academically but if you're making a poster or slideshow do NOT let him decorate it... pls watch out
"does this look good!" "i'm gonna hold your hand when i tell you this..." "omg you want to hold my hand 😍"
starts giggling to himself in his head whenever you guys accidentally touch
you catch him staring at you one day and you don't know what to say so you just stare back
he thinks its so romantic
you're just confused but go along with it
after presentations you think you guys are gonna go back to being friendly classmates but he finds you after class and asks you out :)
KITA:
ACADEMIC WEAPON TEACHERS FAV EVERYONE LOVES HIM
"do you want to read my notes?" he pulls out 5 notebooks with everything color coordinated, sticky tabs, perfect handwriting, and factually correct
he can sit and work for 5 hours straight and still somehow have perfect posture
first time you asked him for help on something you were about to piss yourself because you thought he would call you stupid and send you to hell
he gave you a small smile and started walking you through it with an unmatched level of patience
that was the moment you folded and had to physically restrain yourself from grabbing his cheeks and kissing his face
always offers you tea when you come over and brings out a small tray of snacks
"are you comfortable? do you need any help?"
is suuuuper meticulous but kind with his 739273 different corrections
he swears by the sandwich method of compliment-critique-compliment
"your analysis is amazing in this section but i think you can expand a little bit after because..."
you're the one who confessed first because you thought you would explode from cuteness aggression if you didn't
and also because you thought even if he did reject you, he'd do it in the most painless way
was super happy and bursted into a bright red face but shy smile!!
still told you to go back to the assignment though...
SUNA:
menace i hate him (no i don't)
literally doesn't understand anything that's going on and probably doesn't process what you're saying at first
realizes you're serious about this assignment and forces himself to lock in
asks a BUNCH of questions and jots them down on a google doc
loves to make random conversation when you two are working
actually insane gossiper
nosiest birch you know
allergic to minding his own business that mf has shit on everyone
are you slightly scared of what he has on you? yes. do you still want to hear everything he knows? yes
"i'm taking this info from page 175 of the textbook" "got it, but did you hear that kato is trying to get with his exs best friend??"
leaves notes on your project that are both unserious and encouraging
"omg u are literally einstein"
folds origami when bored
will give you paper cranes, frogs, foxes, and cats whenever you see each other
you discovered that there's small doodles in the posts it's he uses to make them
one day there's your name and his surrounded by hearts like the corny mf he is
confronted him and it and he was just like "oh you found that? well, do you want to go out with me?"
he was NOT SLICK with the way he skipped home and whistled to himself that day after you said yes
OSAMU:
HES TRYING HIS BEST!!! (pt. 2)
can only meet up after school because of volleyball so he offers to cook for you before starting to work
takes notes in class but doesn't understand half the stuff he jots down
writes actual bullshit but half a page in decides to abandon his pride and ask you for help
leans in a little too close whenever listening to what you're saying
tries to make sure your knees are touching and that it's all an accident when your fingers brush (he prepared each scenario in his head before sleeping the night before)
down bad LOSER
spends his time doing his portion of the project while sneaking glances at you
doesn't know how to decorate presentations for the life of him so he is on doodle duty
gives surprisingly good suggestions and takes your corrections to heart
one of the best project partners because of how willing he is to learn and contribute!!! (also because he wants to impress you)
talks shit about his brother to you
atsumu has walked in while osamu was telling you an embarrassing story
they start fighting
osamu gets super embarrassed when you laugh at him
then gets overly confident when you tell him you were rooting for him
will not stop dumb smiling whenever he sees you after that
asks you out after the project is turned in with his hands in his pockets with how they're shaking so much
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butterflytint ¡ 1 year ago
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birthday boy
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Summary: how the jjk men have birthday sex (p.s. it's their bday)
Pairings: jjk men x fem!reader
Warnings: nsfw, sexual content, morning sex, missionary, oral (giving and receiving)
a/n: i wrote this a while ago for gojo’s bday but never got around to posting it…let’s pretend it’s still his bday
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Satoru Gojo
He's a light sleeper so he ends up waking up when you press a soft kiss to his forehead in the morning. With a sheepish smile, he wakes up, his eyes hardly opening.
You wish him a happy birthday, kissing his lips.
He deepens the kiss, lazily throwing an arm around you and before you know it, you’re having sex first thing in the morning.
“-Toru—I had a whole morning planned—ah—I was going to make you breakfast before I gave you your present—it’s why I woke up so early.”
His fingers dig into the flesh of your waist, his breaths shallow and his strokes deep. His blue eyes flick up to your face, watching you struggle to take his cock. He can’t help but crack a crooked smile, his snowy hair falling over his forehead.
“Baby, you’re so cute—thinking I need anything else when I’ve got you.”
The smooth talker he is, you don’t even bother arguing as he flips you over, getting on top.
He beams at you brightly before kissing your lips, “Best gift I could’ve asked for.”
Suguru Geto
He comes to pick you up for “dinner”  which is actually a surprise party you and his friends had planned. Your plans go up in smoke when he sees you in that dress he likes.
You barely make it past a “Happy Birthday” before he’s inside your apartment and shoving the door closed behind him. All the while, he wears a smug smirk, seemingly unsuspecting.
Except you know him all too well, already knowing what was going on in his head.
His lips are on yours and he’s groping at you like he’s never touched you before—or that he’ll never get the opportunity to ever again.
You giggle, “Suguru—we have to go—we have a reservation.”
“The reservation can wait,” the reservation being all your friends waiting for the birthday boy to arrive.
You don’t even argue any further before he has you pressed up against the wall, hand slithering up your thighs to drag your underwear off.
Next thing you know, he’s got your legs wrapped around his waist as he’s ploughing his cock in and out of you.
“Can’t believe you were gonna keep me waiting all night for my present.”
“I was—was gonna make you—work for—for it,” you gasp, feeling the tip of his dick prod deeper inside you.
“On my birthday, too?” he scoffs jokingly, pressing his forehead against yours. “Baby, you’re breaking my heart.”
You claw at his shoulders, gasping for air before your arms wrap around his neck. You bury your face in his shoulder, ignoring the constant notification pings coming from your expectant friends.
Kento Nanami
He’s the type of guy to go about it in a classy way.
He insists on taking you out on his birthday.
When the two of you come back home, you let him unwrap his present (you in a brand new lingerie set).
He’s very tender and gentle with you most the time but on his day, he lets YOU take care of him.
He groans as quietly as possible as you trail soft kisses down his neck, unbuttoning his shirt before kissing down his muscly chest. You work to unbuckle his pants, his eyes growing hazy with desire.
He tips his head back as you finally wrap your lips around his cock, flicking your tongue over the tip. Your hand wraps around his dick from the base, sliding it up and down his length. And he can’t help but buck his hips into your hold.
When you pull your mouth off, a desperate whimper escapes him as he flicks his gaze back down to you.
“Happy birthday, baby” you smile.
Toji Fushiguro
He has you on your back, face buried between your legs while his large hands grasping your thighs enough to bloom everlasting bruises on them.
He can’t help but grin when he pulls whine after whine from you.
Birthdays were never a big deal to him. Why should anyone care so much about getting older? It only reminded him that he was yet another year older than you.
But when you’d treat the day like it was a special occasion—getting all giddy to make him dinner and get dolled up in that lacy dress he loved, kissing him a little extra too, he was so fucking happy to have been born after all.
And no way in hell was he going to pass up the opportunity to unwrap his present after dinner.
He pulls your hands away from your face, “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, wanna hear you scream my name, baby.”
He nearly melts when you whimper, your chest heaving in heavy breaths as your eyes met his.
He lowers himself again, his fingers spreading your folds, his tongue flicking over your clit as you screamed out his name just as he asked.
“There you go, pretty girl,” he chuckles, eating you out because he prefers that over cutting a piece of damn cake on his birthday.
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ebodebo ¡ 5 months ago
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Hey, Waiter!
NSFW CONTENT
next
—you meet jason at one of bruce’s charity galas and you fuck
—jason todd x f!reader
—2.7k+
wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !
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"Honey, cross your legs."
"Honey, sit up straighter."
"Honey, we're at a gala, not a summer blowout in the Maldives."
These were just a few of the many phrases your mother chirped at you since you arrived at this stupid gala. You didn't even want to go, but your mother preached something about how, "we needed to be a united front since your father was going for reelection as a New York senator" or something like that.
It was stupid. Nobody gives a shit about familial ties; they care about your values, goals, and accolades. But there's no arguing with your mother; she's as stubborn as they come.
So, you'd sit pretty, legs crossed, with a pristine posture, biting your tongue when she says you could be sitting straighter or you could smile more. Granted, it was only a couple of hours, and if it kept your mother from turning the world around you into hell personified, you'd gladly plaster a rictus smile to appease her.
"Oh, there's Bruce!" Your mother quietly says between you and your father. "Let's go say hello," she says, gripping your hand and pulling you out of your chair, gesturing for your father to follow along.
Somewhere along the way, your parents move in front of you, sequestering you behind them. So once you all reach Bruce, he only takes notice of them, issuing a polite welcome and thanks for their attendance. Your mother swivels her head to see you tucked away behind her, bringing her hand out, gesturing for you to come in front.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne," you politely say, sticking your hand out, before introducing yourself. He grasps your hand with only a slight hesitation.
"Pardon my shock. I just haven't seen you since you were two," he confesses. You smile, pulling your hand back before your mother steps next to you and places her hand on your shoulder.
"She's grown quite a lot since then, Bruce. Still a little air-heady, but I'm hopeful the more she ages, the more my personality will rub off on her," she laughs, carefully wiping a piece of loose hair away from your face. You should feel offended, but the way her joke landed so poorly, making Bruce lightly cough the awkwardness away, made you feel pity.
"You know Selina," he says, filling in the silence, gently placing his hand on her waist as she delicately sticks her hand out for your father to shake.
Who wouldn't know Selina Kyle? She was drop-dead gorgeous but as sharp as they came. She was dressed to the nines in a designer black floor-length dress. It must have been Celine or Givenchy, so it was definitely over five thousand dollars, which is just pocket change to a guy like Bruce Wayne.
"Pleasure," she coos, pulling her hand away. Her gaze shifts to your mother, slightly narrowing her eyes. It seems your mother is oblivious to Selina's adversary towards her because she eagerly sticks her hand out, ready for Selina to shake.
"Selina. So good to see you." But, instead of shaking your mother's hand, she crossed her arms over her chest
"Mhm. I wish I could say the same," Selina sharply replied before Bruce put his hand on her shoulder in warning. You gave Selina a small smile, smothering it with your hand. She covered her own with her champagne glass as she took a sip.
"She's joking," Bruce amends, signaling for a waiter going around with glasses of alcohol. "Champagne?" He asks, reaching for two glasses from the waiter before handing them to your parents.
Before any more conversation can occur, a man calls for Bruce. "Bruce," The man says, "When do you want to start?" The man questions. Bruce picks up his arm, turning his wrist to check his watch.
"He said he'd be here by now," Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. His eyes were scanning around in search of something—rather someone. He does, however, spot Alfred, who he calls over and asks if he'd seen a guy named Jason.
"It was humorous of you to assume Master Todd would abide by your schedule, Master Wayne," Alfred remarks, his face stone-cold. Bruce checks the time on his watch again, then scans the crowd again.
"Just start the silent auction. I suppose Jason will come when he comes," Bruce suspires, clearly agitated. "See you at the auction," he chimes to you and your parents as he sticks his arm out for Selina to take.
"See you," your mother cheerfully says, though you know the cheeriness is just a facade because once Bruce and Selina walk away, your mother instantly drops the smile.
"Can you believe that woman? She was a criminal for God's-sake. She should be thankful that people like us even mingle with her." Your mother scoffs at your father. He hums along, paying relatively no mind to what she is saying.
While she goes on a tangent about how Selina is just using Bruce to get to his billions, you notice a dark figure heading toward the fire escape that you assume leads to the roof. You don't know why, but your brain is fluttering with the idea that you must follow it. So, you do just that.
"I have to use the bathroom," you interrupt, gently touching your mother's hand. You turn your head away from her, not bothering to turn back when she calls your name.
You walk around a corner to see the fire escape latch slightly ajar. Reaching out, you grasp the lever and push it out, quickly feeling the chilly Gotham air touch your cheeks.
Once your foot touches the stone with a 'clack' from your heels, you see the dark figure lying down, smoke clouding around him. He glances at you, taking a drag of his cigarette and huffing out a string of smoke.
"Didn't think pretty girls would come up here." This mystery guy's voice is deep, and judging by his figure, you can tell he's lanky.
"You know the latch and all."
"Are you calling me incompetent?" You cock a brow, hand on your hip with your purse in hand.
"No, I'm callin' you pretty," he says casually, taking another drag of his cigarette, not sparing you another glance. You hate to admit it, but this guy is pretty smooth, but you wouldn't tell him that.
"Who are you?" You ask, taking a few steps toward him and only turning your head to look at the night sky, which is aglow with billions of little stars. You see all the high-rise buildings, light illuminating the dark streets. It's a shame Gotham is so corrupt and unlawful.
"I should be askin' you that, seeing as you’re on my roof," he tentatively says. You can just feel the smugness in his tone, making you roll your eyes.
"You're a Wayne?" You question, arms crossed, slowly stepping closer to him.
"Somethin' like that I guess," he shrugs, which makes you let out a light laugh.
"You guess? You don't know your own family lineage?" You joke, moving to sit not completely next to him but close enough that you could feel the smoke in your nose. You could also see the outline of his face—strong jaw, pretty eyes, fluttery lashes, and nice lips.
"Why are you so curious?" He glances at you with a sly smirk on his lips. You look at him, then at the cigarette in between his fingers.
"You know smoking kills," you inform, pointing towards the cigarette. He lays his head back on the roof, his lips curving into a smirk before retaking another drag.
"You know what else kills? Poking your head around where you don't belong," he puffs out the smoke as he speaks. You turn your head away from him, trying to conceal your smile. This guy is something else, you think.
"Jason," he adds.
Your eyes widen, and your lips quirk. "Ah, you're Jason." You drag out the 'you're,' getting Jason to turn his head towards you. An inquisitive look is plastered on his face.
"So you've heard of me?" He cockily says.
