#i've seen it happen before my very eyes
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Also I've been discouraged about posting on Twitter lately because I feel like I am unwittingly providing material for someone to weaponise as an irritant for no apparent reason lately...
Sometimes I try not to care and sometimes I just forget that it happens and the rest of the time I'm like hmm... Think I'll just... be quieter...
But then also like, please do not think I'm dead if I don't post on Twitter I fucking hate that website.
#everyone like oh noooo elon is killing twitter#i'm like 'just kill it. just put it out of it's misery'#everyone moving to blue sky or whatever nah i know what comes from that#the creator is gonna get called out for something dumb on my 2 mile long list of things i've seen people get called out for#and then everyone will mass evacuate and everything you did on that website will have been a waste of time#i've seen it happen before my very eyes#puri rambles#the only good thing about twitter is the messaging system and for the most part i turned off dms anyway because i was tired of bots#hi do you want to commission me? no i want you to collapse into smouldering ashes and become one with the earth again to rebuild humanity#your bot has no purpose but to be annoying i do not respect it#anyway i'm heading to bed goodnight
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not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go
(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)
#today's gone Badly and i'm upset but instead of venting abt it i'm gonna channel that energy into doing a bit of tag rambling abt Boothill#well. less abt Him and more abt uh. self-analyzing my anxiety surrounding contributing to fandoms. he's just today's catalyst#like. i know it's mostly a me thing. i'm hypersensitive to criticism and very conflict avoidant + socially anxious + perfectionistic etc.#so I'm the one that keeps myself from posting more stuff out of fear of being criticized or called-out for what i've made#bc inevitably Someone's gonna see it and think its OOC or a problematic take or they'll misread my intent. etc etc what have you#but like. that's inevitable. there's no way to communicate every single thing with all of the nuance required to avoid misunderstandings#and other times it's not a misunderstanding it's just a difference of opinions and that's Fine!! there's no accounting for personal taste#there's no accounting for several things actually. taste‚ bias‚ lore-knowledge‚ differing levels of chronic-online-ness‚ etc#so this isn't me complaining abt the state of fandom culture (although i do think. sometimes. ppl take shit a bit too seriously)#but anyways all of this is mostly just anxiety-fueled. it's not like i very often actually even receive negative feedback or anything#if anything ppl tend to tell me that i'm overthinking it and killing my own fun and worried that my stuff is more OOC than it is#which like. yeah. Yeah u right :) but that's just the way that i am! always losing the idgaf war i suppose#anyways what's Boothill got to do w this ur wondering. well. i've been thinking abt the quickly emerging concept that he's illiterate.#and it just. has me feeling a lot of ways. and watching ppl disagree over it has me feeling some Bad ways. bc it's def a loaded topic!#if you'll pardon the pun there. and i don't rlly have anything new to add other than that i'm conflicted abt it.#like yeah i saw the leaks days ago. of him mentioning 'not hitting the books' much as a child when we ask him why he sends voice messages#or voice Transcriptions ig. ykwim. and like. *braces for impact* ...i liked it? like. it doesn't feel right to call it endearing#i'm not trying to infantilize him. ok that's not the right word either but ugh. you know? what i mean?? who am i kidding even i don't know#it's not quite right to say that it feels like Representation either. but it's something close i guess#as a southern person myself who didn't receive a 'complete' education due to factors that weren't to do with my intelligence#the concept of seeing him as a capable force to be reckoned with and respected who also happens to have not received much formal education#i like that. i do. but there's so many issues w it at the same time. like. as i said‚ being southern myself has me Wary of the way Hoyo is-#writing him. as well as of the way that the fandom is taking the bits of his lore and running away w them. and i'm Very aware of how ppl-#will see a southern character and be All Too Eager to agree that they're lacking intelligence based on our Redneck™ stereotype#sigh. and before we even go too far with this. it's not even confirmed that hes completely illiterate. which is a valid criticism i've seen#there's Multiple reasons that could make him prefer voice to text. but regardless. i'm just worried that ppl will misconstrue my intentions#like. example: that edit i made the other day of him saying 'no thanks i can't read'. wasn't me playing into the stereotype of-#'haha dumb country boy can't read!' it was. in my eyes. something he'd say as a joke to make light of a potential insecurity#like. i think there's far more depth to Boothill's character if ppl could look past the surface. and i dont wanna contribute to the problem#but sometimes ppl Will have stereotypical traits and i wish the same could apply to characters as long as it's done Thoughtfully.
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I think I may be a very boring person bc everyone I know has really off the wall monstery nightmares and listen. ALL my bad dreams are about anxiety from real world fears. I can IMAGINE a scary monster but I'm not sure I've ever DREAMED one.
My bad dream last night was about confronting two girls outside the supermarket for shouting insults at me and my partner and ending up getting chased with a knife then having to grab a cactus to get inside then bring late for something then getting filmed in a public place by Andrew Tate making tiktoks about the degeneracy of modern women. it was very anxious and painful and in the dream Sam was mad with me for getting us chased and hurt and late.
(but it's ok bc I said "aren't you meant to be in a Romanian prison" and smashed all 3 of Andrew Tate's phones very satisfyingly with no repercussions, and after that Sam cheered up and we had a lovely evening inventing a hipster cafe)
but the thing is this is all my Bad Dreams, like, not the ones with the most fucked up stuff happening but the ones that upset me the most and make me wake up all upscuttled. it's all stuff like I Am In A Car I Cannot Drive and I'm Late For Important Things and I Am On A Long Distance Mode Of Public Transport And I Am Trying To Physically Murder My Sibling and I Am In An Awkward Social Situation.
this has always been the flavour of most of my Distressing Dreams and I worry that this is final proof that I'm cripplingly Sensible.
#my most recent Wake Up In Misery dream before this one was an extended sequence where i was at a party#that my ex was also unexpectedly at#and i was having serious trauma responses but also didn't want to be rude and when i tried to quietly excuse myself#the person having the party made a huge thing about it and about me being super unfair to the ex and how he's a really good guy#distressing? yes. interesting? no. THAT'S JUST A THING THAT HAPPENS SOMETIMES.#like BRAIN. LEARN ABOUT METAPHORS.#dreams are meant to be METAPHORS for the anxieties you have not just STRAIGHT UP THE THING YOU'RE ANXIOUS ABOUT#i do have a special second kind of nightmare which is a lot weirder and is called Something Is Outside#I've only had 2.5 versions of this dream i remember vividly though#and one was the scariest fucking thing in my life but it was also. INCREDIBLY NORMAL?#i was sleeping on my friends sofa both in real and in the dream and in my dream i woke up and the was a girl in a red t-shirt outside#and i KNEW she wanted to get in. and in the dream i remembered having seen her earlier in the day outside my friend's mum's window#and she was just a normal person but for some reason i was absolutely TERRIFIED of her seeing me or coming inside#woke myself up so freaked out i couldn't sleep all night#and then there was the one where i was in a house that became underwater and a giant kitten with searchlight eyes was outside.#that one WAS very weird but unusually so#red said
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Having a bit of a Magazine Renaissance in my search for Animal-Magazines, and I couldn't be happier....... 👀
#trying not to think about missing the chance to get an issue of 'jackie' with an article about the alan price set in it too much aGGghgh#iT WILL BE BACK I'M SURE OF IT#anyway..... eeeee animal#literally right after i receive that issue of 'mersey beat' the same seller lists THIS. AND I EXPLODE.#BOUGHT IT RIGHT AWAY. I LOVE HAVING A JOB THAT WAY I CAN ARCHIVE INFORMATION ABOUT THE ANIMALS#not only on the front cover with a photo i've never seen before bUT WITH AN ENTIRE CENTERFOLD ARTICLE EEEEEE#alan in a chair....... practically leaning against eric...... help help help i will cry#i can't tell what's happening with john in the crease he looks like an analog horror character#very very VERY excited for this.....#there are some other mags i'm eyeing too... some issues of 'NME' and another 'Melody Maker' with alan on the front#and there is an issue of 'jackie' with an alan article that's soooo good... talking about things he does to improve his mental health 🥹🥹🥹#GOSHHHH I LOVE!! COLLECTING MAGAZINES ABOUT THEM!!#there's so little information shared about the animals and especially alan from the actual 60s... just lots of recent and bitter interviews#THERE'S SO MUCH UNDERSTANDING AND POSITIVITY IN THESE. especially the more music-oriented ones that aren't teen-gossip-heavy#crazy how this particular issue is from just a month before alan left the band.... gOSH WHAT WILL HE SAY?? 😭🙏#the animals#british invasion#60s rock#not a second mag#that picture is going to be my new banner icon once i scan a higher quality version of it#ALAN. IN THE CHAIR.
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Magic Stick
Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset
Admin note: idea by anon
Contains: Big dick JK, handjob, some boobplay, missionary, riding, reader expresses that she is uncertain if it will fit, it takes some time getting it fully in ;), reader whimpers a bit, JK’s ex cheated on him, jk cums a lot
—
“What’s wrong with you?” You glanced over to your best friend, he has been in a horrible mood for a week and no one knew why. Not even your mutual friends knew what was up with Jungkook.
”It’s nothing.” He mumbled in response.
“Come on, I can tell something is bothering you.” You pushed.
"Fine. My girlfriend broke up with me.” He finally cracked.
"Wait, what?” You stood from the dining table, and inched closer to Jungkook who was sitting on the sofa. “Why’d she do that?" You question, shocked by the sudden news. "You two seemed so happy. What happened?"
"She… she was cheating on me.” He confessed.
"Are you fucking kidding me? What a bitch." You really couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“Don’t blame her, I guess.” Jungkook said and shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't be silly. You’re too forgiving." You sighed.
"It's not that. The sex, my size— it just never worked out in bed. It was never a good fit." Jungkook confessed, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"So, you're saying, she dumped you ‘cause of your dick size? The fuck? That's just shallow. Why would she do that?" You sat next to him.
"Yeah, it didn’t fit, literally. I’d hurt her, it wasn’t going to work out from the start. We tried a few times, but the whole experience was just awful. I guess she couldn't stand it anymore." He said, defeated.
“That doesn't make any sense, surely you aren’t that big? Are you sure she’s not just making excuses?” You couldn’t believe his ex would end things with him over his size.
"No, I am that big." Jungkook replied.
"Really?" You were skeptical.
"I've always had a big dick." He added.
"Show me."
"What?"
"Show me." You repeated. “I just want to know if you’re bullshitting or not.”
"No." He declined, looking at you as if you said the most ridiculous thing ever, clearly embarrassed by your request.
"Oh, come oooon, we are best friends. It’s not like I’ve never seen a dick before in my life." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to judge you, I promise. Just let me see."
"Fine." Jungkook sighed. "But… I’m not hard now.” He muttered.
“Will my boobs make you hard?“
“Hell yeah. You got great tits." He said, a bit too enthusiastic, as if he had been dreaming of the day you’d offer your tits in return to see his cock. You stood right in front of him, loosening the straps of your halter top. His mouth was slightly open, as he looked at you, completely mesmerized. You removed the straps from your shoulders and let the shirt fall to your tummy, revealing your breasts.
