#life is familiar when he's drunk
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kerink · 4 months ago
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do you think anya told swansea what jimmy did, and thats why he never let go of the axe? he couldn't protect the crew from curly but he'll be damned if he won't protect them from jimmy
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s0dium · 7 months ago
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Stalker
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A/n: I hope you enjoy
Warning: Stalker!Gojo, dub con, fingering, pussy drunk Gojo, unprotected sex, peeping tom, male masturbation, breeding
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As the strongest sorcerer alive, Gojo Satoru knows he should be the epitome of justice, the defender of what's right. So out of all people Gojo Satoru should know that what he is doing is wrong. Very wrong.
Yet despite this he cant help but be drawn to you, linger around you, stalk you. He finds himself drawn to the places you frequent, learning the rhythm of your life, memorizing the small details that make you, you. The coffee shop where you start your morning, the park bench where you read during your lunch break, the dimly lit street you walk down on your way home. In his mind, a narrative builds—a story where he is a part of your world, where his presence matters to you as much as yours has inexplicably come to matter to him.
For a time, Gojo convinces himself that he can be satisfied merely as a shadow in your life, lingering on the periphery, unseen yet ever-present. But as each day passes, witnessing your coworker's blatant glances towards you, Jesus, the short skimpy clothes you wear, the delicate balance begins to fracture. The urge to step out from the shadows and into the light is starting to grow to hard to resist.
The tension reaches its crescendo one evening as he watches from your window—a routine that has become his dark solace. You're preparing for bed, the familiar motions shadowed in the dim light. As you slip under the covers, a sudden sound pierces the silence: moans, soft and whining, drift through the air.
Are you, touching yourself?
Gojo freezes, his heart stuck in his throat. He doesnt know what to do. The sound of your moans cuts through the stillness, sending his heart into a frantic rhythm and hout blood coursing to his dick.
"Fuck." He groans, feeling his member strain against his black pants. His resolve is slowly snapping by the second. With a mixture of urgency and caution, he silently eases the window open and slips into the room.
Shit shit shit.
He approaches your bed, his breath is held tight in his chest as he takes in the sight before him. Your face is contorted in pleasure, lips slightly parted, a soft pant escaping them—each detail more intoxicating than the last. Under the covers your hand shifts, fingers moving back and forth. His heart hammers against his ribs, disbelief mingling with raw emotion as he realizes you're completely absorbed in your own world, unaware of his presence.
It's not until he looms over you that you finally sense another presence, snapping your eyes open to gasp, "Who are you?"
"Shhh baby I'm not here to hurt you I promise," Gojo whispers, a gentle yet firm assurance in his tone, "I'm here to help you okay? You can call me Satoru."
Confusion flickers across your face as you stammer, "What I don't—" Your instinct is to retreat, but he gently pins you down, his hands firm yet careful.
"It's okay, it's okay, baby," he soothes, his tone meant to calm and reassure you in the soft darkness.
Unsure why, you find yourself yielding to the comforting timbre of his voice, allowing him to press tender, feathery kisses along your chin.
"I'm gonna make you feel better better ok?" He hums and you're too engrossed in the feeling of his kisses on your skin that you barely notice he is pulling your underwear down your legs.
"Wait, i don't, this is-" you stutter but your words melt away as soon as you feel his warm touch on your stomach. Shit, you know you should resist, you know how wrong this is—a stranger in your room, touching you in such an intimate manner. Yet, there he is, devastatingly handsome under the shadowy caress of the night, his piercing blue eyes locking with yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. His voice, smooth and soothing, weaves through the thick air, and despite the alarm bells ringing in your mind, you're desperate for the relief he seems to offer.
You sharply gasp when you feel him slide a long finger between the lips of your cunt, collecting your juices before bringing them up to your sensitive clit.
"Already so wet aren't you."
Without a warning, Gojo slips a finger into your gummy walls and curls toward your belly button.
"M'Satoru!" You gasp. The foreign intrusion knocks the wind out of you and your hips instinctively buck into the air, your toe-curling from the sudden pleasure. You dont know it but Gojo is struggling to maintain his composure as well. The reality of your whines, the softness of your insides, surpasses even the wildest of his fantasies.
"This is bad baby, really bad, I don't think I can just touch you here." Gojo chokes out with a groan.
You dumbly nod, too lost in the pleasure to notice the unbuckling of Gojo’s pants. The pressure of his fat tip against your quivering hole is exhilarating and you can’t help but hold your breath as he finally pushes in. You let out a loud moan when you feel his tip smush against your cervix once he gets down to the last inch.
"Ah-Ah ah oh god," Gojo groans. He mentally curses himself that he could ever think his hand could replace the feeling of your cunt. "You feel good baby? Because I feel so good, you feel so good." Gojo is babbling now as he thrusts in and out of you.
You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed his messy kisses on your mouth made your brain grow light and fuzzy.
Gojo thinks that if there is a heaven, this is surely it. All those times watching you, following you home, fantasizing about this exact moment—none of it prepared him for the overwhelming reality of being inside you, of fucking you. He can practically feel your heartbeat sync with his, the sheer intensity of this connection he had desired since he laid eyes on you made him realize something he never did before; he needs you all to himself. forever.