"I know enough about you to know you're flakey," you raise a brow. He lets out a soft laugh.
"Mr. Wayne was looking for you, and so was everyone else," you clarify.
"Oh, please don't tell on me," he fake pleads, clearly being sarcastic. "Especially to Mr. Wayne."
You roll your eyes, though your lips threaten to smile. "I'm sensing some sarcasm."
"Well, aren't you just a modern-day Poirot.”
You widen your eyes, raising your hands. "Wait, wait. You read classic literature?" You gawk, hand coming to your chest.
"I dabble," he shrugs nonchalantly. You eye him, lip quirking.
"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" You say, holding your two fingers out, gesturing to his cigarette. "Let me take a puff," you insist.
"Ah, ah," he tuts. "What happened to 'smoking kills?'" He raises a brow, taking a puff of the cigarette himself.
"Sue me, but I'm curious," you shrug. He eyes you, wondering if you're joking. He gives you his cigarette anyway. You take a long drag, feeling the smoke cloud your lungs.
"Easy, easy," Jason warns. "Don't take too much, or you'll—" Before he can finish, you start violently coughing, feeling your eyes well up with tears. "Cough," he finishes, taking the cigarette from your hand as you go to cover your mouth.
"You like this shit?" You say through harsh coughs.
"You get used to it," he answers, not paying attention to the question. He's more concerned about you. "You okay?" His tone isn't condescending—it carries empathy.
"Ya, ya. Took too much," you shyly smile, hiccuping a little, turning your head to look directly at him. He laughs lowly. His laugh is deep and gravelly but still sounds kind. You gulp. God, were you getting turned on by a laugh?
You were facing him head-on, and even in the shitty lighting, you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes slowly drift down his face, falling on his lips. He had stuck his tongue on his lips to wet them, giving them a glistening sheen.
"Are you thinkin' about me?" His voice is dry. You sharply move your eyes to bore into his, sticking your tongue out to wet the seam of your own lips.
"And what if I am?" You challenge. Suddenly, you can feel your own heartbeat, and your hands are clammy. You can see the gears in his brain working, trying to figure you out.
"Well, are you?" He asks roughly, putting his cigarette out on the roof. You search his eyes, gently biting your lip. His eyes follow you the whole time.
"Guess," you quipped. You hadn't realized you had scooted closer to him, close enough to where he could if he wanted to touch you. This little banter you guys had was getting you wetter by the minute. It was odd. You'd never even met this guy, but you would let him kiss you, maybe even more.
His gaze drifts from your eyes to your lips. "If I were to put my hand under your dress, what would I find?" He gruffly says. Your eyes drift back to his lips, and you bite your own as your chest rises and falls rapidly.
"What would I find?" He urges a little more assertively this time. You rapidly avert your eyes back to him, taking note of the blue hue in his eyes, which has seemingly grown darker.
"Maybe you should find out, Jason," you encourage. Once you give him the go, he's quick to move closer, crushing his lips to yours roughly. It was unlike anything you've ever felt before—like a ton of dynamite just erupted in you, leaving you feeling a buzz on your skin.
You reached up to grab the back of his neck, pushing him further on your lips. He groans as you sink one of your hands into his hair, gripping your waist in his hands and pulling you so you straddle his lap.
"Do you hook up with every girl you just meet?" You murmur into his lips, slipping your tongue between the seam of his moist lips.
"You hook up with every guy you just meet?" He imitates, in between breaths, gripping your waist tighter as you tug on the roots of his hair harder.
"TouchÊ," you whisper, breathing labored as he presses deep kisses down your neck. He works his way down until he is kissing the top of your breast. Slowly, he brings his hands up to slip the strap of your dress down, exposing your breasts.
He kisses a straight line down the top of your breast to your sensitive nipple. His mouth is hot on your skin, especially in a place so sensitive. You moan as his mouth fully encompasses your nipple, lightly sucking, sending goosebumps down your skin.
You reach for his tie, grab it with your hand, hurriedly untie it, and throw it to the side before carefully undoing the few buttons on his jacket.
"It's a shame no one got to see your suit," you murmur as Jason returns his lips to yours, pressing feverish kisses into them before slipping his tongue into your mouth.
"Ya? Why's that?" He mumbles against your lips, as his hands fumble with his zipper trying to pull it down. You slid the jacket off of Jason's shoulder.
"Because you look fucking hot," you say, looking into his eyes, noticing the way his pupils dilate, hunger written all over his face. He quickly slips his slacks down, along with his boxers. Fumbling with the pocket of his jacket, he grabs a condom.
"Really?" You scowl, as he rips open the gold packaging with his teeth, slipping it on himself.
"What? Don't give me that look," he urges, pooling your dress up around your waist, sliding your panties to the side, as he guides the head of his cock inside your glistening cunt.
"Don't act like it didn't come in handy," he appeals as his cock slips inside you easily. You both groan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.
"Fuck, you were wet. Just slipped right in," he grits as you rock yourself against him, desperate for more friction. His hand is in your hair, pushing your face towards his to share messy, hot kisses as his other hand helps you set a pleasurable pace.
You throw your head back as he thrusts into you, eliciting a moan from you. "Fuck, Jason," you mewl as you feel his lips back on your breast, sucking and nipping with his teeth. Your hands grip tighter in his hair, hoping this will give you some kind of stability.
"Feels so good. So fuckin' good," Jason groans as he feels you clamp around him. You press your lips back to his, aching to feel the vibrations of his groans against your face. He grips the sides of your face to deepen the kiss, his teeth clashing with your own.
You continue going up and down on his cock, occasionally he thrusts himself into you to satisfy his urges and lets you grind against him to chase your own high. He takes your nipple into his mouth one last time before you moan so loud you're surprised the Gotham City Police isn't called, and Jason is spewing curses and groans as you both come.
Your bodies are both buzzing and twitching. Chests heaving so heavily you're suprised your hearts didn't just bust straight out of your chests. Jason pulls out once you aren't panting as hard, guiding you off his cock as you fix your dress. He slips the condom off, groaning at the touch, before tying it at the end. Then, he slips his jacket back on along with his slacks.
You haphazardly stand, holding onto Jason's shoulder to keep your balance. Once you gain stability, you awkwardly cough out a bye, unsure on how to make this any less weird and head back towards the fire escape. You only turn when you hear him say something. Turning on your heels, you look back at him, still in the same spot.
"I, uh, never caught your name?" He yells, his hand scratching the back of his neck.
"Didn't throw it, Jason," you shout back, making a lopsided smile grow on his face. Then, turning to go back through the fire escape, you catch a smile spread across your face as well.
Maybe being forced to attend one of Bruce Wayne's galas wasn't so bad.
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a/n: jason todd = thought daughter
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
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osaemu ¡ 1 year ago
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you and him kiss—a lot—while the stream's still going, but neither of you notice
contents: fem!reader. pda written by someone who doesn't particularly like pda. gets a little suggestive around the end. inumaki tells satoru 'kys' multiple times. not proofread.
author's note: kissin' and hope they caught us, whether they like or not, i wanna show you off, i wanna show you offff
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"i swear you guys are really out to get me," satoru groans, addressing the flood of comments filling up his chatbox. he spins around in his chair, tilting his head back and exhaling when he stops. you watch him shake his hair out of his eyes and grin at the camera, just like he does every time he's getting ready to end the stream.
"okay, guys, that's enough, i gotta go," satoru says, right on cue. he partially turns around and shoots a rueful smile your way, taking a quick moment to admire the way you look all cozied up on his couch. and it's only an added bonus that you're even wearing his hoodie—the same one he wore on your first date.
turning back to the screen, satoru stretches his arms and waves. "see ya tomorrow, can't wait. except for you, toji, and inumaki too. fuck you guys," he adds, snorting when he sees their replies just a moment later.
inumaki: kys!!!
inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.
"aw, and we were almost about to set a new streak of one day without me kicking inumaki," satoru sighs, shaking his head dramatically. "maybe one day we'll even make it to two streams, but i think that'll take a couple centuries." satoru laughs and waves offhandedly, clicking the 'x' in the corner of his stream to end it.
he switches tabs to go back to his previous game's stats and turns around again, spinning his chair to face you. satoru opens his arms and beckons you with both his hands, a puppy-like shine in his eyes. "c'mere, lemme hold you for a little," he says, smiling wider when you begrudgingly get up from your spot on his couch.
"i was so comfy," you mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself as you walk over to satoru. if his stream was still on, you'd probably be on camera now.
"i'll make you even comfier," satoru insists, grabbing your hand and tugging you into his lap. his arms snake around your waist and hold you snugly against his chest, hands slipping into the pockets of your hoodie. "you look so cute, wearin' my hoodie like that," he smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately.
"satoru, your lips are cold," you grumble, leaning away from his mouth—but you don't put that much distance between you two, considering his snug grip on your torso. satoru ignores your protests and kisses you again, peppering kisses all over the side of your face.
"you're so—fuckin'—cute," satoru murmurs, punctuating each word with a kiss. his lips are soft and you can feel them warm up a little more with each press to your cheek. his minty breath tickles your face as he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, decorating your face with his lips.
"what's the occasion?" you ask tentatively, looking at satoru's blushing face out of the corner of your eye. he tilts his head and shrugs, and you feel his chest rise and fall as he does so.
"do i need an excuse to kiss my girlfriend?" satoru replies cheekily, rubbing your tummy through the pockets of your hoodie. "my hands are cold, baby, wanna warm them up?"
"huh—"
satoru doesn't wait for an answer before he tugs your hands into your pockets with his, hiding a smile at the little indignant sound you make. "you're so cute, i just wanna eat you up," satoru mumbles, scrunching up his nose. his white hair falls into his eyes for the thousandth time, and he blows out a puff of air in an attempt to clear up his vision. it doesn't work—his hair just falls right back into his eyes.
so you extract your hands from where they're clasped in between satoru's and brush back his hair, fingertips lingering on the sides of his face. he turns his head and presses his lips to the palm of one of your hands, cold lips curling into a smile at the cat-like look on your face.
"how was the stream today?" you ask, leaning into his chest. satoru shrugs again, kissing the top of your head.
"fine, i won a couple rounds," satoru says indifferently. his attention is on you, only you—right now, his stream and his games are at the back of his mind. "don't change the subject, baby."
you huff in disbelief, nudging your elbow against his chest. "what even was the subject?"
"me wanting to eat you up," satoru replies instantly. he grins playfully, hugging you tighter and burying his face in your hair. "c'mon, you know you wanna—"
the flickering red dot in the top-right corner of his screen catches your eye, and you practically flinch out of his arms. satoru looks at you, confusion evident on every part of his face. "what is it, baby?"
you groan and lean away from him and closer to his table, dragging the mouse over to one of his tabs and clicking it open. and just like that, satoru realizes that this entire time you've been live. to thousands of people. for five whole minutes.
"oops," satoru says with a sheepish smile, scratching his head bashfully. you turn and shoot a venomous look at him, and he laughs nervously. "oh, uh, that's my bad, honey—"
"you're dead," you mutter, grinning when satoru shrinks back into his chair. satoru swallows and gives you a thumbs-up, gently nudging you out of the way to check the comments.
yuuji-itadori: aw they're so cute together :)
toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better
inumaki: how does this loser have more streams than me. kys kys kys!!!!!
inumaki has been banned from the stream by satoru-gojo.
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retrosabers ¡ 3 months ago
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄.
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logan howlett x fem! reader
summary: logan’s possessive side makes an appearance after he sees you with a stranger at the bar
contains: smut content below the cut. MINORS DNI. penetration (p in v), hickies (fem receiving), sex in a public place, swearing, a bit of possessive!logan , kinda rushed ending
word count: 1.6k
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“logan slow down!” you squeal, trailing behind your boyfriend as he drags you down the hallway to the bathroom. you don’t miss the way wade wiggles his eyebrows at the two of you from the table on the other side of the room, making a rather lewd motion with his hand and mouth.
“grab your vibrators ladies, gents, and gender non conforming sluts,” he whispers to god only knows who. “this is gonna get good.”
you have to wrap your other hand around his bicep to steady yourself, nearly tripping over your own feet as you finally approach the dingy restroom back in the deepest corner of the bar. logan doesn’t spare you a glance over his shoulder as he fumbles with the doorknob, muttering curses under his breath.
another flustered sound leaves your mouth as he ushers you inside, his large hands pushing into your ass with a fervor that you’ve never seen outside of the bedroom.
as soon as the lock clicks behind him, your body gets pressed up against the door, logan crowding your space with dark eyes and bared teeth.
the green eyed monster did always tend to bring out the animal in him.
in an instant, his mouth is on yours. tongue prodding between your lips with such intensity it already has your knees wobbling. he devours your mouth like it’s his god given right, the taste of whiskey and tobacco a familiar flavor that makes your brain feel fuzzy.
he was consuming all your senses. calloused palms rubbing over the expanse of your exposed skin, mouth moving synchronously with your own all the while the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing.
all you could think about was logan, logan, logan. just how he wanted. and he hadn’t even managed to touch you properly yet.
his lips and hands move in tandem as wet sloppy kisses trail down the column of your throat. the breathy “fuck” that you let out only makes his cock strain harder against the tight denim.
“don’t fuckin’ like the way that guy was lookin’ at you,” logan groans between kisses, his voice somehow even deeper than normal. it sends a new wave of excitement down your spine, the dampness between your legs growing at the thought of what was to come.
logan was always insatiable. but when he was jealous, when he was borderline possessive? you could let him have his way with you whenever and wherever he so pleased.
“doesn’t matter,” you counter weakly. “m’yours logan. and he knows that.”
he chuckles darkly against your skin. a sound that has you clenching around nothing.
“oh, but i don’t think he does sweetheart,” logan coos before beginning to suck on your earlobe. the moan you let out feels like music to his ears. and he intends on making sure everyone can hear your sweet symphony.