"Like what you see?" You teased.
"Yeah. Very much." He was nearly drooling at the sight.
"Want to touch them?"
"Fuck, yeah." He nodded, eager. You stepped closer and his hands were instantly on you. Squeezing your breasts, rubbing his thumbs on your nipples, taking it all in. When he was done caressing your tits with his hands, he started to suck and lick on them, at which you moaned softly, and the sound of it made him rock hard. He was definitely huge, you could see the tent forming on his pants.
"Are you sure you want to see it? It's… quite big." He was almost apologetic, as if his huge dick was some sort of inconvenience for others.
“I do, show me already.” You chuckled, not sure what he was being shy for.
"Okay." He nodded, unbuckling his belt, and lowering his jeans, together with his boxers.
Holy shit.
How was a dick that big even possible? You didn't even think that dicks like that actually existed. And it wasn't just long, but also thick. No wonder his ex broke up with him. You were pretty sure that dick wouldn't fit anywhere.
"Wow." You couldn't believe your eyes.
"Told you. It's big. You wouldn’t believe me." He shrugged.
"Can I touch it?" You asked, still unable to avert your eyes.
"If you want." He agreed, a little surprised but not put off by the idea.
You grabbed his dick and slowly moved your hand up and down his length, marveling at how big and heavy it was, how thick. His cock was truly impressive, and it seemed to get even bigger as you stroked him. You wondered what it would be like to take him.
“Wow. This is amazing. How can you fit this inside a girl?" You were truly impressed, and couldn't help but keep stroking his cock.
"I can't." He admitted, his breathing starting to quicken. “No girl can take it, they always start out confident but when it’s actually in… they can't take it. Not even halfway through. I have never met a girl that can take me all the way, even the ones that brag about having experience are not able to." He sounded dejected.
"I bet I can." You challenged him.
"No. You can't. There's no way." He scoffed. All of the girls said the exact same thing, and it never worked out, ever.
“Want to bet? If I can’t take it, I’ll give you 200 bucks.” You said, not convinced by his pessimism.
"200 dollars? That's a lot of money." He said, surprised by your proposal, but he shrugged. “But alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
—
"Are you sure about this?" He asked, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
“If you ask me one more time… I will leave." You said, annoyed.
"Sorry. Just don’t want to hurt you." He apologized with a defeated sigh. It made you feel bad for getting annoyed, but Jungkook really had nothing to worry about.
You got this.
Jungkook held onto his cock as he pushed the head of it against your slick pussy lips. Your body tensed a bit, but he took his time, working on you slowly. You breathed deeply and relaxed, spreading your legs further as his shaft dragged against your sensitive skin. His cock was so hard and thick that it rubbed against every single inch of your folds.
Jungkook continued to move his hips back and forth, his errection dragging against your clit with each thrust. The sensation was amazing, and your body was trembling in pleasure, and he wasn’t even in yet.
The tip poked against your lower belly as he continued to rub the shaft against your pussy, his hips moving slow and steady.
“Want it.” You whined.
“Yeah?” He whispered.
"Yeah."
He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing the head against it. You tilted your head back, fuck, that was only the head, how could you feel this full already?
Jungkook began to slide his cock into your wet, aching pussy. His cock was stretching you out so wide, it felt incredible. He stopped when the head was all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust. Jungkook slowly pushed his cock deeper inside you, inch by inch. You could feel his cock filling up every inch of you, the stretch and pressure so intense, it was almost too much.
"Shit, you’re stretching me so good…” You moaned, as his cock kept going deeper.
"How are you taking it so well? I can't believe you can take it this far, pussy takes big cock so good, baby." He pushed in more, eager to fill you with every inch.
You couldn't speak, the sensations were overwhelming. It felt like your pussy was being stretched to its limits, and there was a pressure deep inside you that made your mind go blank.
Jungkook's cock was buried all the way inside you now. You were filled up completely, and it was the most amazing feeling you'd ever experienced.
"Don’t move,” It felt as if he would rip you in two if he pulled out even a little bit. "Not yet. Give me a minute." You whimpered, as you adjusted to his length and girth.
Jungkook nodded, kissing your neck, his hands cupping your breasts.
“This is how pussy feels, huh? Fuck, this is amazing. So tight, warm, perfect." He whispered against your ear, as he kept his dick deep inside. “It’s like my cock is being choked and squeezed, so good.”
“Told you… I could take it.” You said in a shaky breath, sitting up only to peek at where your bodies were joined, impressed to see how your body managed to take that monster cock in.
“You can move now." You gave him permission.
Jungkook started to move his hips back and forth.
The pressure from his dick was too intense, it felt like you were being split open, and you thought you were going to pass out from how good it felt. You held in your breath, unable to moan as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cock stretching you wide.
Whereas you were silent, Jungkook was grunting, groaning, panting, moaning, he couldn’t contain his pleasure. Jungkook was overwhelmed by the feeling of being buried deep inside you. His thrusts were slow and deep, his cock pushing against your inner walls, massaging them.
You opened your eyes and glanced at his face, he looked like he was in ecstasy, his mouth was open and he was moaning with every thrust.
His cock felt incredible, so big, so deep.
You had never felt anything like it before.
"I can't believe I'm fucking a pussy that can take my whole cock. Shit, it feels amazing. Pussy is so tight and wet. So fucking good. Never felt anything like it. Fuck!” Jungkook licked his bottom lip, picking up the pace.
Jungkook was pounding you now, his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, hitting all the right spots. Fuck, you were seeing stars, your whole body was on fire.
You couldn't stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. You spread your legs as far as you possible could, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you. Jungkook continued his relentless rhythm, his thrusts were hard and fast, the sounds of his cock slamming into your pussy filled the room.
The feeling of his dick filling you up was indescribable, it was pure bliss.
“Want to ride you, want to sit on that cock." You needed to feel in control, and you wanted him to watch you as you sat on his massive dick.
Jungkook pulled out and laid down on the bed, his dick standing straight up, and you couldn’t wait to take it all again.
You straddled his hips, hovering above his erection and you slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock, gasping as it slid into you, the pressure and friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.
Jungkook's hands were on your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock. He was thrusting his hips upward, matching your rhythm, driving his dick even deeper into you.
"God, you look so hot riding my cock. Never would’ve thought to see this.” He bit his lip, his eyes roaming over your body.
"So big…” All you could think of was how his cock felt inside of you, how shallow it might sound… you couldn’t even think of the person attached to it.
Jungkook was now holding onto your hips, pulling you down harder onto his dick. His thrusts were strong, and fast, and it felt so fucking good.
"Fuck, I can't last any longer. Gonna cum soon." His thrusts became erratic and he was moaning loudly, his whole body shaking. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him, trying to match his rhythm.
"Y/N… like that, love it just like that." He moaned, his breathing unsteady, his fingers now gripping into your thighs.
“Yes, yes…” You whispered, riding his cock, feeling your own orgasm build up inside of you.
“Ah!” Jungkook beat you to it, his body stiffened as his cum spurted inside of you, filling you up. He was gasping for air, his face was flushed, and his grip on your hips loosened, he ran his fingers through his hair as he squirted his cum deep inside of you. It was as if he had a never ending supply of cum, shooting spurt after spurt, his cock throbbing as it emptied its load inside you.
“Keep going, y/n, you didn’t come yet, I’ll stay hard, take what you need, keep going." He encouraged, his breathing still shaky, his dick was still hard, and it was pulsating inside you.
"Yeah." You whispered, continuing to bounce on his dick, the feeling of his cum inside of you and the sight of him beneath you, sweaty, breathing hard, his hair sticking to his forehead, was so incredibly sexy. The sound of your drenched in cum pussy sucking him back in was loud, his cock coated in your juices and the cum that was spilling out of you was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
You leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs as you moved up and down, faster, deeper, until you were finally climaxing, your orgasm taking over your body. Your body shook and your eyes fluttered open and shut as the warmth spread through your whole body, you had never felt anything like it before. You could feel the hot cum leaking out of you, and it just kept coming.
Your hips slowed as you rode out your orgasm, and when it was over, you collapsed onto the bed, panting.
“Jungkook?”
“Yeah?”
“You owe me 200 bucks.”
#bts smut#bts x reader#bts requests#bts smut requests#jungkook smut#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook x yn#bts smut story#bts smut reactions
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✎ to my beloved
- gojo satoru x reader
bad days don't mean the end of the world, and your husband is making sure you know that
genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, fluff, fluff—just gojo pampering you
note: my job has been so hard for me this week :') so yeah it's very self indulgent as i need a lil hurt/comfort and i think you should too~
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
This week... has been a total dumpster fire.
You were utterly exhausted, covered in grime and blood, a persisting headache made you almost black out, all while sitting in the hospital waiting room as survivor's guilt slowly consumed you.
Grueling paperwork, a new project, facing the higher-ups, being substituted to Kyoto for days, and then a sudden attack of a curse user on the loose.
In times of need, you were supposed to protect others— you are a jujutsu sorcerer.
And yet, what happened? Megumi suddenly bathed in his own blood. You barely managed to save him in time, and now you were waiting for the news that he would be okay.
Why couldn't it be you instead? You wanted to break down each time you replayed the scene that took Megumi out. It was so eerily similar to how Haibara was—
"Are you okay!?"
You whipped your head, surprised to find your husband pounding down the hall. Satoru looked unlike himself—he was disheveled, and when he saw you, he immediately dashed towards where you were.
"Satoru..." you voice came out in a croak, feeling the lump in your throat closing in. When he dropped to his knee, put both hands on the sides of your face, and then your body, feeling you over to check if you had any injuries—
You finally burst into tears.
"Sweets, hey..." Satoru immediately pulled you close, trying to soothe you. You were shaking in his arms and he tightened his arms around you. "What happened to you?"
"I-I was... w-with him..." you sobbed, burying your face in his shoulder. "S-Satoru... I-I'm sorry...! M-Megumi—"
Your husband immediately shushed you. "Shh... it's alright, yeah? He'll be okay—"
You were still inconsolable even as he held you in his embrace. He hadn't seen you like this... not ever since tragedies during your high school years ago. And he struggled to reconcile this sight of you with how you were back then.
"I-I s-should've stood in his way— t-that way, he won't be hit—" you hiccupped as you poured your heart out and clutched at his shirt. "I-It would be f-fine if it... was me—"
But all thoughts flew when he heard your words, and suddenly he felt so angry—
"What do you mean?" his voice was so low and sharp that it startled you. "How will it be fine if it was you?"
You stiffened, and Satoru gripped your shoulder, pulling away to look you right in the eyes.
"If something bad happened to you... how is it fine?" he emphasized with gritted teeth. "Where do you get that kind of bullshit from?"
Your lips were wobbling as you sniffled. "At least... i-it isn't him—"
"If you got hurt, how do you think it'll make me feel?" Satoru posed the burning question on you next, his cerulean eyes glinting with silent fury, and you almost recoiled.
"T-that's...!"
"I'll wreak havoc if anything ever happens to you." His tone was harsh and forceful. "So if you think you can just—"
"I'm tired!" you screamed then, and he was stunned, wide-eyed as he took in your outburst. "I-I'm just... I've had enough of this— this shit! I want to quit!"