“think that prick may need a reminder to not touch things that aren’t his.”
this whole ordeal started when an old friend spotted you waiting at the bar for drinks. it was nothing more than casual conversation, a friendly game of catch up that was completely harmless.
until logan saw another man’s hand squeeze your shoulder.
he didn’t need to know what the reason was, even if it was only a polite and fleeting thing. because despite the green he felt inside, all he could see was red.
so he decided instead of breaking out the claws and causing an unwanted scene, he would have to let his anger out in another way instead.
you instinctually spread your legs as logan slots himself between them, the heavy weight of his hard cock maddening against your clothed cunt. a gasp escapes both of you at the contact, the air in the small room growing hotter and heavier as the tension intensified.
logan didn’t need to feel you to know you were dripping. fuck, he could smell it, caught a whiff of your arousal before you probably even knew it was there. but he’s nothing if not cocky when it comes to you, and he traces his rough fingertips up the warm skin of your inner thighs anyway. he stops right at the crease between your pelvis and thigh, dangerously close to where you need him most.
“did he do that?” logan snarls, snaking his thumb under the hem of your panties. he begins rubbing featherlight circles against your clit, satisfied to find you absolutely soaked.
you shake your head briskly, reveling in the small touch. “s’all you logan.”
“damn fuckin’ right it is.”
you whine as he yanks his hand away from you, only to hurriedly unclasp his belt in one swift motion. it sends another wave of heat down to your core, and your hips jerk forward on instinct as he quickly pulls his cock out from the confines of his bottoms.
“m’gonna make sure that motherfucker knows,” he whispers low and throaty in your ear, giving himself a few quick strokes before lining up with your entrance. “y’gonna let me?”
your breathy “please” is permission enough, and logan slams his length inside you without warning. you were so wet already that he didn’t need to take his time prepping you with his mouth or fingers, his domineering nature enough to have you slick and ready for the taking.
logan doesn’t waste any time, already working up to a steady pace as his hands palm at the globes of your ass, guiding you to bounce on his length. it knocks the air out of your lungs, moans and whimpers pouring from your lips at a rather embarrassing volume. but when you try to quiet yourself, logan isn’t having it.
“uh-uh honey,” he growls, his hot breath fanning your cheek. “let me hear you.”
and you were always one to obey his commands.
logan moves you up and down his cock at the same time he cants his hips into you, arching your back at just the right angle that makes you sing with no control. your head is thrown back in ecstasy at the feeling, baring your neck to your boyfriend.
there’s some extra skin exposed tonight. you’re wearing that one low cut top that always drove him crazy, showing off your collarbones and a bit of cleavage. it made you look delectable, even more than normal.
logan’s anger boils once more at the thought of some other guy wanting you like this. thinking he had a fucking sliver of a chance with you. it stirs the primal nature that sits buried inside him, something that only reveals itself in pure lust driven moments like these.
he needs to stake his claim. in any and every way possible.
when logan’s mouth attaches to your jugular, you whine in content. he always knew your sweet spots. how much pressure to apply and where to get you clamping around him in record time. a spark of confusion rises in you as logan slowly drags his teeth up and down the column of your throat, ebbing an all new electricity in your core.
you’re not prepared for the sensations that follow.
the assault logan performs on your neck will likely have you wearing turtlenecks and scarves for at least a week. but it feels so euphoric you can’t be bothered to care. he alternates between harsh suction and gentle caresses of the tongue, almost soothing you from his handiwork. he paints your delicate skin with lilac marks that will soon develop into shades of plum. a masterpiece on his muse.
each graze of his canines against your neck is accompanied with a thrust that hits a spot deep in you. so far in it feels as though he’s in your entire body, completely consuming you from the inside out.
“fuck, logan,” you moan unabashedly, your nails digging harshly into the fabric of his white t-shirt. the sound of his name leaving your lips only spurs him on, angling his hips with a particularly deep stroke that has you seeing stars.
“that’s right,” he sneers smugly. his grip on you tightens as he stares back at the blossoming bruises with satisfaction. “i gotcha.”
you can feel the tension growing in your abdomen. a sign of your approaching release. logan can sense it too, and he’s determined to make you fall apart.
he takes control, smushing your body against the door and pistoning up into your cunt. one hand remains securely around your hip while the other snakes between your legs, his thumb finding your clit with ease.
the pressure of the harsh circles he rubs against you coupled with the pace of his movements bring you dangerously close to the edge, a high pitched mixture of whimpers and logan’s name falling from your lips like a mantra.
he licks a long stripe up your neck, savoring the saltiness of the sweat coating your skin.
“come on sweetheart,” logan murmurs in your ear, a rather sweet contrast to how roughly he’s fucking into you. “cum for me.”
the dichotomy is what makes the tension snap, a loud cry leaving you as your orgasm washes over every inch of your body. you preen in logan’s hold, thankful for the enhanced strength that prevents his motions from faltering.
your warm walls clenching around him felt like heaven, a paradise he never wants to leave. he fucks you through the journey to his own climax, waves of overstimulation pricking at your skin.
“so fuckin’ pretty when you cum,” logan grunts, chasing his high. he punctuates every word with a deep thrust before finally coating your insides with his release.
“and all. fuckin’. mine.”
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thanks for reading! <3
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tainsan ¡ 1 year ago
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opposites attract.
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↳synopsis: you are on the verge of being expelled, so your teacher helps you find a tutor, yet what you weren't expecting was much more than just tutoring sessions.
↳ word count: 14.3k
↳ a/n: i know this isnt misfits or misfits related but i wanted to give you guys something whilst you wait for the next chapter. i havent been active due to a majot burnout, but im getting into the swing of it again. I hope you enjoy this one shot whilst you wait for the next chapter <3
↳ warnings: fem bodied reader, mentions of alcohol, explicit smut, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected sex (wrap it pls), gn pronouns but Yunho calls reader a good girl.
MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT AHEAD
"Expelled, what do you mean?" you exclaim, the words of your professor hitting you like a sudden, unwelcome storm.
Your professor leans forward, her expression grave. "If you don’t make a change," she replies, her tone weighted with concern. "Your recent academic performance has been far from ideal, and it's no secret that you'd rather be out partying and socialising than studying. I've tried to advocate for you for the past few months, but even the student council is beginning to lose faith. You need to make a change, or else they will remove you from this program."
The news leaves you feeling torn. You have always been drawn to the vibrant social scene on campus, and it was no secret that you enjoy a good party. Balancing your studies with your social life has been a constant struggle, and it has finally caught up with you in the form of this dire warning.
Taking a deep breath, you try to gather your thoughts, your mind a whirlwind of confusion. "I don't know what to do, though," you admit, your voice tinged with both desperation and uncertainty.
Professor Turner fixes her gaze on you, her expression stern yet caring. Her half-moon glasses perch on the edge of her nose lends an air of wisdom to her appearance. She had always been one of the few teachers who genuinely believed in your potential, even if you hadn't quite lived up to it yet. 
She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours. "You can start by addressing that persistent partying issue," she says, her tone deadpan but not without a hint of exasperation. "I've always seen your talent, but it's time for you to believe in it too. My patience for you is wearing thin, and the threat of expulsion is very real. You need to get your studies together, and fast."
Her words strike a chord, and bow your head down, tears starting to form in your eyes. The urgency of the situation finally sinks in, and you know it is time to make a change. 
Professor Turner's expression softens, and she leans back in her chair, understanding the turmoil in your eyes. "I know it can be challenging to balance both, but it's essential. Perhaps you can establish a more structured study schedule and limit your social activities during the week.”
Looking up at her, you notice the warmth and unwavering belief in her eyes, which provides a glimmer of hope amidst your uncertainty. 
She continues, "In fact, I found a tutor for you. Someone had to cancel on him at the last minute, and he's willing to take you on until your grades improve. He’s an incredibly sweet person, his grades are the best in my class."
Although you would rather avoid any study sessions or anything to do with your university academics, you reluctantly take the paper showcasing the number of the tutor your professor found for you. The paper displays the name "Jeong Yunho" along with his contact number. You have never heard of him before, which was unusual considering you considered yourself as a social butterfly who knew nearly everyone on campus. It occurred to you that there truly was a first time for everything.
As you held the paper, a sense of curiosity overcame your reluctance. You pondered the mystery behind this unknown tutor and wondered what kind of person Jeong Yunho was. 
—
Clutching your bag tightly under your arm, you reluctantly made your way towards the library on a Friday evening. With every step, you grumbled to yourself, yearning to be at a lively party instead, drowning your sorrows about the looming threat of expulsion. The future seemed bleak, and hope was a distant memory. When you left Professor Turner's office earlier, you almost crumpled the paper she had given you, fully intent on disregarding any contact with whoever the hell Yunho is.
The journey to the library is slow, partly because you have never set foot in the place before, and partly due to your resistance against the impending academic endeavour. You had never planned on being a library regular; it wasn't part of your college vision. Yet, the harsh reality of the potential consequences weigh heavily on your mind. Losing your education at this point would not only set you back years but also jeopardise all the hard work you have invested to even make it to this esteemed school in the first place.
With every reluctant step, you can’t help but reflect on the choices that have led you here. It was time to face the music, find this enigmatic Yunho, and see if, against all odds, he held the key to salvaging your academic future. 
Pushing open the heavy wooden doors of the university library, you're immediately greeted by the familiar scent of aged books and hushed whispers. The soft lighting casts a warm glow over the rows of shelves filled with knowledge, and you can't help but feel out of place in this quiet atmosphere. You've rarely ventured into this sanctuary of academia, and your lack of familiarity is evident as you scan the cavernous space, unsure of where to start
Stepping further into the library, your frustration and reluctance grow. You have little idea of who you're even looking for. The notion that Yunho might be some stereotypical "nerd-looking" guy briefly crosses your mind, and you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for the shallow assumption.
After several minutes of wandering the labyrinthine aisles, you find yourself standing in the centre of the library, defeated and ready to give up on this wild goose chase. You can't even muster the energy to be disappointed; you're too focused on your own internal battle between academic responsibilities and your desire for the social scene.
Just as you turn to head for the exit, your hasty retreat is halted by an unexpected and rather forceful collision. You practically bump into a broad, solid chest that seemingly appears out of nowhere. Startled, you stagger back a step, nearly dropping the papers that you have clenched in your hand.
Looking up, you're met with the sight of a tall man, much taller than you. The first thing you notice is his thick black-framed glasses perched on his nose, giving him a rather studious appearance. However, his eyes sparkle with warmth and curiosity, and his friendly, wide smile catches you off guard.
"I'm sorry," you stammer, feeling flustered by the unexpected encounter.
The man's voice is deep and soothing and light-hearted as he replies, "No need to apologise. Are you looking for someone, or can I help you find a book or something?"
You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should reveal your purpose in the library. But the kindness in his eyes and the genuine desire to assist make you decide to share. "Actually, I'm trying to find someone named Yunho. I was told he could help me with my studies."
His smile widens, his eyes scrunching in the process, and he extends a hand in greeting. "Yunho, at your service. It's nice to meet you."
You shake his hand, feeling a mix of surprise and relief. Yunho is not what you had expected, and the moment you assumed he'd be a stereotypical "nerd" is now a distant memory. As you look into his friendly eyes, a sense of hope and optimism begins to replace the frustration and doubt that had plagued you earlier.
"You're Yunho?" you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice, as he begins to lead you towards where it appears he was sitting.
"Yes, is it hard to believe?" Yunho responds, a slight nervousness in his tone. "I can get my ID out if you're sceptical." He quickly reaches into his pocket, his ears turning a shade of red as he rushes to grab his ID.
Hastily, you halt him, not wanting to put him through the trouble of proving his identity. Silently, you smile to yourself, he is sweet.
You and Yunho take a seat at a quiet corner table within the library, and you find yourself fidgeting with unease in your chair. Yunho, observant of your discomfort, wisely refrains from commenting, valuing your need for privacy.
"Alright," Yunho began, adjusting his glasses with a hint of nervousness in his demeanour. He reaches into his bag, carefully pulling out two well-worn textbooks and a stack of papers, placing them on the table in front of you. 
"I wasn't entirely sure which topics you needed help with, so I brought materials for all five modules you're studying this semester."
You examine the books, their covers showing the marks of countless readers who had delved into their pages. 
"Are these your books?" you inquire, surprised by the thoughtfulness he has put into his preparation.
Yunho shakes his head, his cheeks flushing slightly as he admits, "No, I borrowed them from the library. Microbiology isn't my field of study."
Your disbelief is evident as you fix your gaze on him. The rosy hue on his cheeks deepens as he fiddles with the sleeves of his oversized sweater and adjusts his glasses nervously. "You don't study microbiology?" you ask, genuinely surprised.
"No," Yunho confesses, his embarrassment now fully on display. "I just study it as a hobby."
You can’t help but be impressed by his dedication and the sheer audacity of teaching a subject purely out of passion. 
"That's impressive," you state. You were well aware that to tutor a subject officially, one typically needed to pass a test administered by the school, certifying one's proficiency. The fact that Yunho was willing to help without any formal obligation was both admirable and unexpected.
Curiosity gets the better of you, you inquire, "What else do you tutor?"
Yunho hesitates for a moment, his fingers still absently adjusting his glasses. "Um, history, algebra, and applied sciences," he finally reveals, his modesty and shyness contrasting with his evident knowledge.
As you listened to him speak, you found yourself captivated not only by his academic prowess but also by the way he wore his thick glasses and his endearing shyness. Yunho was turning out to be a surprising and impressive individual, and you couldn't help but feel a growing fascination with the person who had just entered your academic world.
“So how much do you know about Microbiology?” Yunho questions, thinning through some of the papers in front of him.
“Uh, the basics I guess.” you mumble, your knowledge not the best seeing as you have missed many lectures the past few months.
Yunho's gaze meets yours, and you sense him observing your unease as his eyes traverse your form. 
With a soft tone, he reassures you, "it’s okay, you can be honest. I'm here to help you, so you have to be honest. Then I can help you in the best way possible.” 
For a fleeting moment, his words touch your heart, a warmth spreading within. Yet, you quickly suppress the feeling, reminding yourself that there is no time for such emotions in your busy life.
“I’ve forgotten a lot, to be honest.” 
“That’s okay, we will start with the basics today, to refresh your memory.” 
Under the soft glow of the study lamps in your cosy corner of the library, Yunho begins to unravel the basics. The excitement in his eyes was unmistakable, his passion for the subject evident with every word he spoke.