You were openly weeping, and this time, Satoru felt his heart lurch. You looked so heartbroken and utterly inconsolable that his first instinct to protect you took over.
"Then quit." He rose and took a seat next to you, before cradling you closer and pressed your head against his chest. "Even if you quit, I'm still here. I can protect you well enough. I don't like you being a sorcerer anyway."
You were his beloved wife and he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be happy and smiling.
He let out a disgruntled grunt. "Did you know how I was when I heard from Ichiji that you were at the hospital? I thought I might go mad thinking something had happened to you."
You sobbed harder at his words.
"It's perfectly okay if you're tired," he affirmed, patting your back gently. "If you're fine with giving up everything, then I'm on board too. Whatever makes you happy, sweets. Just... don't think of anything that might hurt yourself. Don't think of anything that might make you leave me."
You didn't know you needed to hear it. Right at that moment, your heart swelled with warmth. All your feelings were validated, and even if you chose to let go of everything, Satoru would accept you as you are.
You felt safe, so incredibly and irrevocably secure.
"Whatever happened this time..." he breathed out, feeling the dampness in his chest, his fingers gently combing through your hair. "It's not your fault. No one will blame you. I don't blame you, and Megumi won't too."
Your sniffles quieted down a bit at his words, and your throat still felt tight, clogged with tears.
"H-he... looked s-so much like Haibara... w-when—"
"Shush, he does not. Megumi will be okay. You will too, hmm?"
And just like that, you let go of everything and surrendered your entire being into his arms.
Clinging to him, you finally believed, in whatever shape or form it might take, you would be okay.
A week later, Megumi was discharged after being cleared by the hospital. His wounds were thankfully shallow, and you cried in relief when he woke up.
And after escorting him back, later that night, you laid on top your husband...
Your weight on him felt like a comforting reassurance as he gently patted your back. Satoru couldn't help but smile when he saw how peaceful you looked, like a baby about to fall asleep.
He couldn't resist and planted a firm kiss on the crown of your head.
"Mmm?" you looked up at him, eyes fluttering open, and he cracked a grin.
"What?"
"What?"
"Can't I kiss my own wife? When she's adorable as heck too."
"You..." your lips curved into a bashful, yet exasperated smile, poking his chest in the process.
"Heh."
You drew circles on his broad and sturdy chest, noting how his arms extended and feeling how your toenails only reached a little past his knees. "Your arms and legs are ridiculously long. You are like an oversized plushie."
Satoru snickered. "Well, isn't that good? You don't have to buy them anymore. I can be your personal talking plushie."
"Ew." You hit his chest playfully, and he pushed your bum forward until you were face-to-face with him. He smooched you on the lips, and you giggled afterward.
His eyes shone as he stared at you, breaking to a smile himself. "Finally smiling. Pretty."
"Satoru..." your eyes found his, and you marveled at how sparkling they were. Seeing him so close, even after being married to him for more than a year, made your heart skip a beat. "I..."
"Hmm?"
"I want to keep being jujutsu sorcerer..." You had thought about it ever since, and you still arrived at the same conclusion. "It's true if I give up on it, you'll still keep me safe and all, but..."
Your husband waited for you to continue, still smiling, blinking expectantly.
"...this is something I have to do. I know there will be more hard days ahead, but believe it or not, I... found purpose in doing this," you said, shifting your gaze away from him. "It makes me feel... I can be useful. Even if I'm not special like you, I can still contribute in my own small way..."
How you pressed up against him, the way you looked hesitant and yet convinced at the same time... Satoru thought you were the most precious thing there was.
"Then keep going. I'll still be here too." He hugged you tight then, surprising you. "Just let me know when you feel like you need a long leave, and I'll definitely give you the solution."
"Eh? How?"
"Easy... I can just put a baby in you~ They won't deny you maternity leave or put you in missions~"
"...Satoru, you're—" You shot him a look so unamused, before resigning with a sigh. "Never mind... alright, sure, whatever you say."
"Ooh! So does this mean you want to try now?!"
"—? No, not now yet—!"
"When? We have to try one of these days before some meddlesome aunties ask us when we will have kids!"
Being sillies like this made you so glad that you had him in your life, and that you married him. And if he felt the same way as you... then you really thanked the stars for it.
You huffed, yet wrapping your arms around him in return. "Satoru, you're a clown."
"Your personal clown, you mean. Right~"
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader fluff#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo satoru imagines#dad!gojo#jjk gojo satoru#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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Girl, Interrupted
summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?
wc: 1.8k
cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else
a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet
Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.
Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.
“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”
Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.
“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”
“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”
Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”
Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”
You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.
“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.
“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”
“Did you think of showing her?”
“Showing her what?”
“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”
Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that.”
“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”
You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”
Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.
“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.
Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”
“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”
You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”
“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”
Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”
“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”
You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.
“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”
“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”
Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.
You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.
The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.
He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.
He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.
He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”
You nodded emphatically.
“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”
“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”
“Atta girl.”
You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.
“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.
Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.
He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.
“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.
Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.
He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”
“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.
“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.
“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”
“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”
“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.
“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”
“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”
“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”
“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.
Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”
Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.
“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.
You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.
“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.
“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”
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Nom Nom
Synopsis: After what seems like years of asking, your boyfriend has finally allowed you to bite his tiddies.
Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader
Genre: suggestive, mini-series, established relationship
Rating: suggestive/mature
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: biting, marking, nipple play, dry humping, lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: This is kind of a continuation of the boyfriend texts post, but it's not really necessary to read it! It will help with some context though!
Thank you so much to @seokgyuu for beta reading!
Tagging @brownsugarbaybee as usual!
This feels very on-brand for me.
Read the sequel: Nom Nom: The Revenge
Click here to join my taglist!
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
You giggle to yourself as you enter your shared apartment. You can't believe Seungcheol actually agreed to it; after what seems like months of asking, he's finally agreed to let you bite his tiddies. Although you had to admit you were only joking when you asked him those 500 or so times, you were actually kind of excited to finally have this opportunity.
As you enter the living room, you find Seungcheol seated on the couch in an oversized hoodie with a pout plastered on his face. You look at him quizzically as you approach him.
"I thought I asked you to be prepped and ready on the bed," you huff, half-joking with him.
He looks up at you with wide eyes, his pout somehow deepening. "You were actually serious about that?" he asks, exasperated.
"Of course I was serious," you scoff. "When am I ever not serious?"
"Pretty much all the time," he huffs. You let out a small "hey" and playfully hit his shoulder.
"Now stop dilly-dallying and go lie down on the bed," you demand, crossing your arms. He lets out a whine and wraps his arms around your torso, snuggling his face into your abdomen.
"Princess," he whines, then looks up at you with puppy eyes. "Please don't do this to me," he pleads.
"Nope, not happening. No amount of whining and pouting is getting you out of this Cheollie. It's too late now. You already agreed to it," you look down at him and grin. He groans and hides his face in your abdomen.
"Now chop chop. Or else no kisses for a week," you state. His head jerks up, and his eyes widen.
"No kisses for a week?!" He exclaims.
"Princess, you can't do this to me!" He complains.
"I can and I will," you huff. "Now hurry up!"
With a final grumble, he reluctantly lets go of you and stands up.
"Please let Cheollie go," he pouts and cups your face.
"Cheollie is about to get his ass whooped if he doesn't get on the bed within the next five seconds," you sarcastically grin.
Shoulders slumping at his last ditch effort, he makes his way to the bedroom with you closely following behind.
He sits on the bed, fidgeting with his fingers while staring at the floor. You giggle at how shy he seems.
"Well, what're you waiting for? Strip," you smirk.
He looks at you with a pout, a blush dusting his cheeks as he slowly reaches for the hem of his hoodie. He slowly pulls off his hoodie and quickly covers his chest with his arms, causing you to laugh. Your boyfriend, who was usually dominant in bed, is now acting like a shy virgin; you can't help but laugh at his actions.
"Stop laughing," he whines, blushing harder.
"I can't help it," you giggle. "You're acting like I've never seen you naked before."
"Well, it feels weird, okay?" He grumbles with a pout.
You can't help but coo at him. You move to straddle his lap and cup his blushing face.
"I promise I'll be gentle. You can ask me to stop anytime," you whisper. You lean in to gently kiss him as reassurance that you won't do anything he's uncomfortable with.
"Now, lean against the headboard," you murmur. You get off his lap to allow him to lean against the headboard and get comfortable.
Once he's comfortable, you straddle his waist and start leaving wet kisses along his jaw, helping him relax. You smile to yourself when you feel him slowly relax under you.
Slowly making your way to his lips, you capture them into a passionate kiss, moaning at the feeling of his tongue against yours. You lightly grind against him, causing him to groan into your mouth.
You pull away from him, both of you panting. He looks incredible beneath you, his eyes dazed, lips swollen, and breathless. You shift to leave kisses down his neck, your teeth grazing against his skin.
You hear his breath hitch when you reach his chest. They feel so firm beneath you that you can’t resist moving your hands to squeeze them.
"Princess," he groans.
"God, I love how firm your chest feels," you whine, squeezing him harder.
You lean down to lick one of his nipples, causing him to shut his eyes and moan out loud.
"F-Fuck princess," he groans as you start sucking on the bud.
He throws his head back and shuts his eyes when he feels your teeth lightly digging into his skin. You start sucking on the bud, causing him to let out a string of curses. After finishing marking the bud, you move on to the other one, giving it equal attention. He lets out a loud groan when you pinch his puffed-up nipple. You feel his bulge growing as he ruts against you.
"Feel good Cheollie?" You purr after sitting up to look at him.
"Feels so good princess," he moans, eyes screwed shut.
You grin, then lean down to start marking his chest. He lets out a long groan and arches his back. Small pants and moans escape his lips as your marks get deeper and rougher. Blotches of red and purple slowly bloom across his chest, painting it with your mark. His hips jerk up, and a whimper escapes his lips when you bite down particularly hard.
Enjoying his reactions, you continue to abuse his chest, savouring every moment. You lean back to take a minute and cherish your work. You beam when you see his chest covered in bruises, bites, and saliva.
"Look at me Cheollie," you purr. He opens his eyes to look at you, his eyes blown out and a fucked out expression on his face.
"Are you alright baby?" You murmur, caressing his flushed cheeks. He nods breathlessly, the corner of his lips lifting up into a fucked out smile.
Just then, an idea strikes you, and you smirk before leaning in close to his ear.
"I'm going to mark you with my initials," you purr. "After all, an artist has to sign their painting to show who it belongs to, right baby?" You giggle. You feel his dick twitch at your words.
"You like that Cheollie? You like being marked by me?" You smirk. He lets out a soft whimper and grinds against you, causing you to let out a giggle.
"I am an artist, and you are my canvas baby," you whisper before shifting back to his chest.
You lean down and begin biting and sucking the skin, marking your initials into his left chest cause it's closer to his heart, making sure they take up most of the space. You have to show him and everyone else who belongs in his heart, of course. You hear him moan and groan under you, his hands on your hips to keep you steady. After embedding your initials into his skin, you sit up and admire your handiwork.
You look down and pout, still unsatisfied with your work, feeling like something was missing. That's when it hits you; you giggle as you lean back down to encapsulate your initials with a heart.
"Princess, what—" his question is abruptly cut off by a moan as you bite down harder than usual, silently asking him to simply let you do what you want.
You sit up after finishing the heart, finally satisfied with your work.
"So pretty Cheollie," you purr as you gently trace your fingers across your artwork. "I need to take a picture."
"A picture?" he asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face.
"Of course! I need to forever encapsulate my masterpiece after all," you giggle. You shift to reach for your phone on the side table, causing him to groan.
"Princess, you're killing me here," he mutters.
"Hush! I'm busy taking pretty pictures of my pretty man," you grin as you proceed to take multiple pictures of him.
Your words make him blush, and you squeal, thrilled that the pictures are turning out even better than you expected. He looks so pretty with your mark on him, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes dazed. You're definitely going to use them as your wallpaper for a while.
"Enough," he growls, snatching your phone and tossing it back onto the table. You let out a gasp when he suddenly flips you over, him now on top of you.
"I've let you have your fun, but now it's my turn."
#kvanity#thediamondlifenetwork#k-labels#svthub#missing daddy cheol hours#scoups x reader#scoups x y/n#scoups x you#scoups scenarios#scoups imagines#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol scenarios#choi seungcheol x you#choi seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol fic#choi seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#svt x y/n#svt x you#svt x reader#svt fanfic#choi seungcheol smut#seungcheol smut#scoups smut#seventeen smut#svt smut
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The Hardest Question Ever ASSked
Le Sserafim Chaewon, Kazuha and Yunjin x male reader smut
Is this the worst writing I've ever produced? Yep. Do I care? No. At least I warned you.
Masterlist word count: 5,851 Kofi(donations/commissions)
"So, which one of these two do you think has the best ass?"
Yunjin has this penchant for asking the most inappropriate questions at the most random of times. The conversation was in a whole different place; Chaewon was explaining why the second Harry Potter film is by far the best one when suddenly...
"Oh my god," Kazuha immediately covers her eyes, sinking her head into her hands.
"What?" Yunjin blinks with innocence.
Chaewon can only groan in response. She sometimes wonders what goes on inside the minds of her group members, especially after that time Yunjin casually asked to compare their favourite toys (and now she is struggling to get the mental image of Yunjin slipping in a butt plug each morning out of her head. Apparently she has a whole range of sizes) but still, it feels like their constant effort to test how far they can go with each other has no end in sight.
"We all have pretty nice butts," Chaewon adds, the need to fill the awkward silence quickly becoming dire.
"Boring answer," Yunjin turns up her nose and pouts. Then her eyes fall on you. "Come on, you spend more than enough time staring, which is it?" she teases.
And look, you have thoughts, of course you do, but you're too coy to spill them out into the open for these three to scrutinize. So you joke, "We all know it's me." Only Kazuha laughs—that girl laughs at your every word.
Yunjin narrows her eyes, her attention like a hungry lion's before its prey. She asks in a challenging tone, "Why are you avoiding the question?"
You have learned very quickly that a game you can never win is against Yunjin, that woman is relentless with her prodding, so you change strategies. "What does it matter who has the nicest ass? Asses are so subjective."
"Stop being so political."
Chaewon senses blood in the water and joins in on pushing you for an answer, "Okay, so, subjectively, which one do you like the most?"
You slump back into your chair as the three girls sit forward expectantly. Yunjin is directly across from you, wrapping her lips around the straw for her coffee as she stares through you, practically daring you to bullshit her with a non-answer. Chaewon is wide-eyed on your right, and Kazuha still has her hand nervously over her mouth.
You have an answer, you know which one you like the most. But you also know that as soon as you say it, the other might kill you.
So, you pick the one that will give the best reaction. See, Chaewon is competitive, right down to the bone. Meaning that when you answer, "Kazuha," she looks about ready to burst a blood vessel.
"What!" she spits, the other two girls bursting into laughter. "I'm the one with the best ass!"
Kazuha has this whole smug look going on, it's not one she uses often, but to tease Chaewon? You don't blame her.
"Oh yeah, you think that's funny? I'll show you whose ass is the best," Chaewon threatens.
"It must be all the squats," Yunjin chimes in.
"Shut up," Chaewon growls at her.
Kazuha leans back in her chair and shrugs, "No need to be jealous. Yours is great too, Chaewon. You work really hard, and it shows."
"Don't try to suck up now, Kazuha."
You watch the whole exchange in silence. This is what happens almost every time Yunjin calls you over to have lunch, and it is always an entertaining time.
"Alright, so what about thighs? Which ones are the best?" Yunjin continues.
"Kazuha," you answer, and Kazuha is practically glowing, "I mean, have you seen how toned her thighs are?"
You turn to Chaewon, a smirk on your face so evil, "Sorry, Chae."
"Alright! That's it!" Chaewon shouts, jumping up from her chair, her eyes burning with determination. Her hands are at the waist of her jeans, popping open the button. "If you won't admit mine are the best, I'll have to prove it to you."
Yunjin sighs, her hand on her chin, and she shakes her head. "Here we go again."
You can feel yourself blush a bit, the way you always do when this happens, even though the four of you have had these lunches dozens of times, and Chaewon has always tried to show off her body at some point. She wiggles her jeans off her hips, sliding them down to reveal her black, lacy thong.
"Well?" she poses, turning to the side to show off her ass, "What about now?"
You are certain the three of you are all thinking the same thing—her body is unbelievable—but nobody is going to stroke her ego like that.
"Oh yeah, definitely Kazuha's," you shrug, trying not to let your gaze linger.
"What?!"
It draws a loud laugh from Yunjin, who's hitting the palm of her hand against her thigh as she wheezes. Kazuha, who is usually the shy one of the bunch, can't help but join in on the laughter.
"Fuck you," Chaewon snaps at you, "And fuck you too!" She turns on her heel and points at Kazuha.
Kazuha is still laughing, and she has her head turned away from Chaewon, but you can see her smile grow wider. She's teasing, "Oh come on, Chaewon, it's okay. You look cute."
"I'll show you cute," Chaewon growls, her hand coming down hard on the table. It makes the cutlery rattle, and the three of you glance between yourselves before a shared giggle bubbles up again.
You look up at Chaewon, who has a scowl on her face. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and her jaw is tense. She has one hand on her hip, her fingers digging into her skin, and the other is gripping the table so hard that her knuckles have gone white. Her body is stiff, the only movement being the rise and fall of her chest. Her face is flushed, either with embarrassment or frustration or both, and her lips are parted, letting her breaths pass through.
Her skin is smooth and soft, and when she moves, you can see the muscles ripple under it. She's so lean, so slender, but there's an undeniable strength behind her.
"What, got something to say?" Chaewon bites, noticing your stare.
"Uh," you fumble, your eyes flitting down her body before shooting up to her face again. "Just, um," you clear your throat, trying to shake yourself out of this trance, "Are you gonna leave your jeans off?"
"Until you realise how wrong you are, yes."
"Okay," you chuckle, then return to sipping on your drink.
"So, are we going to go through the rest of the list? Boobs? Which one's the best?" Yunjin can barely speak for her stifled laughter.
Chaewon huffs, then folds her arms across her chest. She pushes her tits together, the low-cut t-shirt working wonders to showcase her cleavage. "Mine," she states proudly.
"Kazuha."
"I can't with you two," Chaewon whines. "What the fuck?"
"You can't win against me," Kazuha says simply.
Chaewon's glare switches between the three of you. She looks like a wild animal ready to pounce. A dangerous, sexy, wild animal.
"You're all fucking useless," she mutters under her breath, turning on her heel. "I'll be right back."
You watch as she stomps off in her underwear and boots, leaving the three of you alone.
"That was fun," Yunjin smirks, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. She looks at you and says, "You've got a mean streak. I love it."
"I just like riling her up," you smirk.
"I noticed."
Kazuha giggles, then takes another sip from her cup. You can't help but watch her. Her dark hair is tied up in a messy bun, and even without makeup, she is beautiful. There is a softness to her, an air of innocence, that you can't quite place.
"What are you looking at?" Kazuha asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing," you shrug.
"I see the way you look at her," Yunjin says with a wink. "Got you thinking about something, huh?"
"Yeah," you say, not knowing how else to respond.
"I bet it's filthy," Yunjin continues. "How long has it been since you two hooked up, again?"
"Too long," Kazuha answers.
"Oh yeah," Yunjin smiles. "Guess I've been a little greedy recently."
"Just a little," Kazuha giggles, her cheeks dusted with red.
"Stop being so shy and ask him then," Yunjin nods in your direction.
"I'm back!" Chaewon announces, turning heads.
"What the fuck are you wearing?" Yunjin asks.
It's nothing but skimpy lingerie. It's black and lacy, hugging her curves perfectly, and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her thong cuts deep between her ass cheeks, and the bra pushes her tits up, not that much is needed. The fabric is sheer, and you can see the dark peaks of her nipples through it.
She's leaning on the doorway as she speaks, "I wasn't going to half-ass it, was I?" Oh, Chaewon, even as you stand there, looking like a whole meal, you still can't resist a good pun. "So," she continues, sauntering over and leaning down, placing her hands on the table and getting in your face. "Have you come to your senses yet?"
You glance away, to look across the table at Yunjin, who's got her eyes fixed on Chaewon's ass and is telling her, "Yeah, no doubt I'm definitely kinda gay. Your butt looks amazing."
"Need more convincing?" Chaewon is looking down her nose at you, a devilish grin spreading across her face.
"More convincing," you repeat.
Chaewon steps between you and the table, pushing the arms of your chair and struggling to move it back.
"W-what are you doing?"
"Convincing." Chaewon turns to the table, puts her chest flat against it and arches her back, giving you the most brazen display. "Is it working?"
"It's..."
"Working," Yunjin finishes for you as she stands up to admire the view.
You take a moment to appreciate her, the way she's bent over the table, the way her ass looks so round and perfect. The way her thighs are toned and muscular, and the way they press together, gives her just a little more shape. You want to touch her, to reach out and run your hands along her smooth skin.
"I'd let her sit on my face," Yunjin whispers as if she could read your mind.
"Oh yeah, for sure," Kazuha adds.
"Would you two shut up? I'm trying to get my point across."
"Don't let us stop you."
Chaewon lets out an irritated sigh, then gets up and sits herself down in your lap. Her hips roll forward, and you can feel her warmth. You can't help yourself, you slip a hand around her waist and rest it on her stomach.
"Do you like this?" Chaewon asks, her voice low and seductive. She leans back, letting her head rest against your shoulder, her breath hot on your ear. "How about this?" She shifts her hips, grinding her ass against your crotch. You bite back a moan, your fingers digging into her flesh.
"You know," Yunjin says, watching as Chaewon continues to rub her ass against you, "We could have a lot more fun with this."
"What do you mean?" Kazuha asks, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
"Well," Yunjin's eyes flick over to meet yours. "If you're not gonna fight for your spot, our friend here might change his mind. How about a competition?"