"Alright," he begins, tracing his finger along the pages filled with complex diagrams and scientific jargon. "As you likely already know, microbiology is the study of tiny organisms, like bacteria, viruses, and fungi. These microorganisms are everywhere, and they play a crucial role in our lives, from the food we eat to the diseases we encounter."
Yunho's explanation is clear and concise, making sure to break down complex ideas into easily digestible pieces. 
He continues, "Uhh, the basics: the three main types of microorganisms. First, there are bacteria. They're single-celled organisms that can be both good and bad. Some bacteria help with digestion in your gut, while others can cause diseases."
You nod along, your memory starting to be refreshed. Yunho's enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself getting more and more interested in the subject.
He flips to a page with colourful illustrations of various microorganisms. "Then there are viruses, which are even smaller than bacteria. They're not considered living because they can't reproduce on their own. Instead, they need a host cell to replicate. Viruses are responsible for many illnesses, like the flu or COVID."
You absorb the information, appreciating how Yunho made the complex concept of viruses relatable. "And the third type?" you prompt.
"Ah, fungi," Yunho smiles. "Fungi are more complex microorganisms. They can be beneficial, like the yeast used in baking bread, or harmful, causing infections like athlete's foot. They're known for their unique cell structure and reproduction methods."
Whilst he explains, he encourages you to ask questions, making sure you are following along. The library's serene ambiance, coupled with Yunho's patient teaching, created a comfortable learning atmosphere. He didn't rush, taking his time to make sure you grasped each concept before moving on.
He continued to cover the basics of microbiology, including the significance of studying these microorganisms, their role in medicine, agriculture, and environmental science. Yunho's passion for the subject was evident in the way he animatedly discussed the various branches of microbiology, from medical microbiology to environmental microbiology, each with its unique focus and importance.
In the quiet of the library, during this unexpected first study session, you find yourself lost in thought. This wasn't how you had imagined it would go, and you can’t help but be impressed and thankful for Yunho's extraordinary patience and intelligence. 
You had initially expected a conventional tutoring experience, but Yunho has proven to be so much more. His explanations were crystal clear, his passion for the subject contagious, and his willingness to help you with genuine enthusiasm is striking. He isn’t just a smart individual; he is a rare combination of intelligence and empathy.
You marvel at the fact that he wasn't the stereotypical snobby, know-it-all type who might look down on your abilities. Instead, Yunho is an embodiment of understanding and non-judgment. As he continues to make the complex subject of microbiology comprehensible, you can’t help but feel immense gratitude.
The study session with Yunho nears its end and you find yourself in a much different frame of mind than when you had started. Initially apprehensive about having a tutor, you have been pleasantly surprised by the experience. Your worries have somewhat melted away, replaced by a growing sense of confidence and gratitude.
Yunho, having covered a significant portion of the microbiology basics, closes the textbook with a satisfied smile. "I think we've made some good progress today," he says. "But there is still a lot we have to cover before exams next month. I expect to see you every Wednesday and Friday until then." Yunho attempts a stern voice, jokingly pointing his finger at you.
You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Yes sir.” you salute him, acting back on his funny actions. 
Gathering your belongings, you prepare to leave the library, yet Yunho surprises you with a genuine offer. 
"If you ever have questions or need further assistance, don't hesitate to reach out. I'm here to help, and I enjoy teaching. We can meet on more days if you need."
You smile at the sincerity in his voice, “that’s okay, Yunho.” you say before turning towards the exit.
Walking out of the library, a lightness seems to settle upon your chest, replacing the initial apprehension with a sense of accomplishment. Glancing at your phone, you note that it is only ten in the evening. This realisation fills you with a newfound sense of freedom and opportunity.
With a contented smile, you contemplate the evening unfolding before you. The memory of the house party, just a short walk down the road, initially seemed distant due to your earlier commitment to the study session with Yunho. Despite knowing that you should be heading home to review your notes, a mischievous thought crept into your mind – what Yunho didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
A sly smirk plays on your lips as you begin to make your way toward the house party. You can’t deny the allure of a night filled with fun and perhaps a little indulgence. Yet, as you take your first steps, a fleeting moment of hesitation overcomes you. You pause, reflecting on the considerable effort Yunho had put into helping you today.
It is a big realisation. Few, if any, have ever invested so much time and effort in your growth and success. Your heart warms for a brief second at the thought, but just as quickly, you push aside those emotions. You have your reasons – a past that still haunted you, and the fear of getting your heart broken once more. You can’t afford to be vulnerable.
Despite your better judgement, you continue your journey to the house party, determined to enjoy the night to the fullest. 
Unbeknownst to you, though, Yunho's presence would linger in your thoughts throughout the night.
—
Several weeks have passed since the start of your study sessions with Yunho, and it has been quite the transformative period. Initially, you had been reluctant to engage in any additional study outside of your scheduled sessions with him. But over time, Yunho's presence had become a reassuring constant in your life, offering a sense of peace and support that you couldn't quite admit to yourself.
During the past couple of weeks, you found yourself increasingly immersed in your books and studies, even sometimes choosing academic pursuits over the lively parties that your large, party-loving friend group frequented. 
The shift in your priorities had not gone unnoticed by your friends, who seemed disheartened by your withdrawal from their activities. A residue of guilt clings to you every time you opted to hit the books rather than attend a party. Your ‘friends’ have grown vocal about it, casting you as a bore and a waste of time, berating you for supposedly losing your popularity.
Amid this turmoil, your study sessions with Yunho had become a sanctuary, a refuge from the social pressure and expectations. What you didn't fully realise was the profound positive impact these sessions were having on you, not just academically but also in terms of your personal growth.
Just a few days ago, you faced your first exam since you had started your sessions with Yunho and today you are receiving the results. You are well aware that if you do not pass this, it is not a huge deal seeing as it is not a final exam. Yet you do need to prove yourself to the student council by at least getting a D. 
The anticipation is palpable in Professor Turner's classroom, the air thick with nervous energy. She stands at the front of the room, clutching a stack of papers that hold the results of the previous week's exam. Your heart races as you sit there, your anxiety mounting with each passing moment.
Whilst Professor Turner begins to distribute the grades, your palms grow clammy, and your heart races even faster. 
As Professor Turner finally reaches your desk, she hands you the paper with a warm smile that holds an underlying pride. In the corner of the sheet, a vibrant red 'C' was marked. It isn’t the highest grade in the class, but at this moment, it feels like a monumental achievement.
A sense of accomplishment washes over you like a warm wave, as you realise that all the effort, Yunho's unwavering support, and Professor Turner's belief in you is beginning to pay off. 
You cannot wait to let Yunho know about the news.
The campus courtyard was alive with activity as students milled about, enjoying the pleasant weather and the break from their studies. Among the various clusters of friends, you spot Yunho, standing with a small group of his own. His friends seem to be engaged in an animated conversation, their voices and laughter filling the air. 
You observe Yunho for a brief moment, his expression appearing neutral as he attentively listens to his friend's conversation. Your gaze then drifts down to the sight of Yunho pulling up the sleeves of his knitted sweater, revealing his unexpectedly well-defined forearms. The contrast between his baggy clothing and his toned physique momentarily catches you off guard.
But as you approach, your excitement is impossible to contain, the momentary thought of how toned Yunho is elsewhere leaves your mind. Your heart races, and you feel a surge of joy within you. The sense of accomplishment overwhelms you, and you can’t wait to share the news with Yunho, regardless of the audience.
Without hesitation, you stride purposefully toward him, determination etched across your face. The moment you reach him, you suddenly feel a little small under the eyes of his friends who seem to have noticed you approaching.
“Yunho,” you say gently, attempting to get his attention.
Yunho turns around, surprised to see you talking to him outside of your study sessions.
“Hey, what’s up?” Yunho questions, his attention fully on you as he forgets his friends existence.
“I passed the exam,” you beam, “well barely it was only a C.”
Yunho’s eyes widen as his face breaks into a bright, genuine smile. His eyes, behind his thick glasses, now sparkle with delight. 
"That's amazing! I knew you could do it!" he exclaims, his enthusiasm matching yours.
His friends can’t resist exchanging glances among themselves, finding it rather peculiar to witness your conversation with Yunho. After all, you are a highly popular figure in their school, while Yunho remains a reserved and relatively unknown individual.
The smile of pride that graces Yunho's face stirs a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, a sensation that has become increasingly common in recent times. Yet, you can't quite bring yourself to acknowledge the feeling, even to yourself.
Yunho's hand rises with a touch of hesitation before gently resting on the top of your head, playfully ruffling your hair to convey a silent 'good job.' Your entire face warms at the simple gesture, a blush creeping across your cheeks.
"Now, it's time to focus on those major tests, okay?" Yunho exclaims, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he makes an effort to infuse you with the same excitement.
"Yes, sir," you respond with a playful salute, evoking a chuckle from his lips. Saluting Yunho has become somewhat of a habit, and he finds it endearing every time you do it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 
You offer a nod, a warm smile gracing your face as you wave and bid farewell to Yunho and his friends.
Walking away, you feel a deep sense of gratitude for Yunho's unwavering support, not just as a tutor but as a friend who is being a great help in your journey toward success. 
His encouragement had been a driving force in your recent accomplishments, and you couldn't have been happier to share this victory with him and his friends in the vibrant courtyard, a testament to the bonds forged through your academic pursuits.
As you depart, Yunho's gaze lingers on your retreating figure, a faint smile gracing his lips as he replays the conversation in his mind. The moment you vanish from his sight, his friends swivel toward him, their faces etched with bewilderment and curiosity.
"When you mentioned you were tutoring someone, you didn't say it was them?" Wooyoung exclaims, genuine confusion stemming from the exchange they just witnessed.
Yunho, momentarily caught off guard by their reactions, inquires, "What do you mean?" He shifts his attention toward the group, ready to address their inquiries.
"Dude, she's the most popular person in this school; you don't just get to talk to them," San chimes in, his astonishment mirroring Wooyoung's.
Yunho, however, didn't buy into the notion of social hierarchies. He pokes San in the forehead, responding, "We're not in high school anymore, and there's no such thing as popular girls and guys."
Wooyoung's expression softens as he mulls over your interaction. "And they were so nice," he continues, noting Yunho's reaction. "I didn't expect someone with their status to be so nice."
Yunho's annoyance flares at the stereotype implied in Wooyoung's words, his brow furrowing. "Don't hold such stereotypes," he chastises his friend. "They... they are the sweetest person I know."
San's eyes widen as he glances at Yunho, connecting the dots. "Holy moly," he exclaims. "You like them, don't you?"
Yunho scrambles to hush him up, his cheeks flushing. "Shut up," he grumbles, though the embarrassment in his voice hints at a deeper truth.
—
“Ugh, I’m never going to pass this test,” you groan as you throw your head into your hands, frustration emitting from your every fibre.
"Come on, don't be so pessimistic. You've got this, and I believe in you," Yunho exclaims, his warm smile casting a ray of encouragement over the room. He watches as you succumb to a hissy fit, a mix of frustration and self-doubt, a smile covering his features at your actions.
"You always say that, but this time I am doomed," you groan, your voice muffled by your hands as you bury your face in them.
Gently, Yunho reaches out and takes your hands, coaxing them away from your face. The contact sends a brief tremor through your heart, and you can’t help but notice the warmth of his touch.
"You can do it; you're the smartest person I know," Yunho says softly, locking his eyes with yours. His words catch you off guard, and you look at him, a puzzled expression furrowing your brow. 
"I'm not smart; if I were, I wouldn't need a tutor," you state flatly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone, which elicits a chuckle from Yunho.
"I'd be an idiot not to see your potential. I just think you had your priorities muddled when you first came here," he remarks.
Curious, you probe further. "What do you mean?"
"I mean it's no secret you enjoy a party," Yunho replies.
"No, before that."
"Oh," Yunho responds, and he continues, seemingly on a roll, "Well, I'd have to be blind not to see how smart you actually are. You're very capable of applying knowledge and solving problems. You have an excellent memory; most of the time, I only have to explain something once, and you've already processed it and applied it. It's very impressive. You're incredibly talented too. I see all the drawings you do in your book when you’re bored."
Yunho continues his praise, yet he is unaware of the emotions that well up within you. When he eventually glances in your direction, he is taken aback to find your eyes glistening with tears and a smile gracing your face.
"Did I say something wrong? I'm so sorry if it wasn't my intention," he inquires quickly, a sense of concern crossing his features as he worries he may have inadvertently hurt your feelings.
You shake your head and wipe away a tear, still smiling. "No, Yunho. It's just... no one really sees me like that anymore."
Now Yunho is confused for a different reason. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, most people see me as the 'popular girl' or 'the life of the party.' I don't know. It's nice to be seen as something other than the stereotype.”
"I know what you mean," Yunho says, his hand ruffling his hair as his cheeks turn a faint shade of red.
"What do you mean?" you ask, intrigued by his response.
"Well, I'm usually seen as a nerd or a loner. People only talk to me when they need help with assignments or answers for exams. It was nice at first, feeling needed, but now it just feels like I'm being used in a way. I only have two friends, and they spend more time with each other than they do with me." Yunho admits, his gaze drifting down to his fingers, where he idly picks at a piece of dead skin on his nail.
"I know it's weird coming from me since you're literally my tutor, but I don't think your intelligence defines you," You begin, causing Yunho to look up at you with a puzzled expression, waiting for you to elaborate.
You continue, your words flowing with sincerity, "You're a sweetheart, Yunho. I see you helping people, not because you have to, but because you genuinely enjoy it. You're kind, a gentleman, and incredibly thoughtful. Your sense of humour is beyond anyone I've ever met before; it's refreshing to talk to someone whose humour isn't just 'your momma' jokes or making others look bad to get a laugh."
Yunho furrows his eyebrows, taking in your words, his expression almost studying them.
"Plus," you add, a warm smile gracing your face, "whether you like it or not, I consider you my friend."
—
The evening sun casts a warm glow over the campus as you join your friend group in the bustling cafeteria. Laughter and chatter filled the air as you settled in with them at your usual table. The topic of conversation quickly turns to the party happening later in the night, an event that has become increasingly rare for you to attend. The thought of partying when there was a crucial final exam on the horizon weighs heavily on your mind.
"Hey, you are coming to the party tonight, right?" your friend asks, a glimmer of anticipation in their eyes.