"Competition?" Chaewon repeats.
"I'm talking a showdown," Yunjin explains, a wide grin on her face. Chaewon is staring blankly at her, and Yunjin rolls her eyes. "Ass vs ass. Who's got the better booty?"
"I'm in," Chaewon immediately agrees.
"What?" Kazuha squeaks.
"Oh, come on. You're not going to back down, are you?"
"No, I'm not," Kazuha states, standing up.
"You don't have to do this," you tell them.
"Shut up," Chaewon shoots back, a smirk on her face.
"Let's settle this once and for all," Yunjin declares. She pulls the table away, leaving you in the middle of the dining room with Chaewon on your knee. She pulls Kazuha to her feet and stands in front of her. Their eyes are locked on each other, both looking nervous. You can't take your eyes off them, especially when Yunjin slides her hands down Kazuha's abs. "First, let's catch you up, get you out of these clothes.
Yunjin hooks her fingers into the waistband of Kazuha's jeans and starts to pull them down, revealing the soft, creamy skin of her thighs. Kazuha lifts her feet out of her shoes and pants, leaving her standing in a pair of white panties.
"Damn, girl, you look good," Yunjin purrs, running her hands along Kazuha's thighs, squeezing the soft flesh.
Meanwhile, Chaewon turns her attention to you, first by pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside, then moving on to undoing the buttons on your pants. You're already achingly hard, from having her ass grinding against you, her hands on you, and her scent filling your nostrils. She stands up and steps back, allowing you to stand and drop your pants, then step out of them, leaving you only in your boxers.
"Looks like someone is ready," she teases, looking at the bulge.
You blush, embarrassed, but you can't help the way your cock twitches at her words.
"Alright," Yunjin calls.
The two girls are standing side by side now. Yunjin has sat you down and is standing behind you, her hands on your shoulders, her breath hot on the back of your neck. She's looking between the two girls, taking in their bodies, her eyes filled with lust. Kazuha is biting her lip, her hands clasped together in front of her, her body stiff.
"First, let's see who can move their ass better. Show off what you've got," Yunjin commands.
Chaewon is the first to act, bending over and shaking her hips. Her ass is swaying from side to side, her hips moving in circles, and her ass jiggling with every motion. Her back is arched, her legs straight, and her thighs pressed together, giving her ass the perfect shape.
"Nice," Yunjin whistles.
Kazuha takes a deep breath. She turns to show you her ass, putting her arms above her head and swaying her hips. She doesn't have the same confidence as Chaewon, but her ass still looks great.
"Fuck yeah," Yunjin says, her hand trailing down your chest and stomach.
"You think that's good?" Chaewon huffs. "Watch this."
She backs up towards you, stopping when her ass is almost touching your crotch, and leans back, arching her back. Her ass is pushed out, the curves and lines of her body on display. She places her hands on her ass cheeks and then starts to squeeze and knead her flesh, moaning softly as she does so.
"Fuck, that's hot," Yunjin breathes.
"Don't stop," you gasp.
Kazuha has renewed fight, stepping and dropping her ass against your lap. It's all in the hips, the way she moves, and how her body rolls. It's different from Chaewon, there's a grace to it and a fluidity. She turns, looking back at you, her eyes full of fire, her lips curled into a sly smile. You know that look. It's like a switch is flicked inside her.
"Fuck," you groan, reaching out to grab her, to pull her closer.
Kazuha leans forward, her back arched, and you draw her thick ass towards your cock. Soon enough, Chaewon follows, and you become the filling of an ass sandwich.
"Oh fuck, that looks good," Yunjin says, her hand sliding beneath your waistband and grabbing your cock. She starts to stroke it, slow and steady, teasing the tip with her thumb. But, as their assets draw closer, Yunjin is forced to relinquish, the girls taking hold of your cock between their asses, and rubbing their cheeks against you.
"Ahh, fuck, that's so fucking hot," you moan.
"Yeah, baby, you like that?" Yunjin purrs in your ear.
"God yes," you breathe, your head falling back against her chest.
Chaewon laughs, a smug sound, "He's definitely loving mine."
"In your dreams," Kazuha hisses.
"What was that?"
"I said," Kazuha pushes her ass, to slide your length between her cheeks, rubbing along the fabric of her thong, "He likes my ass more."
"I don't think so," Chaewon shoots back, fighting for position. The girls are ass to ass, cheeks squishing against each other. Your cock is caught between them, and they both start to rock their hips, the friction making you hiss.
"You're both driving me crazy," you moan.
"Yeah?" Chaewon smirks.
"How about this," Kazuha adds, her hips moving faster, and her ass squeezing tighter. It's all matched and challenged by Chaewon, who's moving her hips, and rocking her ass, and doing everything she can to keep up.
This whole thing is fucking ludicrous, don't get it twisted. This is the most insane thing you have ever seen, or done. Two gorgeous women, two insanely sexy asses, both fighting for a chance to prove that theirs is the best. And you're right there, between them, your cock assaulted by the most amazing sensation.
"How are we going to settle this?" Chaewon growls, her ass grinding hard against your cock.
"I'm not stopping until he cums," Kazuha shoots back, her ass moving even faster.
"Me either," Chaewon huffs.
"Wait, wait, stop," you gasp, to no avail. The girls just keep on grinding, keep on rocking, keep on fighting.
"Shh," Yunjin purrs, her hands roaming your chest, and her lips ghosting across the back of your neck. "Let them have their fun."
You moan, your body tense, your cock throbbing between their asses. The girls are panting, their breath heavy, and their bodies slick with sweat. Their skin is hot, their bodies flushed, and their hearts pounding.
"He's getting close," Chaewon smirks, "I can feel it."
"For me," Kazuha insists.
"I'm doing all the work," Chaewon snaps back, her hips rolling faster, and her ass pressing harder.
"Stop, fuck," you hiss, feeling your cock throb, feeling that familiar sensation rising in the pit of your stomach.
"Tell me it's for me. Cum for me, baby."
"No, for me. He's cumming for me," Kazuha shoots back.
And then, it hits. It's an explosion, your body jerking, your muscles spasming. Your head is thrown back, a groan ripped from your throat, and your hips bucking wildly.
"That's it," Chaewon smirks, looking over her shoulder. "I did it. He's cumming because of me."
"No, me," Kazuha pouts, turning her head.
You spill over them, thick, hot cum spraying all over their asses and backs, leaving sticky ropes of white across their smooth, flawless skin.
"F-fuck," you gasp, trying to catch your breath.
"Holy shit," Yunjin murmurs, "That was... fuck.
"It's mine," Chaewon says, her tone cocky and arrogant.
"No, it's mine," Kazuha growls.
The two of them continue their argument, but you can barely hear them. Your body is still recovering, your mind reeling, and your heart racing. What a fucking rush.
"Who's got the best ass? Well," Yunjin chuckles, "It's a tie if you ask me."
"A tie?" Chaewon repeats.
"Yeah, a tie."
"Well, I'm not calling it a tie," Kazuha says.
"Me either," Chaewon huffs, standing upright and glaring at the other woman.
"You're both pretty great," Yunjin states, her hand on your shoulder.
"Kazuha is great, me? I'm perfect."
"Okay," Yunjin sighs. "There's still something he needs to test. You can't decide on the best ass without fucking them both."
"What?" Chaewon and Kazuha gasp at the same time.
"You get five minutes each, then swap. First to make him cum is the winner."
"Deal," Chaewon and Kazuha say simultaneously, their gazes burning into each other.
"Well then," Yunjin says, standing up. "Over the table girls."
You're still fucking out of it. Slumped in the chair while Yunjin guides them over the table, bent at the waist and presenting their asses to you. The girls are draped in your cum, and Yunjin has the task of plucking off their underwear, leaving them bare and naked. Then she comes and pulls you to your feet, positioning you behind Chaewon.
"Cum in whichever feels the best, okay? Wait here a minute." Yunjin runs off to the bedroom, giving Chaewon a chance to bargain with you.
"Come on, you know I've got the better ass. And you know what it can do for you. Just think of all the other times you've fucked my ass. Don't tell me you want Kazuha's ass instead?"
"Uh," you mumble.
"Oh come on," she wiggles her ass, "Look at this."
"Sorry," Yunjin says, reappearing with a bottle in her hand. "Gotta do this right." Yunjin takes a blob of lube in her hand and rubs it onto your cock. It's cold, and it makes you shudder. Then she takes some and rubs it onto Chaewon's ass.
"Fuck," she squeaks, her body trembling.
"Ready?" Yunjin asks.
"Y-yeah."
"Five minutes, go!"
Yunjin pushes you by the hips toward Chaewon, not that you need any encouragement to slip your length between her cheeks.
"That's it, fuck me. Come on, baby. Let's see whose ass feels better."
It's slow to begin, pushing your way into her little asshole. She's still so tight, and even with the added slick, it takes a bit of effort. But she's warm and snug around your cock, and her ass is perfect.
"Fuck, I forgot how big you were," she moans, her voice strained.
"She can't even take it," mocks Kazuha.
"Shut up, I can," Chaewon bites back. "Go on, deeper."
Yunjin has her hand on your hip, guiding you deeper and deeper until you bottom out. Her ass is pressed right against your hips, and she's whimpering. You give her a few moments to adjust before starting to move, pulling out slowly, then pushing back in. You're stretching her out, forcing her to accommodate your length, and her hole is clenching around you.
"Fuck, I love the feeling of your cock," she gasps.
"We all do," Kazuha says flatly.
"Not as much as I do," Chaewon pants.
"Come on, you can fuck her faster," Yunjin whispers in your ear.
So you pick up the pace, your hips moving, and your cock thrusting deep into her. She's moaning and writhing beneath you, her ass shaking with every impact, her body trembling. You can't stop yourself, you're pounding her hard, slamming your cock deep inside her. The cum on her cheeks is smeared, making the sight even more filthy.
"Shit," she groans, her ass bouncing back against your hips.
You're lost in her, fucking her hard and fast, making her take every inch of you. You're grunting, your balls slapping against her skin, and your cock stretching her hole. You're losing control, the sounds of your fucking filling the room.
"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," she moans.
"You're such a slut," Kazuha hisses.
"Oh fuck," Chaewon cries, her ass clenching around your cock, her body convulsing, and her pussy dripping. "Oh my god, fuck," she screams, her whole body tensing, and her eyes rolling back.
"Holy shit," you gasp, your cock throbbing and twitching.
"Alright, time's up," Yunjin says, grabbing you and pulling you away from her.
"What the fuck, no, don't stop," Chaewon pleads.
"Swap," Yunjin demands, shoving you towards Kazuha.
You stumble forward, your cock aching and throbbing. You're still sensitive, and the sudden change has your head spinning. Yunjin covers you again with more lube and slaps your ass to let you know to begin.
Kazuha's chest is flat on the table, her cheek pressed against the wood, and her hands gripping the edge. She turns to look at you, her eyes full of silent desire. There's an arch to her back, and her ass is perfectly presented, just waiting for you to enter her.
"Take her," Yunjin whispers and her hand pushes down on your hip.
You step forward, the tip of your cock pressing against her asshole. You can see her muscles tensing, and she lets out a soft moan as you push into her. She's even tighter than Chaewon, her body squeezing and gripping your cock. She's not nearly as experienced, her reactions are more innocent.
"Oh," she gasps, her body shivering, "That's... that's really good."
You grab her hips, your fingers digging into her flesh, and you push deeper, feeling her asshole stretch and open up for you. She lets out a sharp cry, and you pause, giving her a moment to relax.
"Keep going," she pleads, her voice thick with lust.
You start to move, sliding out of her and then pushing back in. She's hot and tight around you, and her muscles are contracting, squeezing and clenching, pulling you deeper into her.
"Oh my god, it's so good," she moans.
Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is open, and her body is quivering. You keep going, thrusting harder and deeper, until you're buried in her ass. She lets out a long, low moan, and you can feel her trembling.
"She can barely take it," Chaewon laughs.
"Don't listen to her," Kazuha pleads, looking over her shoulder at you. "Just keep going, please."
You groan a response and start to pound her harder. Sticky flesh slapping together, your hands holding her steady, and her cries filling the room. You're fucking her rough, and she's taking every inch of you. It feels incredible, and the pleasure builds, your cock throbbing and aching.
"Come on, cum for me," she whines.
"Fuck, you're so sexy," you gasp, your hips bucking. Just one slap of her ass and it's marked already, red and pink from the impact.
"You're close," she whimpers.
"Keep going," Yunjin encourages. "Two minutes or they both lose."
Your whole body is trembling, and your head is spinning. Your cock is so hard and aching, and your balls are tight. Your hips are bucking, and you're fucking her with abandon, her ass taking every inch.
"Come on," she begs.
You groan, and then you're there, your whole body shuddering, and your cock pulsing and throbbing, emptying your cum into her ass. As soon as Chaewon sees that look on your face, she knows she's lost. She whines a defeated sound and slumps against the table.
Kazuha is the one smiling though, and as she stands, you notice her knees are a bit weak. "I win," she announces, a little triumphant.
"You cheated," Chaewon pouts.
"How the hell did I cheat?"
"I don't know, you just did." Chaewon's got that little pouty expression stuck to her face, and she swears her revenge. "Next time, I'll beat you. You'll see."
"If you say so," Kazuha smiles, looking at the mess leaking from her ass. You're stumbling back and Yunjin is your support, keeping you steady.
Yunjin is in your ear, "You've still got another round in you, right?"
"I don't know," you pant.
"You, me and the shower. Think about it."
"Yeah," you manage, and then her hand is on your arm, leading you to the bathroom.
"Where the fuck are you going?" Chaewon demands, her hands on her hips.
"Shower," Yunjin calls, dragging you along. "You girls caused this mess, you can clean up. Maybe even lick his cum off each other's asses."
"No, don't leave," Chaewon whines.
But, it's too late, the door is closing, and Yunjin is pushing you up against the wall. "You know," she whispers, her hands on your chest and her body pressed against yours, "I'm kinda turned on."
"Yeah?"
"Watching them fight over you was so hot."
"Yeah, it was," you admit.
"So," she presses her lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, and slipping her tongue into your mouth.
You return her passion, your hands running up her body, and down her back. She breaks the kiss, and looks up at you, a coy smile on her lips.
"Let's have a little fun," she murmurs, reaching behind her and turning on the shower. The water flows, steam fills the air, and Yunjin steps under the stream, letting it cascade over her naked body.
"Fuck," you gasp.
"What's the matter?" she teases, grabbing the bottle of soap and squirting it onto her chest. She lathers up her chest, spreading the foamy liquid over her smooth skin, her nipples hardening as the suds run down her body.
"You're gorgeous," you say, stepping towards her.
She grabs you by the hips, pulling you close, her hands roaming your body. Her skin is slick with soap, her touch gentle and teasing. She's looking up at you, her eyes filled with desire.
"Are you ready?" she whispers, her voice husky.
"Always," you grin, cupping her breasts and kneading them in your hands.
"Fuck," she sighs, leaning into you, her eyes closed, and her body relaxed.
You kiss her, tasting her lips, your tongue sliding against hers. She moans, her hands trailing down your back, and her nails digging into your skin.
"Mmm, so good," she murmurs, breaking the kiss and looking up at you. "All this anal stuff has got me thinking, maybe it's time we tried something new."
"Really?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't think it was ever really your thing? You always said a butt plug was enough."
"I've been practising," she winks.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Maybe it's best if I show you."
"Oh," you grin.
"So," she purrs, wrapping her arms around your neck and pressing her body against yours. "You want to see what I can do?"
"Fuck yes," you breathe, a rush of excitement running through your body.
She smiles, biting her lip and pulling away from you. She turns her back to you, facing the wall, and places her hands flat on the tile. She arches her back, and you watch as she spreads her legs and bends further and further over. Her ass is sticking out, her perfect, plump cheeks inviting you in.
You can't help yourself. You kneel behind her, grab her cheeks and spread them wide. She lets out a soft moan, and you press your face into her ass, inhaling her sweet scent.
"Fuck," you groan, kissing her puckered hole.
"Mmm," she moans, pushing her ass back into your face.
"That feels good, doesn't it?"
"Yes," she whispers, her breath hitching in her throat.
You tease her with your tongue, licking her asshole, and swirling the tip around the rim. She shivers, and you push a finger into her, probing her, exploring her. She's so tight, and the sounds she's making are driving you wild.
"Please," she begs, her voice a desperate whisper. "Please fuck me."
"Are you sure?" you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice.
"Yes," she says, looking back at you. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I'm finally ready."
"You don't have to, we can just have a regular fuck."
"No," she insists, her eyes blazing. "I want to try it, and I want you to be the one to do it."
"Fuck," you growl, pulling your finger out of her ass and standing up. You press the tip of your cock against her, and she whimpers. A shiver runs through her, and her hands ball into fists. There's this tension in the air, and her breathing is shallow and fast. Utterly shameless, she reaches back and pulls her asscheeks apart, opening herself up for you.
"Come on," she whimpers. "Do it. Put it in."
You press against her, your cock throbbing, and her asshole quivering. You push, and she gasps, her muscles tightening, her body tensing. But she doesn't pull away. You push again, harder, and her asshole starts to give way, stretching and opening for you. She lets out a strangled cry, her ass clenching around your cock, as the first few inches slip into her. You can go no further. No amount of practice could prepare her for this.
"You're so tight," you groan.
"It hurts," she whines, her body trembling.
"Just relax, okay?"
"I can't," she moans, her muscles straining.
"Just breathe," you say, stroking her back and ass.
She takes a deep breath, and then another, and then a third. You can feel her body relaxing, her muscles loosening, her asshole stretching.
"That's it," you encourage, pushing deeper into her. "How's that? Better?"
"Yes," she whispers, her eyes rolling back in her head.
You slowly start to move, thrusting in and out of her ass. She's so tight, her body gripping your cock like a clenched fist. Her moans fill the room, echoing off the tiles.
"Fuck," she hisses, her head hanging low, her shoulders hunched. Yunjin has always been the hold-out. Her anal virginity has eluded you, but not any more. Finally, all the best asses in K-pop are willing to take you. There's nothing better.
"Fuck," she groans, her nails scraping against the tiles. "Harder."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she pants.
You grab her hips and start fucking her harder, it's still tough to get more than half of your length inside her, but what she's taking is driving her crazy.
You hook a hand underneath her, past her toned stomach to play with her pussy. She's soaked, dripping with lust, her clit hard and swollen. You tease her, stroking and rubbing her, and she cries out, her whole body tensing.
"You're gonna make me cum," she gasps, her hips bucking against your hand.
"Not until I say so," you growl. She whimpers, her ass tightening around your cock, her legs trembling. You lean forward, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. "Who am I?" you snarl, fucking her ass harder.
"Ah," she whines, her voice strained. "You're...you're my daddy."
"That's right," you growl, your cock throbbing. "Now cum for me."
You rub her clit, and she cums, her whole body convulsing, and her pussy gushing. It's a powerful orgasm, and she's shaking and crying out, her ass squeezing your cock like crazy. She grows weak, barely able to stand and take it. You pull out, let her fall to her knees, and then take hold of her hair to face you.
She's looking up at you with this expression like she's drunk, or high. A good ass fucking and she is a mess. A happy mess. One that's perfect to be coated in your load.
You stroke yourself, staring down at her, and her eyes widen, her lips parted and waiting. You grunt a shudder runs through you, and your cock erupts. Thick ropes of cum splatter across her face, covering her cheeks, her lips, and her nose. She's whimpering, stroking her tits and moaning out words of pure filth for you. "So much cum for your favourite girl. We both know those two don't stand a chance against me."
She's a mess. She's a hot, filthy mess. You step back, admiring her, a smug satisfaction filling your mind while she licks your cum from around her mouth. "Don't get complacent," you tease.
"Never."
#Le sserafim smut#kpop smut#male reader#Yunjin smut#Chaewon smut#Kazuha smut#lesserafim smut#kpop fanfic#m reader#kpop fanfiction#smut
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HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!
thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.
he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.
he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.
but he couldn’t take everything lying down.
did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?
he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.
he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.
he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.
but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.
but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.
simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.
and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?
you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.
the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.
and all the signs pointed to you.
and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.
price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.
johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.
then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.
simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.
maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.
but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.
all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.
and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.
so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.
and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.
even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.
he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.
but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.
the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.
it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.
the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.
“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.
“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”
simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.
“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”
“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”
price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.
“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”
“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.
price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”
the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.
he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.
“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.
price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”
simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.
“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”
they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.
pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.
although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.
but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.
an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.
you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.
damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.
you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.
he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.
‘you should have killed me.’
maybe he should have.
thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—
im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!
as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)
#cod mw2 fic#captain john price#gaz call of duty#soap call of duty#ghost call of duty#captain price#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#johnny mactavish#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#John price#simon riley x gn reader#simon riley angst#ghost x gn reader#ghost x you#ghost angst#ghost x reader#ghost cod#141!reader#141 x reader#task force 141
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massagers and misunderstandings
<sylus x fem!reader>
Haphazardly leaving your little toy in Sylus's room after your playtime wasn't part of the plan.
The good news is that the vibrator was in Sylus’s room.
The bad news is that the vibrator is currently in Sylus’s hands.
genre/warnings: smut, pwp, vibrator play x mirror sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, sylus teasing the everloving shit out of you, breeding kink, (light) choking, dacryphilia, shit load of orgasms
w/c: 2.1k
a/n: shout out to the loml @rafsfishstick for helping me out with this and also giving me this fuck ass idea. Now y'all gna suffer with ME. you're welcome 🩷
Shit, shit, shit. Where is it?!
You've been flipping your whole bedroom upside down over an important missing device. You swore you kept it in the drawers of your room, or at least, you thought you did.
Unfortunately, it went over your head that staying with Sylus for extended periods had you getting very comfortable with leaving your belongings around.
Including your vibrator.
Well, Sylus didn't need to know about it.
In your defense, it was lonely in the mansion without him. And when you did miss him while he was gone, you'd sneak into his room (not that he minded), lie on his bed and let his scent just engulf you completely.