You hesitate for a moment, knowing what your priorities were. "I wish I could, but I really need to study for the final exam," you explain.
Immediately, your friends' expressions grow sour, and they exchange incredulous glances. "Again? You're always studying or making excuses. It's like you're avoiding us," one of them remarks, frustration creeping into their tone.
Their words sting, and you feel the pressure of their expectations bearing down on you. "I'm not avoiding anyone; I just have to prioritise my studies, you guys know I might get expelled." you insist, your voice wavering slightly as you try to maintain your composure.
But your friends aren’t satisfied with your explanation. 
"You never come to parties anymore. You're turning into a loser nerd, just like that loner Yunho," another friend declares with a snide tone, and the others chime in agreement, chuckles leaving their mouths.
The words strike a nerve, and you can’t hold back any longer. How dare they insult Yunho, who has been there for you during your toughest times of studying? The anger that has been building up inside you erupts.
"Yunho is not a loser," you snap, your voice filled with indignation. "He's been more of a friend to me than any of you. If you can't understand the importance of my studies and support me, then I don't need ‘friends’ like you."
At that moment, you make a decision. These friends are just immature individuals who only care about getting drunk and partying. They value popularity and shallow connections over your well-being and academic success. You have had enough of pretending to be something you weren't just to fit in.
"I don't care about popularity if it means I have to be fake and have fake-ass friends," you exclaim. With that, you push your chair back and leave the table, leaving your former friends behind, realising that true friendship means understanding and respecting your priorities, not forcing you to compromise your goals.
Walking away from the cafeteria, you feel a mix of anger, relief, and sadness. It was painful to let go of friendships that had once meant so much to you, but you knew that your academic journey is more important than trying to fit into a mould that didn't truly represent who you were.
Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t prevent them from spilling over as you stand just outside the school gates. You pay no mind to the curious glances of onlookers, for your emotions are too overwhelming to be hidden. You aren’t entirely certain if these tears are born of sadness, frustration, or a turbulent mix of both.
Without even thinking, you pull out your phone and dial Yunho’s number. You are not sure if you want to be alone tonight, yet you definitely do not want to go to a party. The only person you know will be available is Yunho. Maybe you can have an extra study session tonight.
It takes the phone only five seconds before Yunho picks up, his voice bright as he greets you.
"Hey, Yunho," you begin, attempting to maintain a sense of composure, but the tremor in your voice reveals your unease.
Yunho's keen ear picks up on the shakiness in your tone, and concern washes over him as he responds with a soft, soothing voice, "What's wrong?"
You sniffle, trying to brush off the emotions threatening to overcome you. "Nothing, it's nothing," you reply, your voice still carrying the traces of distress. "Are you free to study? I don't have anything to do, and I need to go over a few things."
Yunho is aware that a big party is scheduled for tonight, information he had gathered from Wooyoung, who also enjoys such gatherings. He finds it puzzling that you, too, had initially expressed an interest in attending the event, but he refrained from voicing his curiosity.
"I am free, but the library is closed today, and the school is closing soon too," Yunho explains, an idea begins to take root in his mind, and he hesitates before asking, "You could come to my place?"
The offer hangs in the air for a moment, full of unspoken implications. Yunho's excitement about the prospect of having you over is palpable, yet he tries to maintain his composure. He knows that his place will offer a quiet environment for studying.
The offer hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, you hesitate. You are well aware that accepting Yunho's invitation would signify a slight shift in your academic tutor relationship. The unspoken implications dance in the silence between you.
Yunho, on the other hand, finds his nervousness manifesting in the way he chews the inside of his cheek. His heart races as he awaits your response, unsure of how you would react to his proposition.
Despite your initial reservations, you can’t seem to bring yourself to decline his offer. The warmth and genuine concern that Yunho has consistently shown makes you feel safe and comfortable around him, and you find it difficult to resist the idea of studying in his presence, even if it means stepping slightly outside the boundaries of your tutor-student dynamic.
“What’s your address?” 
Making your way to Yunho's apartment, the anticipation of seeing him outside the usual academic setting adds an extra layer of excitement to your steps. The prospect of stepping into his personal space, even for a study session, feels like a small adventure.
You reach his apartment door and take a moment to collect yourself, your heart beating just a bit faster with each passing second. When you knock, the immediate rustling sounds from the other side of the door indicate that Yunho is indeed home.
The door opens, revealing a sight that takes your breath away. You are accustomed to seeing Yunho in smart attire, his hair always neatly styled, and he consistently looks presentable. However, the man who stands before you now is quite different.
Yunho is dressed in a loose grey T-shirt that hangs comfortably on his frame, and he wears a pair of black sweatpants that appear as cosy as they are casual. His hair is fluffy and untamed, in stark contrast to his usually well-groomed appearance. Yet, for some reason, this version of Yunho is just as captivating.
He still wears his thick glasses, but the way he looks now, so relaxed and approachable, makes your heart flutter. You can’t help but notice the subtle differences that render him all the more appealing. Your eyes linger on his toned arms, a part of him that was typically concealed beneath his attire. The sight of them, revealed in the simple T-shirt, is enough to send a rush of warmth throughout your body.
Yunho's appearance today is a stark departure from his usual academic demeanour, and it leaves you both pleasantly surprised and, admittedly, a little flustered. 
"Hey, uh, you can come in," Yunho stammers, a faint blush covering his cheeks.
You step inside, casting a brief but appreciative glance around Yunho's apartment. The space is on the smaller side, but it exudes a cosy charm that instantly puts you at ease. The apartment is immaculately clean and well-organised with a sense of tranquillity that contrasts with the bustling student life outside.
The living room is adorned with shelves, and the shelves are full of an impressive array of books, neatly arranged in rows. The sight of so many books gives you a glimpse into the depth of his knowledge and his passion for education.
As you look around, you notice a comfortable-looking sofa with a warm throw blanket tossed over it, a sign of a space that was both functional and inviting. The soft glow of a desk lamp illuminated a study area with a well-kept desk, hinting at countless hours of diligent work.
Yunho's apartment is not large, but it feels like a haven for anyone seeking a peaceful refuge from the outside world. It reminds you of Yunho.
"Do you want something to drink or eat?" Yunho asks, his voice tinged with a touch of nervousness as he observes your exploration of his apartment.
You take a moment to absorb the cosy ambiance of his living space before replying, "Have you had dinner?"
Yunho's cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, and a small, endearing smile graced his lips. “I haven't yet, I was going to order something later.”
“Can we eat together? I haven't eaten since this morning.”
Yunho grumbles your name, reprimanding you, "I told you, you need to eat regularly; it helps with..."
You finish his sentence with a soft chuckle, "Concentration, I know, Yu."
The use of the affectionate nickname "Yu" slips easily from your lips, and you are unaware of the profound impact it has on Yunho. His heart races at the sound of it, though he tries to hide his reaction with a smile. 
You continue, "We can eat while studying, right?" Your suggestion seems to lighten the mood, and Yunho is more than willing to accommodate your request.
“Of course.”
Yunho and you sit on the floor of his living room, your books and notes spread out on his coffee table, which also hold the remnants of an empty pizza box from your meal earlier. This makeshift study space is cosy, and the atmosphere is filled with the shared pursuit of knowledge.
Yunho is positioned in front of you, as he often is during your study sessions, carefully watching you as you diligently take notes. He couldn't help but admire your dedication and determination, and his heart swelled with pride as he saw your progress. 
As you write, a strand of hair slips from behind your ear and falls in front of your face. It is a simple, everyday occurrence, but to Yunho, it is a moment of subtle beauty. He feels a strong urge to reach out and tuck that strand of hair behind your ear, to be close to you in that small, intimate way. However, he holds back, not wanting to push any boundaries that existed between you. 
He watches with fascination as you decide to tie your hair up, using a hairband that was on your wrist. The act of gathering your hair and securing it in a ponytail seems almost magical to him. Yunho can’t deny the allure of how you look with your hair up, a sense of casual elegance that tugs at his heart.
In this moment, his thoughts stray to less innocent territories, but he quickly redirects his focus to the task at hand. He can’t afford to let his mind wander too far, not when the two of you are deep in a study session and he is fairly certain you would never harbour feelings for him in that way. 
However, the image of you with your hair tied up stays with him, etched into his memory, a reminder of the many facets of your charm that make it increasingly difficult for him to keep his feelings at bay.
You furrow your brows, attempting to decipher a particularly complex passage about pathogens. It is a subject that has always managed to baffle you, and tonight was no exception.
Glancing up, you are caught off guard by the intense gaze of Yunho. He was already intently staring at you, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift your focus back to the book, feeling the weight of his attention. Yunho immediately averts his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in his own book.
Taking a deep breath, you decide to take a chance and ask the question that has been bothering you about the microorganism. "Yunho, can you help me with this? I don't quite understand this."
Yunho's attention snaps back to you, his eyes focusing on the book. However, as he leans in to get a better look, the words on the page seem to blur. Determined to help you, he moves closer, sitting next to you on the floor. His arm brushing against yours, his thigh lightly touching yours, creates a subtle yet undeniable physical connection.
Yunho looks down at your bare thighs and he mentally curses you for wearing a skirt, he isn't sure how to pay attention when you are so close to him.
Yunho begins to explain the terminology and you find it increasingly challenging to concentrate on the subject. Your eyes are locked on his face, drawn to the way his lips move and the subtle changes in his expression as he explains the concepts. His proximity was both distracting and comforting, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.
You cannot deny the allure of Yunho's presence. His crisp scent, a mix of a rich, woody sweetness and a hint of cologne, fills your senses and sends your mind racing. It is an intoxicating aroma that evokes a sense of freshness and warmth, creating an almost magnetic pull.
Listening to Yunho's explanations, you struggle to keep your focus on the topic at hand. Your eyes remain fixed on his face, capturing the play of emotions and the genuine care he puts into helping you understand. In this moment, the connection between you is undeniable, and the unspoken tension in the air seems to grow with each passing second. Little did you both know the profound effect you are having on each other as you lean against one another, on the verge of something unspoken. The second Yunho moves back to his seat, you suddenly feel awfully cold and empty, yet once again you push the feelings away.
The two of you continue your study session, when Yunho suddenly removes his glasses and rubs his eyes in a gesture of weariness. His actions catch your attention, and your gaze remains locked on his face, momentarily entranced by the change in his appearance.
In all the time you have spent with Yunho, you have never really taken into consideration how handsome he might be without his glasses. Now, as you observe his bare face, you are struck by his natural beauty. His features are chiselled and symmetrical, and there is a timeless quality to his face that make him incredibly appealing.
Yunho's clear eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, hold a depth that you haven't fully appreciated before. His skin was smooth and unblemished, and his lips had a natural rosy hue. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a different charm to him that you have never taken the time to notice.
For a moment, you find yourself in awe of how genuinely handsome he is, and you can’t help but appreciate the sight of him with his glasses off.
The study session is coming to a close, and as you gather your books and notes, you notice a curious look on Yunho's face. It is evident that he has something on his mind, and your curiosity gets the best of you.
"Is there something??" you inquire, your voice soft and inquisitive.
Yunho hesitates for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "When you called, you seemed upset. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I was just worried."
You look at him with a touch of surprise at his perceptiveness. 
The fight with your friends wasn’t something you had planned to discuss, but you can sense the genuine concern in Yunho's expression, and you feel compelled to share.
Taking a deep breath, you begin to explain the situation, recounting the immaturity and unfair accusations that had led to the fallout. Yunho's shock and disbelief at their behaviour is palpable, and his expression reveals a mix of sympathy and frustration on your behalf.
"I can't believe they'd act like that," Yunho exclaims, his voice laced with sympathy. "It's their loss, you know. You're an incredible person, and they're the ones who are missing out."
Yunho's words are comforting, and the warmth of his understanding makes you feel as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. It is a rare and welcome feeling to have someone truly empathise with your situation, and you find yourself grateful for his support.
Yunho watches you with a tender look when suddenly his curiosity gets the best of him, and he asks, "What does your boyfriend think of you coming to my house and spending so much time with me?"
You let out a sigh, the question touching a nerve you are not quite ready to address. "I don't have a boyfriend," you confess, and for a moment, there is a hint of vulnerability in your voice.
Yunho, genuinely surprised, raises an eyebrow, trying to hide his excitement as he peers at you. "Why not?"
You sigh again, your gaze dropping to the floor. "Most of the boys I'm around aren't ready for a relationship. They just want something casual, and I don't want to get my heart broken."
Yunho's brow furrows as he considers your response. "I didn't expect that," he admits, his voice tinged with surprise.
"What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely curious about his reaction.
Yunho sets a piece of paper he had been studying in front of him, "I mean, you have guys falling at your feet. Don't you have one person you enjoy spending time with?"
You ponder on his words, your eyes lingering on Yunho, who is now fully engaged in the paper. He isn't looking at you; instead, his gaze is focused on the words before him. 
After a moment of contemplation, you respond, "I enjoy spending time with you."
The second the  words leave your lips, Yunho looks up from his reading, and the world seems to momentarily stand still around you. His heart skips a beat, and for a fraction of a second, everything else fades into the background. Your words hang in the air, and Yunho lets them sink in.
In this suspended moment, it is as if the universe conspired to create a connection that went beyond friendship and tutoring. Yunho's heart pounds in his chest, and he can’t help but meet your gaze with a mixture of surprise and affection. 
Yunho cannot deny the impact of your confession. It is a sentiment he has quietly harboured but never dared to voice. Now, as the reality of your words settle in, he can’t help but feel a sense of joy and gratitude for the special bond that has grown between you, transcending the boundaries of tutor and student.
—
The night is alive with the promise of revelry as you arrive at a party, a whirlwind of colour and sound. It has been some time since you'd attended such an event, focusing intensely on your studies. But tonight is different. Hongjoong, an old friend who had no knowledge of falling out with your other friends, had invited you. You trusted him not to judge your academic priorities, and the prospect of enjoying yourself was too tempting to resist.
You had chosen to let loose for the evening. After an intense study session last night, you felt you deserved a break. You wear a stunning deep purple dress that hugs your curves, accentuating your figure in all the right places. The fabric clings to you like a second skin, and its elegance draws the admiring gazes of many in attendance. Though you are well aware of the attention, you can’t help but feel indifferent to it now. Your priorities have shifted, and the superficial desires of others hold little sway over you.
Entering the party, the vibrant atmosphere envelopes you. The music throbs with an infectious beat, and the dance floor pulses with people lost in the rhythm. Laughter and conversations fill the air, and the warm glow of colourful lights creates a dazzling backdrop for the night's festivities.
Spotting Hongjoong in the kitchen, you make your way through the bustling crowd. He is deeply engrossed in a lively conversation with some of his friends, a characteristic grin lighting up his face. A sense of nostalgia and anticipation welled up within you as you drew closer.
You approach Hongjoong, who is mingling near the drinks table, a welcoming smile on his face as he spots you. 
“Do you want a drink?” He offers, but you decline, stating that you have an early lecture the next morning. 
Hongjoong nods understandingly, knowing you are dedicated to your studies. You are grateful for his response, as he does not press the issue but simply smiles and continues with the conversation.
“So you’ve gone back to your nerd roots,” Hongjoong jokes as he hands you a cup of cola.
You laugh as you take the cup, “it’s been a while since I've studied this hard,”
“You were always stuck in a book in highschool,” 
“It’s nice to feel like my brain isn't rotting anymore,” you exclaim laughing.
“I’ll cheers to that,”
As you chat with Hongjoong, you enjoy catching up and the lively atmosphere of the party. When all of a sudden you see a familiar figure from the corner of your eye. At first, you thought your mind might be playing tricks on you, but as you turn your head, you realise it was indeed who you thought it was.
Quickly, you bid a quick goodbye to Hongjoong and make your way through the crowd, heading straight for the person, who seems to be stumbling around slightly. 
Concern etched on your face, you approach him and ask, "Yunho, what on earth are you doing here?"
Yunho's expression is a mix of surprise and embarrassment as he struggles to regain his composure. "Uh… I’m not really sure," he admits, his voice tinged with nervousness.
You can’t help but feel a combination of amusement and warmth at his unexpected presence. Yunho, who usually exudes an air of composed intelligence, seems to be a bit out of his element in the party scene. Nonetheless, you appreciated the effort he made to be there. 
"Are you okay?" You question, his anxious eyes dart around the crowded room, taking in the chaotic atmosphere of the party.
Yunho hesitates for a moment before admitting, "Would it be weird if I said I don't like it here?"
A warm smile graces your face, understanding his unease in this unfamiliar setting. Without hesitation, you reach out and gently grab his hand, your fingers interlocking boldly. Yunho is taken aback by the physical contact, feeling the warmth of your hand in his, and his heart flutters in response.
You lead him to a more secluded area of the house where the music is not as deafening, and the crowd is much thinner. The change of scenery provides a welcome respite from the overwhelming chaos of the main party area. Yunho can’t ignore the way your small hands feel in his large ones, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. It is a simple gesture, but it makes him feel closer to you, dispelling some of his unease.
In the quieter, more secluded area of the house, you and Yunho find a temporary refuge from the bustling party. 
"What are you really doing here?" you ask, curiosity in your eyes.
Yunho's expression shifts, and he admits, "Wooyoung dragged me here. I didn't really want to come, and I already don't like it." His eyes scan the room, taking in the scene around him.
For a moment, Yunho's gaze settles on you, and he notices your choice of attire, a short, form-fitting dress that accentuates your curves. It is a striking sight that leaves an indelible impression on him. His mind wanders to non-innocent places, etching the image of you in this dress into his memory. He can’t deny that you look stunning, and his thoughts momentarily venture into uncharted territory.
Although his initial discomfort at the party has faded, the sight of you in that dress stirs something within him, something he has only thought of late at night. It is an unexpected sight that leaves Yunho in a state of internal turmoil, struggling to keep his thoughts in check as he tries to focus on the conversation at hand.
The pulsating music and the chaotic atmosphere of the party seems to close in around you. Suddenly a thought crosses your mind, and you turn to Yunho, considering your options.
"Do you want to get out of here?" you ask, your voice barely audible over the party noise.
Your question snaps Yunho out of his thoughts, and he looks back up at you as if he had been caught taking in your form. His gaze meets yours, and for a brief moment, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. It is a rare sight, and it makes you feel even more connected to him.
It takes less than a second for Yunho to answer, "Yes."
Without further hesitation, he intertwines your fingers with his, and you both rush towards the exit of the house. Yunho's larger frame shields you from the reckless partiers who are going strong, ensuring you don't get caught in the chaos of the crowd. The touch of his hand is both reassuring and electrifying, and it feels like an unspoken agreement between the two of you; an escape from the madness into a more tranquil and intimate setting.
You are not sure how you ended up at Yunho’s apartment, yet you cannot quite complain. Since the study session at his house you have desired to be back at his, it was so comforting and peaceful in his house and you love it there. 
"You can make yourself at home, I'm going to grab us some food," Yunho explains as he opens the door to his cosy apartment. He moves to grab his wallet from the coffee table, ready to head out to pick up the food. 
However, as he attempts to pass you and make his way to the door, you stand in front of him, blocking his path. The look on your face reveals your disappointment, and it is clear that you don’t want him to leave so soon.
"Can we order it?" you ask, your voice filled with a longing for his company.
Yunho hesitates for a moment, weighing the options, but he ultimately replies, "It'll be quicker for me to get it now."
Despite his practical reasoning, you insisted, "Please stay with me Yunho."
Yunho can’t help but be touched by your plea. The vulnerability in your voice causes a flutter in his chest, and he is acutely aware of the genuine connection that has developed between you. He smiles and relents, realising that he doesn’t want to leave you either.
"Okay," he speaks softly, "I'll order it."
Your gratitude was evident in your eyes, and you knew you had made the right decision. Yunho's presence is something you cherished, and you are both beginning to understand just how much the other means to you.
You settle onto his couch, and soon enough the Chinese takeout that you had ordered arrives, the delightful aroma filling the room. It is a welcomed comfort that you both enjoy as you unwrap the containers and share the delicious meal. 
You watch as Yunho picks a movie that he recommends, and you were intrigued to see his choice.
As you and Yunho start to watch the movie, you can’t help but feel a chill in the room. The soft glow from the TV illuminated your silhouette, the short dress you are wearing now seems impractical in the cosy setting.
Yunho, ever attentive, notices your discomfort and decides to speak up. "Are you cold?" he inquires, a hint of concern in his voice.
You hesitate for a moment but soon admit, "Yeah, a little."
Without further ado, Yunho offers a solution. "I have some warmer clothes you can borrow if you want. I could grab them for you."
His thoughtful gesture leaves you flustered, but you manage to stammer out a grateful "Yes, please." Your heart warms at the consideration he shows, and you appreciate his willingness to make you more comfortable.
Yunho quickly gets up and disappears into his bedroom. He returns with a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, both of which were his own. His choice of clothing was deliberate, as he handed you his favourite hoodie. He has often wondered what you would look like wearing it, and now he has the perfect excuse to find out. The hoodie is warm and smells like him, making you feel closer to him in a way you hadn't anticipated.
Yunho can’t help but watch you with a warm smile as you accept the clothes. However, the smile quickly fades as he realises his mistake, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh, sorry," he quickly stutters out, chuckling nervously as he ruffles the back of his hair, "You can change in my bedroom."
You laugh gently at him, he is so cute.
“Thank you,” you smile before walking into his bedroom.
Entering Yunho's bedroom, you can’t help but take in the clean and organised space. His room is a testament to his meticulous nature, and you appreciate the attention to detail. But what truly catches your eye are the posters of various games adorning the walls. You admired the artwork and can’t help but think that they add a personal touch to the room.
Shaking off the distraction, you proceed to change into Yunho's clothes. The hoodie he has given you is larger than you expected, enveloping you in warmth and reaching down to your mid-thigh. The realisation of just how big Yunho begins to dawn on you.
His hoodie seems to swallow you in its comfort, and you can’t help but feel a little bit smaller. His physical presence is undeniable; he is taller than you, his shoulders are broad, and his hands are significantly larger than yours. The contrast is alluring, and you can’t deny that the thought of him towering over you, his sheer size and strength, stirs something within you.
You feel arousal pooling in between your legs, but you push aside the feeling, not sure if Yunho would feel the same way.
The hoodie is so long, you make a bold choice to not wear the sweatpants, seeing as the hoodie covers everything. Plus, there's no harm in seeing Yunho’s reaction.
You step out of the room, and Yunho is skimming between channels, trying to find a different movie to watch.
When Yunho hears your footsteps approaching the living room, he turns around to look at you, expecting to see you in his clothes. However, what he sees leaves his heart nearly stopping. There you stand, wearing nothing but his hoodie, your legs exposed and on full display. 
Yunho's breath catches in his throat, and he swallows deeply, trying to suppress the flood of sensations and indecent thoughts that surge through his mind. His cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and he is unable to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze inadvertently lingering on your enticing figure.
In this moment, he finds himself captivated by your beauty and the unexpected intimacy of the situation, struggling to maintain his composure. The sight of you in his hoodie was something he had never expected, and it sends his heart and mind into a whirlwind of emotions and desires.
"What's wrong?" you inquire, noticing the wide-eyed and bright red expression on Yunho's face as he gazes at you with an intensity you haven't seen before.
It is as if a switch has flipped in Yunho's mind, and suddenly, confidence takes over his being. You watch in amazement as he stands up from the couch and moves with a determined purpose towards you. 
With each step, it is evident that he is almost out of breath, his chest heaving with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He stops in front of you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. For a moment, you feel like you are the only person in the world for him, and the possessiveness in his gaze doesn’t go unnoticed.
Yunho's large hands land gently on your shoulders, and they slowly trail down to clasp yours. His touch is electrifying, and as he guides you backward, you soon find yourself pressed against the wall, pinned there by his presence. The air seems charged with an unspoken desire, and you can’t help but be captivated by this new side of Yunho.
Yunho murmurs your name, his voice thick with desire and uncertainty. He continues, "You can tell me to stop if you want..."
You don’t hesitate for a moment. In a hushed, eager tone, you reply, "Yunho, just kiss me for fuck's sake."
Yunho gently cups your cheek, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of tenderness and desire. Leaning closer, his lips press against your cheek, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they venture down toward your mouth. He pauses for a moment, watching you closely, his breath brushing across your face, sending shivers down your spine.
With careful consideration, he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, testing the waters, and eliciting a soft gasp from you. Feeling the tightening grip of your hand on his shirt, he gains the reassurance he needs to continue. Slowly, he deepens the kiss, his lips melding with yours, the softness and warmth sending a wave of astonishment through your body. His lips move against yours and all the feelings of the past few months pour into the kiss.
Yunho delicately probes his tongue into your mouth, you can’t help but respond. Your fingers tighten their hold on his shirt, and a surge of electric sensations course through your body, leaving you breathless and eager for more. 
Yunho's kiss tastes like pure indulgence, a blend of desire and longing that leaves you yearning for more. The feeling is exquisite, and you can’t help but moan softly in response to the intensity of the moment. 
His lips leave yours, trailing down your neck from the curve of your jaw. Soft gasps escape your lips as he explores the sensitive skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine as he presses you harder against the wall, the heat of the kiss overcoming the two of you. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you instinctively threw your head back, granting him better access to your neck. 
Yunho breaks away from the kiss, a hint of frustration in his eyes as he tosses his glasses aside, irritated by their intrusion. His dark and intense gaze is now fully revealed, making you realise the depth of his desire. Without delay, he reconnects your lips with a hungry passion that leaves you breathless.
His hands begin a journey down your waist, their touch igniting sparks of pleasure. With astonishing ease, he lifts you off your feet, his strength both surprising and exciting. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, and that is when you feel his hardness prodding you through your underwear. You suddenly feel extremely thankful for not wearing the sweatpants as he now has easier access to where you want him most.
Yunho carries you toward his bedroom with an air of urgency, his strides confident and determined. With a swift, well-placed kick, he sends the bedroom door wide open.
He gently sits on the edge of the mattress, you find yourself in his lap, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The world outside fades into insignificance, and you are left with a sense of anticipation that sends shivers down your spine. The connection between you and Yunho grew stronger, and the intensity of the moment only heightened your desire for one another.
Yunho’s hands travel to your hips, where he kneads the flesh appreciatively. With a calculated move, he pushes you down onto himself, grinding you against his hardness. This causes the both of you to moan into the kiss, the both of you addicted to the sound.
“Yunho, please,” you mutter into the kiss, needing relief that you know Yunho will provide.
“What do you want, beautiful?” Yunho groans back against your lips when he feels you grinding yourself onto him.
“You.” you say with confidence, “always been you.” you declare and it has Yunho’s heart racing even faster in his chest.
Yunho realises the fun he can have in this situation, and he feels addicted to the control he has over you. You bury your face into Yunho’s neck, your embarrassment becoming apparent.
“How badly?” Yunho teases as he places long hot kisses on the side of your neck.
“Please Yunho, please.” usually you would feel humiliated, yet you have no time to feel any form of embarrassment, your desire is too strong. With a swift yet tender movement, Yunho deftly flips the two of you over, your back now resting on the plush comfort of his bed. He settles between your open legs, the space between you filled with electrifying anticipation as the world around you blurred into obscurity. 
“Since you’re such a good girl, I have to take care of you, don’t I?”
Yunho's transformation is nothing short of mesmerising. The once innocent aura that surrounded him has gone, replaced by a commanding presence that leaves your head spinning. It is as if he has unlocked a hidden side of himself, and the intensity of his actions and words leave you completely captivated and yearning for more.
With a gentle motion, Yunho pulls the hoodie off, revealing your bare chest to his hungry eyes. He takes in the sight of your naked top half and your panties and it is better than all the times he has imagined it. Your nipples immediately harden in the chilly air and you hastily rush to cover yourself.
“Do not,” Yunho's gentle yet commanding voice holds you in its sway, preventing you from covering yourself. He takes hold of your wrists, his words alone enough to convey his desire, and you obediently nod in agreement, unable to resist his irresistible influence.
“Gorgeous,” he whispers as he scans over your body.
Yunho begins to leave soft kisses across your collar bones, reaching your shoulders and neck as he simultaneously massages the flesh of your breast. He leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin, suckling and biting marks into your skin that only he gets to see.