Well, you had your needs too.
And usually you'd just keep your vibrator in your room within the mansion.
And unfortunately for you, this was not one of your usual times.
When the realisation hit you that you in fact did absentmindedly stash your toy hastily in one of his drawers during one of the nights when he told you he'd be away from town for a while, you bolted to his room, hoping, praying, that Sylus hadn't reached his chambers before you did.
The good news is that the vibrator was indeed in Sylus’s room.
The bad news is that the vibrator is currently in Sylus’s hands.
Fuck me, you think, a million useless excuses flooding in and out of your mind.
Maybe you could knock him out and snag the toy from his fingers.
Yeah, like that could ever fucking work with his level of reflexes.
“Aren't you coming in, kitten?”
His usual pet name sends goosebumps flooding your skin.
“Good evening, Sylus”, you force a smile, trying to ignore the way he’s fidgeting with your vibrator.
“This wouldn't happen to be yours, would it?” He asks, dangling the silicone vibrator before you. “I've never seen you use it before.”
You could smack the smug look off his face if you had the chance to, but for now, you force a smile, reaching out to take the device from him.
“It's just a massager”, you lie horribly.
Of course he fucking shifts it away from your grasp.
He narrows his eyes at you and decorates his expression with a sharper smirk.
“Right, because massaging devices look unassuming like this, and you happen to decide to have a little massage session in my room?”
Fuck.
There's no way out of this.
His smirk fades. He puts an arm out to beckon you closer.
His eyes reflect tints of something else, like a reminder that you're about to turn into his prey.
And you can't help but always fall into his trap.
“Now, won't you show me how you use your little massager, sweetie?”
You watch him twirl the vibrator between his slender fingers, touching and feeling the buttons on his fingertips. He has your legs spread apart in front of him at the edge of the bed. You’re carefully observing your partner as it takes him barely a few minutes to figure your toy out when it buzzes to life.
“Don't look so scared, kitten. I'm not about to eat you”, the gaze Sylus is giving you says otherwise. Unfortunately, there's a twisted stem of anticipation that's slowly flooding your veins. You wonder what he's about to do to you, and it's getting you excited.
He smirks when his gaze lands on the small damp patch of fabric on your pussy. He wants to make it bigger.
Sylus grazes his knuckles against your clothes pussy, and it draws a gasp from you.
“I have to say, sweetie, your little massager here has quite the strong vibrations”, Sylus teases. His arm curls around your legs, pulling you slightly closer to him, before he presses the buzzing toy on your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you knew it was coming, you still jumped from the sensation instantly.
You crunch your abdomen when you feel Sylus rolling the vibrator up and down your pussy, watching with sheer satisfaction at the way the dark patch on your pussy continues to grow darker and bigger.
“How does it feel, kitten?” He asks with a smile, and you're not sure if you're getting soaked from the vibrator or from Sylus eye fucking you.
“Tickles…” you force yourself to answer. You hear him hum from below, before your mind shuts off when he shifts the vibrator right to your clit, and applies pressure right there.
But it's not enough.
You know he's fucking with you. He's teasing you–especially when he intentionally lowers the vibration to a dull buzz, taking away the build up, only leaving you whining for more.
But at the moment where you're able to catch your breath, the vibration climbs in levels again, leaving you fisting the sheets and his shirt. Sylus removes his arm around your thigh, and hooks a slender on the damp piece of fabric, tugging it outwards.
“Should we get this out of the way, sweetie? It's bothering you isn't it?”
You nod, still trying to regulate your breathing, your mind racing at the thought of Sylus being the one pressing your vibrator on your bare, wet, sticky pussy.
He lets you close your legs to roll the panties off your hips, only to disappear behind you for a split moment.
His husky voice rings in your ears.
“Open, sweetie.”
You feel his fingers brush on your chin, and he gestures to you to face the front.
You're facing the mirror.
The view of your legs spread open, the sight of your glistening pussy right before your reflection makes you swallow hard.
Sylus’s finger slither down to your sopping folds, spreading your pussy open.
“So fucking pretty for me, aren't you?”
Your fingers clutch tightly against his shirt, the desperation for him to do just anything coming out as a beg when you whisper to him, “please, Sylus.”
His other hand switches on the vibrator once more, and he aims it right on your fucking clit. It makes you jump, and before you realise it, your orgasm hits you–white engulfing your vision, the pleasure shooting through your veins at lightning speed and your pussy uselessly and desperately clenching the air. Sylus captures your lips with his, eating your fucked out moans while he drags your orgasm out, rolling the toy in circles around your clit, collecting the sheer wetness with his fingers and vibrator.
He pulls the vibrator off you, at least, momentarily, to let you descend from your high.
Sylus watches you through the mirror–you, in tears, a small puddle just under where you're sitting and just a creamy fucking mess your pussy is.
“So this was what you were doing when I was gone?”
He watches the way your ears turn red.
Sylus’s fingers keep you staring at him through the reflections.
“I got lonely when you weren't here…”
“Right. I'm sorry for that, sweetie. I should make it up to you, hm?”
You couldn't even proceed to ask him how before he lifts you onto his lap, and the view before you makes you swallow harder–his cock just resting against your bare pussy.
His lips are pressed against the shell of your ear.
“If I told you that I crave so fucking much to just see you the moment I leave, would that leave your mind at ease?”
“No”, you mutter, then gasp when he presses his dick along your folds, dragging his cock so painfully slowly against your pussy. “Nothing is enough if it's not you being here in the flesh.”
He chuckles–it feels warm and it spreads through all over your body.
“Greedy kitten”, is all he replies before he stretches you open, taking the gorgeous sight of you completely falling apart for him as he fits his cock in you.
“That’s a good girl for me. You're taking me so well. Fuck, look at you swallowing me up”, he groans, greedily wanting to just keep all the wet warmth for himself.
It has been a couple of long weeks since he was gone, and fuck was his cock quite a stretch. He fills you up so fucking good every single time.
He listens to you sigh shakily, trying to adjust. He feels the way you're squeezing his thighs with your hand.
You feel so good around him. You feel so good for him.
You hiccup when you feel Sylus thrusts his cock right into you again. You're so fucking overstimulated, your sensitivity climbing up in hundreds, but Sylus still trails the vibrator across your clit in pulses, making your head fall back against his shoulders, your moans bouncing off the walls of his room. It doesn't help that he's forcing you to soak in the sheer perversion of view that's presented before you.
“You're squeezing me so much, kitten”, he hisses into your ears when he feels your pussy clench around him once more. He's in fucking heaven.
But of course, he loves playing with his prey a little more.
The moment he feels you start flutter, he lifts the vibrator off your clit. It makes you gasp.
Then he thrusts his hips upwards, pressing against your sensitive spots. You watch the way his cock just disappears in you, all the way in, and it's starting to make you light-headed.
“Can your little vibrator make you make that face, kitten?”
You see the tear stains that streak down your face, your eyes still watery. Fuck, of course it doesn't.
“Maybe”, you answer shakily, and you watch his eyes fucking glow right before you in the mirror.
Sylus laughs.
“I guess I should change that, right?” He responds. His fingers are now on your throat, and his other hand lay flat on your thigh.
“Then I'd better make sure I make you see fucking stars. Fuck you hard and good, right?”
His fingers tighten around your throat.
Sylus is a fucking menace.
You don't even remember the existence of your vibrator. Not when Sylus is fucking the ever-loving shit out of you from below, and that you're watching it through the fucking mirror–every thrust detailed perfectly under the lights, his fingers cutting oxygen from you from time to time.
He's forcing you to cum with his dick.
And it's fucking working..
Much thanks to the horrible edging he's done to you, you're a fucking overstimulated mess–so sensitive and broken that when you're about to flood, you're begging him.
“Gonna cum, Sylus, please. I'm gonna cum so much. Fuckkkk-”
It fountains out of you and pushes him out, spraying all over the mirror and the sheets. You don't know what Sylus is muttering in your ears but you know he's fucking slapping your pussy, more fluids spraying out to his satisfaction.
After the clear fluids, only the thick cream comes after, and Sylus doesn't hesitate to slide his cock back in, filling you up once more, cream settling and slicking down his shaft with every thrust. Your thighs are still twitching from how fucking good it feels.
“Have I told you that I adore ruining you so much? Because I do adore ruining you so much, sweetie”, he groans. His face contorts in pleasure so fucking beautifully in the mirror while he bottoms out in you, his cock twitching and letting thick streams of warm cum filling you up. He lets himself stay in your pussy for a second or two, before he pulls out, only a thin string of cum linking his cock and your pussy.
Sylus forces you to watch his fingers once again pull open your pretty folds, and thick white seeps out of your hole in loads.
You see him plant a kiss on your temple before he effortlessly scoops you up to wash up with him.
You swear you didn’t leave it in his room this time round. You learned your lesson. When Sylus had his butler change out the soiled sheets, you had pocketed back your vibrator and kept it in a safe part of your room so Sylus wouldn’t get his hands on it again.
At least, that’s what you thought, because the vibrator seemed to have disappeared again.
Shit, did you have to intrude into Sylus’s room again? Well sure, he was gone for a couple of days, so you used his bed for a couple of days…but you were sure as hell that you brought the vibrator back with you when you on the day Sylus came back.
Unsuccessful with the search in Sylus’s room, you return back to yours, wondering if the mansion had just sucked up the vibrator into thin air.
That is, until you see Sylus on your bed.
With your vibrator in his hands.
#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds smut#love and deep space smut#love and deep space sylus#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus qin#qin che
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This is heavily based off of a canon event that is happening in my life, so I've decided to feed yall the details as they happen. Enjoy ♡
Check out my Bakugo Masterlist here! This series is linked under the name "Highschool Crush"
P1, P2
Katsuki Bakugo never noticed you. It's not necessarily a bad thing, is it? After all, this is Bakugo we're talking about—the guy who doesn’t even know the names of half his classmates and calls everyone an extra. Even you are surprised that you have feelings for this hot-headed, time-ticking explosion.
It’s not his fault he hasn’t noticed you. You’re usually in a corner, either drawing, listening to music, or browsing on your phone. When you do hang out with your friends, you tend to be quiet and reserved.
He never paid much attention to you until one day, when he enters class to find a huge crowd of girls gathered around the table next to his. They're squealing and screaming as if they’ve seen Taylor Swift.
Someone finally shouts, “Shh! Look…uh at that bird!”
Katsuki is confused, his eyebrows furrowing as he notices multiple pairs of eyes on him. “The hell are ya lookin’ at?” he asks gruffly, marching over to his table and setting his bag down.
He notices their giggles and the fact that they’re talking to the girl next to him, giving you gentle shoves and nodding in his direction. He wonders if you’re making fun of him but decides to drop the subject.
What he doesn’t realize is that the girls are excited because they finally managed to corner you and get you to reveal who your crush is.
♥︎~
Katsuki is still puzzled when, during a supposed study session with Kirishima that evening, the redhead suddenly brings up your name.
“Y/N?” Katsuki asks, his head tilting to the side, his focus on the textbook in front of him lost.