Slowly, he takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it, and biting the sensitive nub, an action that has you arching and moaning into his touch.
“You sound so beautiful moaning for me.” Yunho growls before moving to your other nipple and giving it the same attention, making sure to watch your every reaction.
In an agonising pace, Yunho trails his kisses down and you can almost feel yourself shaking from excitement as he nears where you need him the most.
You almost explode the second you feel Yunho’s mouth trailing along your thighs, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh.
Yunho chuckles darkly when he hears your excited gasps and moans, the sounds are like a beautiful melody to him, causing him to want more.
Yunho's sudden act of sitting up to remove his jumper catches your attention, and your eyes remain fixated on him. What you see beneath his clothes surprises you. His toned, well-defined upper body, his waist is slender, his shoulders are broad, giving him a somewhat hourglass-like figure. While he isn’t overly muscular, his physique was indeed a captivating sight. Chiselled abs adorn his stomach, and an irresistible desire wells up within you, compelling you to kiss every inch of his flawless skin.
Yunho's chest swells with pride as he observes your intense gaze on his body. He can hardly believe the turn of events and the desire he sees in your eyes.
Yunho smirks as your hands fumble towards his belt, desperately wanting his pants off. 
"Patience, doll," Yunho asserts, his voice exuding confidence as he helps you remove his belt.
Left in only his boxers, you can see his length outlined through his black boxers and your breath is momentarily taken away. He is big, very big. You cannot help but let out a whimper of desperation as you look back up Yunho, who has a cocky grin on his features.
Leaning down, he starts placing light kisses on your stomach and thighs, getting close, but not quite close enough for your liking.
Instinctively, you run your fingers through his locks, trying to push him closer to where you need him. You hear Yunho chuckle at your eagerness, his heart racing knowing you want him as much as he wants you.
You watch Yunho’s every move, wanting to imprint every moment deep into your memory.
Yunho presses a gentle kiss against your clothed core, eliciting a soft mewl from your lips and Yunho hums in appreciation. You feel your whole body heat up in embarrassment as Yunho pulls your panties down, tossing them to the side of the room. You attempt to close your legs, feeling extremely exposed. Yunho feels himself losing self control as he looks at your soaking core, yet he tells himself to control his urges, wanting to make this last for much longer.
Yunho isn’t pleased with this and he lets out a growl as he speaks, “open those legs and let me see that pretty pussy.”
He grips your thighs, forcing them open and you can't help feel another rush of arousal course through you from his strength. It annoys you how slow he is, taking his time to get where you need him, he is too busy enjoying every small reaction, your desperation and eye fucking you, gauging every one of your gasps and twitches.
Yet the second his lips are on your core, the loud moan you let out is close to a scream and you feel him raviging you. His mouth works expertly against you, his tongue alternating between flicking your clit to lapping at your soaking hole has you seeing stars. 
Your body squirms with pleasure under Yunho's skilled touch, your fingers instinctively weaving into his hair as he eats you like you are his last meal.
“Yunho, please…” your voice is hoarse as you look down at him.
Yunho gazes up at you, a teasing smirk playing on his lips, making your thoughts hazy.
“Please what, pretty?” Yunho questions, yet as you are about to answer, he slips in one of his long fingers into your core. The second he feels your warm walls around him, he feels himself fighting the urge to destroy you right there and then. You jolt at the sensation, tears lining your eyes because of how desperate you are to be filled by him.
“Want you…need you…” you say, your voice shaky as you throw your head back against the pillow.
“Oh baby,” Yunho tuts, his voice almost condescending as he stares up at your fucked out state, “your pussy is so tight, I need to prep you before, don’t want you to get hurt.” 
Yunho's words send another wave of desire coursing through your veins. The contrast between his stern tone and his evident care for your well-being leaves you feeling both dizzy and achingly needy.
“You don't want to get hurt, do you now?” Yunho questions, gently slapping your thigh to get your attention back on him.
“No, I don’t,” you exclaim, doing anything to please the man in front of you. 
“Good girl,” 
He's ruthless, entering another finger into your wet hole, his tongue alternating sucks and nips on your clit. With ease, he manages to find the spot inside you that sets fireworks through you and you feel the coil in your belly starting to tighten in pleasure. 
"So fucking good, doll." He groans, his face pressed against your core has your cunt throbbing. “Can you even take my dick? I don’t want to hurt you when you’re being so good for me.”
You feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm, desperate to topple over the edge. All you need is a little encouragement, and you're extremely glad Yunho is so good at reading you.
“Let loose, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” 
You let out a loud moan, almost a scream as your orgasm hits you and Yunho holds your shaking body down, licking your clit softly as you finish.
Before you can finish riding through your high, Yunho continues to kiss your pussy gently while adding a finger, the sudden stretch in your hole has you whining and writhing around from the sensitivity, his rough movements from his long fingers has you shaking even more. You beg for him to slow down and, thankfully he leans back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watches you twitch beneath him.
Before you can comment on anything, Yunho leans down and captures you in another heated kiss, and you moan when you can taste yourself on his lips, a new rush of arousal flooding through your body.
“Do you want to keep going? We can stop if you want to.” Yunho's voice, filled with concern, warms your heart, but you can't help the groan that escapes your lips. 
"I’d love to continue," you rush on your words, your enthusiasm unabated. Chuckling at your eagerness, Yunho moves back slightly, running a hand through his hair as he gazes down at you, a mix of pride and desire evident in his eyes as he looks at your fucked out state.
“Wait shit, I don't know if i have a condom,” Yunho says, worried as he ruffles through his bedside table, not able to find any.
“Wait really?” you question, not even the slightest bit worried about him not having a condom, in fact you almost try to hide your excitement, “it’s okay.” 
“What?” 
“We don't need it, I'm on the pill.” You exclaim, pulling him by his hand closer to you, so he sits on the bed next to you.
Yunho is taken aback by your boldness, yet he finds it extremely hard to hide his excitement. The low groan that escapes his lips doesn't go unnoticed by you, further fueling the growing intensity of the moment. Yunho looks up at you, his eyes dark as he studies your face for any form of discomfort. When he doesn't see any, he almost moans at the thought of finishing inside of you. “Fuck, baby. You're going to be the death of me.”
The second Yunho removes his boxers, your mouth is almost watering at the sight of his length. Not only is he long, but he is girthy, standing tall. Your mouth hangs slightly open as you take in the sight. You can feel your pussy throbbing at the thought of how well he is going to stretch you out.
“Like what you see?” Just like that, the caring Yunho is once again replaced with the cocky Yunho that you just love.
Instead of firing the bratty comment that is on the tip of your tongue, you simply nod your head, too overcome with the need for him to just destroy you.
Yunho leans over you again, spreading your legs wide to fit right between them, he takes his time rubbing up and down your slit, gathering your arousal to lube himself up. Your whines and whimpers are like music to his ears, and he doesn't know if he can ever get enough of you like this.
Lining up with your entrance, he takes his time to gently slide just the tip in, causing you to gasp lightly. Yunho buries his head into your neck, biting his lip as he attempts to maintain his composure. He knows he needs to take it slow in order to not hurt you, but the way you are clenching around him has his mind spinning with arousal.
He gets back up, his intense gaze watching your every expression as he eases himself in, going at a steady pace. The sting is definitely present and you squint at the light pain.
“Deep breaths, beautiful. You’re doing so well.” 
You grab his toned arms as he pushes himself further in, his own breaths getting shallow as he feels your warm walls envelop his length.
‘Stay focused, Yunho,’ he thinks to himself, over and over, desperately trying to keep his composure, yet it proves more difficult by every passing second that your tight pussy sucks him in.
Pleasure surges through you but the only thing you are able to focus on is how full you feel. Your breath catches in your throat and you tense up as he gradually bottoms out, groaning, "So big."
“Yeah, does it feel good?” Yunho’s voice is raspy as he cages you in his arms, his eyes scanning your face.
“So good… please move.” is all you manage to say.
Yunho starts with some slow, teasing thrusts dragging his cock out before pushing it back in and it has you mewling out in pleasure.
“Fuck you’re so tight,” Yunho chokes out, his sanity practically gone as he feels your tight walls hugging his cock so nicely.
The beautiful sight of him on top of you, sweaty and lust ridden has you moaning and clenching around his cock. Wrapping your arms tightly around his strong back, your nails dig into his skin as he increases his pace. 
"Does this feel good, pretty?"
You are only able to manage out a moan of approval, letting him know, yes, he is doing good. Yunho chuckles against your skin as you let out noises of pleasure, every one spurring him on and making him desperate to make you finish again. In a purposeful movement, Yunho leans his hips back slightly, so his cock is angled in a way where it hits your g spot perfectly with every thrust. Yunho knows he has found it the second your words and moan become a mixed blabbing mess, with this he smirks. He almost doesn't want to stop, he is having too much fun with you.
Yunho grunts as he starts thrusting even faster, his hand coming down to flick your clit, needing you to come on his cock. He needs you to finish before him.
You feel your orgasm approaching fast, and Yunho can tell by the way you clench and claw at his arms, pulling him down to lock him in a heated kiss, he swallows your moans and whimpers happily.
Yunho pulls away from your swollen lips to bury his face in your neck, whispering praise into your ear. 
“Who is making you feel this good, doll?” he whispers in his deep voice, “do you want to cumm, pretty girl? Be a good girl and cum on my big dick, I know you want to.”  
The coil in your belly tightens even more, your legs starting to shake around him as you moan out his name pathetically. 
“That’s it, beautiful, milk my cock dry.” 
“Need to cum,”
Yunho’s chest tightens at the desperate tone in your voice and for a moment, he knows he is definitely able to get used to your desperate whines.
“Go ahead, baby cum for me, let the whole neighbourhood know how good I’m making you feel.”
That's all it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap, and your orgasm hits you hard. Intense pleasure ripples through you like tsunami waves, shaking your whole body and making your toes curl as your fingernails dig into his arms. The sensation overwhelms you as your world narrows down to the electrifying connection you share with Yunho.
Yunho follows in suit, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside of you, his choked swears and moans in your ear as he wraps his strong arms around you, securing you in a tight embrace as the two of you ride out your orgasms.
After a few moments of silence, the only sounds to be heard in the room are the deep inhales and exhales of you and Yunho, the two of you lost in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. The intimacy lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a warm, comfortable blanket.
Yunho gently sits up, his arms shaky as he tries to regain his composure. A layer of sweat covers his face, and even in the low light of his room, you think he looks absolutely handsome. His dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks only add to his charm, and you can't help but admire him as he catches his breath.
Slowly, he pulls out, his seed spilling out of your swollen hole, a sight which has Yunho getting hard once again, yet he pushes the thoughts to the side and quickly rushes to the bathroom to grab a washcloth for you.
You can't help but feel a wave of insecurity and vulnerability as Yunho steps away to fetch the washcloth. The moment he disappears from your sight, a rush of unease washes over you, and tears begin to pool in your eyes. You never expected this level of intimacy, and now, seeing him leave even briefly, you fear he might be having second thoughts.
When he returns with the washcloth, he immediately notices the glistening tears in your eyes. Panic sets in, and he rushes to your side, cradling you in his arms.
"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Did I do something to upset you?"
You sniffle and shake your head. "I'm sorry. I thought you disappeared for good, and I got scared."
Yunho's expression softens as he caresses your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear. "Oh, baby, I would never do that. I promise you, I'm here for you. I'm so sorry for putting that thought in your mind."
He holds you close, offering the warmth and comfort you desperately need, reassuring you that he's not going anywhere.
“Yunho?” You look towards Yunho, whose gaze is already set on you with an affectionate gaze. Tenderly, he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, and a sense of comfort washes over you.
Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, murmuring, "Yes, baby?"
Your heart flutters at the endearment as you continue, "What are we?"
Yunho raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a warm smile. He knew this question was coming, and he's more than prepared to answer. "Well, if you'll have me, I'd love to be your nerdy boyfriend."
A surge of happiness fills you, and you can't hold back your grin. "Only if you'll have me as your 'not so nerdy' girlfriend?"
Yunho chuckles and cups your face with his hands, sealing the moment with a sweet kiss. "Deal," he whispers against your lips, his arms wrapping even harder around you, securing you in a warm embrace.
“Let’s clean you up, pretty.”
—
“Sitting in Professor Turner's office, you're feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Yunho is right beside you, his presence giving you comfort and assurance. Professor Turner, the mentor you deeply respect, and her opinion matters greatly to you. You've been working tirelessly to improve your grades, and this is the moment of reckoning. To tell whether you are going to be expelled or not.
Professor Turner reviews your recent exam results, and you can't help but glance at Yunho. He's been your constant support, helping you study, explaining complex concepts, and motivating you to push your limits. There's a fond smile on his face, his warm eyes reflecting his pride in your accomplishments.
Finally, Professor Turner finishes her review and looks up at you with an encouraging smile. "I don't know how you did it, but your grades have not only improved, they have excelled. You are somehow one of the best in my class right now."
Your heart swells with pride as you realise the significance of her words. Tears fill your eyes and you feel the heavy weight that has been on your heart for months finally lift.
Yunho's proud smile widens, and the love in his eyes grows even more apparent. You feel a deep sense of accomplishment and happiness, knowing that with his help and your dedication, you've managed to exceed your own expectations and impress one of your most respected professors.
You look over at Yunho, gratitude shining in your eyes, and say,
"Well, I had an amazing tutor."
{i didnt proof read this, so if you see mistakes i apologise, im very tired}
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pochipop ¡ 7 months ago
Text
#HOMICIPHER !! ♡ — DWELLING, ROTTING, SURVIVING (MR CRAWLING X READER).
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#. synopsis! — speaking isn't the only way to understand, and he's oh so gentle .
#. characters! — mr crawling .
#. warnings! — canon-typical dark content + setting .
#. word count! — 1.7k .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
#. a/n! — hi, i posted, please stop bullying me in my inbox :(( - all jokes aside, thank you guys for all the nice messages and compliments! & happy pride to my lgbt followers! funnily enough, don't think i've ever "come out" on this blog, but if it's not obvious, i'm bisexual lol so there's that!