“Yeah bro, the girl who sits next to you in class?” Kirishima replies. “How could you not notice her?”
The blonde shrugs, trying to remember where he’s heard your name before. After a moment of silence and contemplation, he shakes his head and attempts to focus again.
Kirishima whistles lowly before blurting out, “She’s into you.”
Katsuki freezes.
Someone likes him?
For the rest of the afternoon, you’re all he can think about. You cloud his mind so much that it becomes overwhelming, and he decides to look you up online.
The next morning, when you walk into class, a pair of crimson eyes is watching your every move, memorizing the keychains on your bag and the bracelet on your right hand, which dangles with your initials in silver.
When you finally look up from your phone, you notice him staring. You feel like you’re going to pass out. You just made eye contact with your crush. Your face heats up into a light shade of pink as you immediately dart your eyes away. You scurry to your seat, drop your bag, and head back outside to chat with a very amused Mina.
#mha#bnha#my hero academia#x reader#boku no hero academia#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#female yn#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou fluff#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugo#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo#katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha
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fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader
in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end. word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!
Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be.
Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all.
Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.
You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not.
However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide.
And then he was free.
From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished.
But he was free.
And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened.
Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break.
"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.
"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."
"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.
Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met.
"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again.
"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"
"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit.
"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"
"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"
"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."
"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."
To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was.
Right now, you learned you wouldn't be.
There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry.
Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming.
"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened.
"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"
Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."
"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."
"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped.
"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."
"Oh."
Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.
"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."
"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."
"I think I want to."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."
"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."
"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed.
"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."
"Do you want to hurt me?"
"No."
"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."
"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."
"Not funny."
"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again.
"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more.
"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."
"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him.
"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"
You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more.
You couldn't complain.
It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch.
"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body.
"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later.
"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind.
"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you.
"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin.
"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered.
"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."
"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."
"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.
You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.
Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously.
"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.
"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face.
"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."
"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up.
"Nope. Forget I said anything."
"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."
"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away.
"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."
"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."
"Yes, but how?"
"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."
"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again.
"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up.
"Lots of people say oral," he defended.
"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."
"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head."
Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping.
Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."
"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping.
"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so.
He nipped at your nose. "It is."
"Can we compromise?"
"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose.
In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests.
"Head," you corrected. "And no."
He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"
"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter.
"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."
You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."
"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"
"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him.
"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him.
Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.
Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have.
Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded.
A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone.
The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat.
He liked to hear you.
Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).
"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either.
"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"
"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"
"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face.
"What? Why?"
"Do I need a reason?"
You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest.
"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"
"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."
"I know," you replied.
"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."
You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."
"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."
Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."
"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?"
Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body.
"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.
"Yes."
"Thank you."
His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.
"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.
You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time.
And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make.
Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.
Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.
Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit.
"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin.
"Touch myself?"
"Mhm."
"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."
"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"
"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."
"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"
You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again.
"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head.
He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again.
"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you.
"Hm?"
Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.
"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you.
In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could.
So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more.
Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it.
"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin.
A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.
Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't.
Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling.
Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome.
"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were.
"Please don't stop."
"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to.
Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating.
His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered.
The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after.
His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after.
"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck.
"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter.
"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again.
"Yes."
"Good."
Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there.
"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips.
"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"
"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking.
A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here.
"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more.
"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move.
"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move).
His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second.
A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled.
"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."
"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little.
Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."
"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."
"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again.
A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).
Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure.
"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were.
"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"
"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."
"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."
Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots.
Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever.
His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that.
There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever.
"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly.
"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"
"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared.
"Good."
"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely.
"Help?"
Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone.
Thankfully, you didn't have to.
He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee.
"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub.
"Do you want me to?"
Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."
He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt.
"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless.
You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways.
"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach.
Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh.
"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression.
"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."
You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"
"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."
"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face.
"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."
"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."
"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."
"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."
"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."
Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort.
"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes.
"Okay."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid hurt/comfort
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The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!
Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!
If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:
Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader
AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.
The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.
Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"
A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.
Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."
He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.
As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.
One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.
"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.
"I know."
#yet another parody I'm so sorry#yandere#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere x you#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere obsession#obsessive love#tw yandere#yandere oc x reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader
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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)
✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.
Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader
AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6.7k+
Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content
sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together
Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie
a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰
“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”
With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.
Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.
It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?
Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.
“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”
“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.
“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."
“Oh, well that’s very–“
“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.
“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”
Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.
“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.
Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”
As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”
“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.
“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”
With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.
“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”
The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.
“What did you say your last name is?”
You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.
“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.
“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.
“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”
Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.
“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”
“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”
“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.
There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.
Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?
“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.
“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”
“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”
“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.
“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.
“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”
Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?
This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.
“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.
“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."
Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.
For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.
Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.
Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.
“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”
What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”
“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.
You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.
“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.
“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."
With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.
"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"
You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.
"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."
"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.
"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"
"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.
"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."
Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."
"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.
"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"
You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"
"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."
The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.
"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."
That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.
"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.
"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."
"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”
"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."
Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."
Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.
"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.
"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.
"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.
"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.
"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"
Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.
"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.
"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"
"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."
"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"
"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."
"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"
Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."
Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"
"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"
"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."
It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.
"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."
"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.
"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.
"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.
The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.
Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.
"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"
Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"
"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"
"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."
You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.
"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"
"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"
"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.
"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.
"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."
"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.
"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."
"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.
"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.
"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.
Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.
What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.
You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.
"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.
"'m, I love you too."
Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.
"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.
"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."
He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"
You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.
"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."
You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.
"Yoon?"
"Mm."
"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.
"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.
"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.
"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.
You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.
"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."
Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.
"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."
His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.
"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."
Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.
"But...you haven't seen me–"
"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."
"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."
Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.
"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.
Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.
"Can I?"
You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.
With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.
"Fuck," you swear.
"Feeling good?"
All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.
"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.
"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"
He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.
Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.
"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."
"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"
Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.
Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.
You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.
"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.
"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."
Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"
"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.
"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.
"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.
"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.
"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."
"Really? You're not just teasing me?"
Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.
"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.
Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.
"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.
Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.
"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."
Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.
"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."
"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"
Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.
"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"
"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."
"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.
"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.
This is what love feels like.
a/n: LMK what you think 🥰
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#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#bts imagine#bts smut#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts au#fic:whatlovefeelslike#kookslastbutton
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Heyyy. Ok really cheesy but I’d like to request a Logan x reader friends to lovers where it’s like an accidental confession. Maybe someone makes fun of the reader and Logan without thinking about it just starts yelling and defending why the reader is great and everything he loves about her? Ik it’s a little OOC but maybe he gets so mad (as Wolverine does) that he gets all mushy without realizing lol. Thanks ❤️❤️
lotus
while on library duty, Logan overhears two girls talking shit about you... and corrects it quickly.
CW: sorry i went in a little different direction, suggestive, profanity, takes place during the timeline of the og X-Men, these girls are bitches, etc.
"I just don't get what's the big deal about her," Maya scoffed, resting her cheek in her palm as she thoughtlessly flipped through her biology textbook.
Talia nodded, glancing up from her notes with an excitement that screamed nothing to do.
"No, seriously," she agreed. "Like we get it... you can grow shit. Big deal."
That piqued Logan's interest.
With Jean and Scott off on a date, the professor away, and you and Ororo teaching a joint class, he was slapped with library duty—watching the kids during their scheduled study period.
Now, originally, he planned on simply plopping himself down in a corner and puffing his cigar, hoping to fall asleep and just ride out his sentence.
And he was halfway there, too.
But just as he was about to catch some Zs, his hearing picked up on a conversation between two older girls who seemed to be trash talking his girlfriend.
"Word," Maya turned the next page, a grimace settling on her face when she noticed the image of a flower.
One you were very vocal about liking.
"She won't shut up about these stupid lotus flowers either... Hey! Did you guys know that the lotus is considered sacred in many Eastern cultures? And it often symbolizes purity, beauty, and rebirth!"
Talia let out an obnoxious snicker, the impression not nearly as funny as what she was making it to be.
But maybe she just hated you that much...
"You sound just like her," she commended, very much amused. "Only she's always smiling. Like I've never seen her frown before... it's almost creepy."
"Seriously creepy. But Peter can't get enough of it... you know he has a crush on her, right?"
"Seriously?!"
Logan let out a quiet chuckle, tickled by the news.
He'd caught the boy staring at you during a few Danger Room sessions, but didn't think much of it, assuming he'd just caught him while he happened to be looking in your direction.
Oh, how wrong he was...
He couldn't wait to tell you later tonight.
"Mhmm. Half the boys at school nearly fall over themselves to make sure they're not late to her class... It's almost funny."
"Funny, my ass. Why'd it have to be Peter?" Talia huffed, tossing her pencil at the textbook in frustration. "She's not even that pretty. I've had dogs that look better than her."
Maya attempted to muffle a snicker, but Logan heard it loud and clear, his brows furrowing at the horrible comment.
"I'm serious. She puts up this whole nice and innocent act, but I bet she's a raging bitch behind closed doors."
That was it.
All the stuff before was just normal, teenage jealousy; something he'd—albeit reluctantly—let slide.
But calling you out of your name?
Insulting your character?
Comparing you to a dog?
A line had to be drawn.
"Tali, you can't say that," Maya chuckled, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.
"Like I care," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'd tell it to her face if I ever got the chance. Just walk right up to her and say—"
"Say what?"
The girls nearly jumped out their skin, whipping around, only to be met by Logan's arched brow, the man leaning up against a bookshelf as he puffed on his cigar.
They were at a loss for words, unable to say anything under his imposing presence.
"Don't get shy now," he goaded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on. Tell me what you're gonna say to Dr. (l/n)."
The two were practically frozen, frantically glancing at each other for assistance, Logan's eyes flicking between the two expectantly.
"Nothing?" he hummed. "That's funny... 'cause you both seemed to have plenty of shit to say earlier."
Both their faces fell almost instantly, the color practically draining from Talia.
"You heard that?" Maya squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Every word," Logan nodded. "And what I managed to gather from it was that you both just can't stand her because she's kind, passionate, pretty, and beloved."
He listed each trait off on his fingers, glancing at the two for confirmation.
"How's that? Am I in the ballpark?"
They remained silent, hanging their heads in embarrassment as Logan's confrontation had garnered the attention of the whole library.
"Well, then, how's this..." he pulled the cigar out his mouth. "I'll let you both off this time with a warning... but if I catch either of you trash talkin' anybody again, teacher or student, you're grounded."
"'Til when?" Talia asked, nervously.
"'Til I tell you you're not."
The end of day bell punctuated his statement, a flourish of shutting books and closing pencil cases muffling the girls' sighs of relief.
"Now get outta here."
He had never seen two students pack up so fast.
They were gone in T-minus ten, and once the library was cleared out, Logan allowed himself to sit down, letting out his own sigh.
He could've tore into them infinitely worse—and he honestly wanted to for that dog comment—but he figured that was the right, and legal, amount for a teacher.
But even still...
'I dunno how a girl who can only float two inches off the ground is talkin' about (n/n) havin' a shitty power...'
#james howlett#james howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#mcu#mcu x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#x men x reader#wolverine
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