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You found yourself pressed against a cold, damp wall in what you could only assume was a room close to the belly of this labyrinth-like building. Breaths came in shallow, frightened gasps as the lights overhead flickered ominously, like they were trying to warn you of impending danger. . . Danger that you felt sting your chest like needles poking through your skin. The oppressive silence surrounding you was broken only by your intakes of air and the soft, almost imperceptible sound of something —or someone— (or maybe a mixture of the two, in this God-forsaken place) nearby.
Squinting into the gloom, a familiar shape emerged from the dark hallway, slipping into the room with you and pausing in the doorway. You felt relief take hold of you.
Mr Crawling. . .
That, of course, likely wasn’t his real name, but you didn’t speak in the language of clicks, noises, and chirp-like sounds that he did, and he didn’t speak with your tongue either. It was for that reason in particular that you’d bludgeoned his head with a crowbar not long ago, to which he sulked in a corner, bleeding and whining, and you were left to feel terrible for hurting the first entity that had tried to go out of his way to show you true empathy in a way you understood.
Apologizing didn’t even begin to feel like enough. Probably because you were at least ninety percent sure he didn’t understand what you were saying anyway. Helping him with the wound perhaps made it slightly better. . . But also not really, because even now as he skims across the ground to where you are, there’s a sense of guilt that weighs heavy on your heart.
Pale, grey-skinned and moving like any non-human mammal of sorts, his face is mostly obscured by the long, stringy black hair that falls in vine-like, clumped strands all the way to the floor from his hunched position. There’s an unsettling, animalistic grace to the way he approaches, but you don’t flinch this time when he puts the flat of his cold palm against the crown of your head, as if trying to soothe your breathing. All of that initial fear has been replaced by a strange comfort of sorts, and you look up at him, thankful for his presence now more than ever.
He tilts his head, as if listening for something, and you watch him warily with the same crowbar clutched in your fist. A part of you felt bad carrying it around like that with his blood still smeared on it, but here, you knew it was foolish to venture around without a weapon of some sort. Not protecting yourself for the sake of his feelings was, unfortunately, not an option as far as you were concerned, but thankfully he didn’t seem to have any opinion on the matter.
“Mr Crawling,” you whisper softly, reaching out to take his hand into your own.
He seemed to really respond to physical touch, and if language was always going to get in the way, you figured it was best to bridge the gap in another manner. This was the next best thing you could think of.
His head raises, and you suppose he’s trying to meet your gaze, though you can’t see his eyes through the mess of his hair.
“I need to understand you,” you say.
Ironically, that’s a bit of a hopeless endeavor in this sort of environment. It’s not like you have all the time in the world to pick up a new, completely unrelated language to yours while fighting for your life. Still. . . Gesturing had been helpful previously, especially for directions. The hooded figure you ran into first was quick to point around, that severed hand that had guided you for a bit was just as poignant in that area, and the silver-haired entity with a blindfold over his eyes had also tried to communicate with you in that sense as well. So why couldn’t you do it vice-versa?
“Me,” you point to yourself, “you,” you point to him.
He stared blankly for a moment, then seemed to come to an understanding. His had retracted from your head to point at himself, then to you, a clicking noise coming from the back of his throat. You smile. It was a small victory amongst a series of devastating losses, but you were keen on taking it and running with it as far as you could stretch it.
“Okay,” you breathe, talking more to yourself than to him. “Let’s try this then. . .”
Feeling a surge of determination, you touch your stomach and then mime eating.
“Hungry. Eat.”
At this point, you were still too anxious to have an appetite, but you knew you’d need food eventually. You were hoping he’d be able to help you with that somehow. Up until this point, you hadn’t seen any evidence of there being food around here, —no containers, boxes, or wrappings, but he seemed to understand your gestures and mimicked you; sitting back on his knees to rub his stomach through his filthy t-shirt, then nibbling on an imaginary item.
He looks back to you, as if seeking approval. You smile, hoping he understands that to be a sign of good will, then nod your head to drive home the association. Beneath his swath of hair, he smiles too, and you catch a glimpse of his eyes through the curtain of black strands; dark and thoughtful.
“Good,” you murmur, feeling slightly relieved. 
If nothing else, this was progress. You spend a while longer trying to communicate basic needs and warnings: things like yes, no, stop, come, drinking, sleeping, and a thank you in the way of patting his head. You’re not sure he understood the depth of it by any means, but he did seem to enjoy it. . . Like a puppy. The thought made you smile genuinely and absentmindedly, if only for a moment. The clicks and chirps he makes are mostly lost on you, but the noises are comforting nonetheless. This rudimentary bridge of understanding soothes you just a little, and you find yourself feeling very thankful that he’s here in the first place.
He has your face cupped in his hands now, as if he’s inspecting you. . . Or perhaps admiring? That is, until you feel his body tense and all his little sounds abruptly come to a halt. A small growl reverberates from the back of his throat and his wide smile droops into a frown. Suddenly, he’s roughly dragging you along, tugging urgently on your arms, to which you comply and follow along with him, scooting across the floor until you reach a shadowed alcove. You hadn’t even noticed it before, but he seems to know his way around this place like the back of his cold, grey hand.
He covers your mouth for a moment, then shakes his head. You cover your mouth, take your hand away, then shake your head no, just to ensure to him that you’ve understood. He pats your head then crouches in front of you, using his own body as a makeshift shield for yours. His long, spindly arms cage you against the wall. Fear rises inside you once again, though not because of him and his actions. Rather, the faint, rhythmic thuds of footsteps have begun reverberating through the hall just outside, and you recognize the harrowing pattern they click in.
Mr Scarletella.
You encountered him once before and felt every hair on your body stand on end. The way he moved through the halls with a menacing flow that sounded almost eerily melodic, and the strange, unsettling red glow that seemed to exude off him that nearly drew you in like a moth to a flame. The steps echoed off the walls of the building and your heart began to hammer against your ribs. Mr Crawling moved closer as he came into view through the doorway that lacked any actual door to close, his long, black hair tickling your nose ever so softly. Dressed in scarlet and carrying his ever-present umbrella, you decide quite readily that you’ve seen enough, closing your eyes and focusing on the cool feel of Mr Crawling’s skin, on his musky scent (like mildew and a bit of rot, which isn’t necessarily pleasant, but it’s not like he can really help it down here.)
Though you’re no longer watching, the entity dripping in scarlet moves with an unsettling, almost predatory grace, glancing about the corridors as if he’s searching for something. Or someone.
Once again, Mr Crawling presses closer to you. Now, you’re able to feel the way his body trembles with fear, and you realize that he’s just as terrified as you are, though you can’t tell if that fear is for himself, for you, or for both of you at once. And it’s not like you can ask. Still, you open your eyes just long enough to look up at him, Mr Scarletella in your peripheral as you force a smile and touch the crown of Mr Crawling’s head, offering what little comfort you can. He still quivers, but seems to appreciate the gesture, though he doesn’t risk a happy chirp.
The danger passes as the man in scarlet disappears down the hallway, then turns the corner. You let out a silent sigh of relief and Mr Crawling relaxes after several moments of continued tension, finally going limp and releasing you from against the wall. He slumps onto his knees, which seems to be his most comfortable position, and he looks at you clearly through the darkness. In that moment, it feels like you’ve understood one another perfectly. 
“Thank you,” you whisper sincerely, though you know he can’t really understand you.
You’re just hoping the gratitude comes across somehow, but at the risk that it won’t, you touch your chest over top of where your heart’s still beating like a drum, then touch his chest in the same place. It dawns on you that you don’t feel a heartbeat at all, and you almost pull your hand away. . . But something stops you. Something that says even if you’re right and he’s something less (or more) than human, —it doesn’t matter as much as the kindness he’s shown you. So your hand lingers until you softly pull away.
He grabs your cheeks again and holds them delicately.
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gloomwitchwrites ¡ 15 days ago
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Hi hii!
New follower here!
Love your writings, I love how you write for each of the TF141 my men 😌.
Just wanted to hop in and ask how would you think each of the men would react if they found out their SO has a MAGNIFICENT singing voice. 😊
Oki that’s it haha. 😅
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Hi! Hello! At the time of you sending this in, you were a new follower, but it has been a MINUTE! (And by minute I mean several months; y'all I am very backlogged on imagines requests). So, welcome! Hello! Happy you're here!
I adore this ask. It's so CUTE. Love the idea of reader not revealing that they can sing and just surprising them in either very odd or normal ways. Like, reader doesn't think it's a big deal but the guys do!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, swearing, brief suggestive themes, undercover, tf141!reader (Soap's), nondescript nudity, fluff, karaoke, alcohol
Word Count: 1.2k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
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John Price
John settles against the booth, his gaze roaming over the crowd. Cigar smoke lingers in the air, and the only light comes from tiny candles at each of the tables. His target is here, sitting at a table at the front of the room next to the stage.
You are somewhere behind the scenes—somewhere backstage. It annoys John that you volunteered to do this, to put yourself on display, and it irritates him further that he cares at all. Whatever interest he feels needs to be set aside. You are his coworker—a teammate. It can’t be more than that when the two of you are in the field. It doesn’t matter that it’s his name you moan in the dark.
But you’re the bait—the pretty thing that will catch the target’s interest and reel him in, and that makes John’s blood fucking boil.
The announcer appears on stage, dropping your fake name. The crowd politely claps and John steels himself.
As the curtain opens, John expects you to be clad in something revealing, to parade around and undress further. This club is known for that, but instead, you twinkle like starlight. The dress itself might appear to be nothing but air with the appearance of sheerness, but there is nothing revealed to the naked eye.
No. You’re covered. And you take nothing off.
A live band starts to play. You open your mouth, and beauty emerges, enveloping John like a snug hug.
Every note is magnificent. Gorgeous. You are angelic and seductive in equal measure. A siren on stage luring all in attendance to their end.
How did he not know you could sing like this?
John’s mouth falls open, the whiskey in front of him forgotten.
“Are you hearing this, captain?” Soap’s voice crackles through the earpiece.
“Yeah,” he coughs. “I hear it.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
It’s all quiet on base. Most are down for the night; the only ones awake are on guard at the gates or on routine patrol.
Johnny is freshly showered and ready to go home. All he needs is to check in on you.
With towel hanging loosely on his hips, Johnny discreetly enters the women’s communal showers. He’d never do this, but he knows you’re alone. What he doesn’t expect is to hear your voice. You’re not speaking to yourself—or anyone. The place is completely empty.
You’re…singing.
Actually, singing. And not that weird off-key shit one might do in the shower. This is true singing. Your voice is goddamn gorgeous—angelic.
Johnny stands in silence for a moment, simply listening, allowing the steam from your shower to curl around him just like your voice. His feet begin to move across the floor and then he’s right there in front of the curtain. He yanks it open.
You turn, eyes widening, the song you’re singing becoming a surprised squawk. “Johnny!”
Without looking away, Johnny removes the towel and hangs it up. Stepping inside, he shuts the curtain, trapping you between him and the tile wall.
“You never told me you could sing.”
“You never asked?” you reply, arms covering your breasts.
It’s cute that you’d hide from him like this. He’s seen it all anyway.
Smirking, Johnny places one hand against the wall. Leaning in, he lowers his voice into a gentle coo. “What else are you hiding from me?”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“He’s cute, Johnny.”
Soap beams. Simon has never seen him so happy. “Takes after his mum.”
“Thank fuck for that,” chuckles Simon. “You’re an ugly bloke.” He lightly nudges Johnny’s arm with his elbow. Somehow, the man’s smile widens.
On the sofa, you sit next to Johnny’s wife. She’s transferring their son into your arms. He fusses a bit, tiny fits waving around, face pinched in annoyance.
“Hello,” you coo, your smile so sweet and soft it twists something deep in Simon’s stomach. The infant stretches and makes an irritated gurgle, his face growing red as a tantrum bubbles up. “Oh. None of that now,” you murmur.
There is no panic on your face. Instead of handing him back to his mother, you hold him close, and start to sing. It’s a light melody, a gentle song that even soothes Simon as he listens. The infant hiccups, eyes widening slightly in surprise, and then promptly calms. Those gorgeously blue eyes are focused on your face, completely enthralled.
Simon knows so much about you, but how did he not know this? Johnny’s smile even faulters, his own surprise apparent.
He leans in, whispering in Simon’s direction. “Did you know she could sing like that?”
“No,” replies Simon, his attention locked in on your serenade.
As you continue, the child’s eyelids grow heavy, eventually closing altogether. When your song comes to a close, you glance up at Simon, smiling.
Johnny chuckles, and Simon shoots him a look. “What?”
“Think you’re next.”
Simon frowns. “Next what, Johnny?” That shit-eating grin is back on Soap’s face. “Next what?!”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (can be read gn!reader)
Price reclines against the vinyl, eyes closed, arms crossed, and legs spread. Simon sits off to his left, awake and alert but clearly not wanting to be there. Kyle observes it all from his spot on the L-shaped couch.
You and Soap stand next to the karaoke machine, the two of you whispering and giggling as you sift through all the options. The two of you picked this place—a karaoke lounge full of private rooms for groups of all sizes. Payment is by the hour.
The massive flatscreen television on the wall rolls through different local advertisements as well as what’s on the menu. The prices for a single beverage are fucking outrageous.
“Pick something yet?” grumbles Simon.
Price doesn’t even budge. He might be out cold.
Kyle grins, basking in your joy. This is the first time the team is meeting you in person and not hearing about you secondhand. Soap flips Simon off and you press a hand over your mouth, glancing at Kyle for reassurance.
Soap holds out a microphone to you and you take it, the two of you standing on either side of the couch, and turned toward the television. The screen shifts, and then the opening notes of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” start playing. The original music video appears, and over it is the opening words.
“You’re fucking joking, mate,” groans Simon, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees.
Soap is off-key. It’s honestly some of the worst singing Kyle has ever heard. But you? You’re fucking killing it. Hitting every note, making up for Soap’s terrible tune, and still smiling through it all. Kyle has been with you for several months now, and he had no idea you could sing like this.
You and Johnny start moving around the room, dancing and pointing and having the time of your lives. Kyle can’t help but smile, to enjoy the experience of simply watching you having fun with the people he not only considers his teammates but his friends.
As the song wraps up, Simon pushes off from the couch and snags the microphone right out of Soap’s hands.
“You’re done, Johnny.”
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