Gojo uses you like his personal cock sleeve, shapes your insides and bruises your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity; ripping orgasm after orgasm from you. His balls slap against your ass with every drop and he retracts his hips until the tip pokes out to admire the sheen dripping to his base before fitting himself back into your snug walls and spilling ropes upon ropes of cum into your womb
Your body trembled from the overwhelming hotness and he smoothed a hand over your bloating stomach.
“Shhh, take it. Take it all,” he crooned.
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fairy-angel222 · 10 months ago
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𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍’
—OFFICER! TOJI F. x F! READER
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᧔♡᧓ in which your officer boyfriend catches you at a party that you lied about going to
᧔♡᧓ content: rough smut, age gap (reader is in college), angry sex, jealous sex, possessive toji, handcuffs, breeding, choking, hair pulling, ass/tit/pussy slapping, praise, degradation, daddy kink here and there, begging, orgasm denial, passing out, pussy eating, semi-public sex, sex in police car
᧔♡᧓ requested by @valleydoli 💗
᧔♡᧓ wc: 3.1k
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Toji couldn’t fight the annoyance on his face as he pulled up into the small neighborhood. Loud music blaring through the air as colorful lights beamed onto the dimly lit street. There had been a number of complaints. The neighborhood’s residents ringing 9-1-1 one after the other.
To say he didn’t care was an understatement. Out of the whole department Gojo Satoru just had to dispatch him to break up a stupid college party. His police vehicle came to a stop a little down the block, the tall man stepping out with stonic features and a sigh as he made his way closer to the source of vulgar tunes which seemed to shake surrounding houses.
Toji stalked up to the front door, the smell of hard alcohol and weed hitting his nose as he banged on the door. Forceful enough for the sound to ring throughout the noisy inside. A drunk boy no older than 19 swinging the door open with a grin. “Hey man! O-oh shit. Hey officer, what can i do for you?” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard under Toji’s harsh gaze as he tried his hardest to appear sober.
Toji peered over the boy and into the room. Sweaty bodies grinding against each other while others made out, almost every hand nursing a plastic red cup. “Do me a favor and just keep the noise down alright, if not shut this whole damn thing down.. what the fuck.” The officer spat bitterly, jaw clenching with a scowl when his eyes landed on someone. His someone.
You.
He couldn’t believe it. You had been so persistent on spending the night at home. Claiming that you had piles on piles of work to complete. Did you crave attention that badly? One measly night he had to work overtime and this was the shit you pulled? Clad in a lacy dress which had a deep v cut and barely reached your mid thigh. Your body, his girl’s body, on display for everyone to see.
He could see the eyes roaming your figure top through bottom. His blood boiling as he visibly seethed, shoving past the lanky teenage boy to make his way over to you. You were grinning happily, one hand in your hair and the other ghosting over the hand that rested on your hip. Giving the girl behind you the dance of her life.
The music lowered, Toji’s eyes twitching at all the loud gasps that echoed through the room. All eyes on his large frame as he towered over everyone in the room. Muscles bulging through his tight shirt with each hard step that he took. All eyes but yours. You were too into what you were doing, and your boyfriend couldn’t help his rising anger as he got closer and closer. Spotting familiar brunette and green hair sat on a couch with their lips on each other’s.
Of course. You were dragged here.
You giggled loudly, taking a swig from the girl’s cup and letting the bitter tasting liquid scrape at the walls of your throat when you swallowed. Your friends’ eyes widened as they pulled away from each other, desperately trying to get your attention as you swayed your hips. Those hips that only Toji was allowed to see move.
A hand grabbed the flesh of your arm tightly, your head whipping around to snap at the stranger before your brows furrowed. Taking in that broad chest that you’d gotten to know by heart. Your eyes timidly trailed upwards, a small whimper caught in your throat when they met his darkened ones. The man’s head tilting to the side as if daring you to not comply. He would not hesitate to get you out of there over his shoulder if he had to.
“T-toji.. h-hi i-“ you stuttered, looking down at your feet as you shuffled nervously. Eyes darting to the girls who eyed you apologetically.
“Shut up.” His voice was firm, and your thighs clenched as you held back another whimper. You could feel everyone’s eyes boring into you. “Fuck. You know what? Everybody out.” His voice raised at the end. The bustling college teens wasting no time before they scattered, afraid at just the mere sight of the man. “And you.. oh you’re in for it now.”
All the alcohol seemed to leave your system when Toji pulled your arms behind your back. Cuffing your hands as your face heated up in embarrassment. “T-toji w-wait.” The man ignored you as he pulled you out of the room, not caring about how you stumbled over your own two feet to keep up with his large strides.
“She really disobeyed you this time huh?” A familiar voice rung out, a teasing smirk on Gojo’s face as he walked up the few stairs that you’d just descended from. “Good job Y/n.” He winked, a deep chuckle leaving his throat as he thought back to exactly why he had sent Toji out here.
It didn’t take long to reach the vehicle with the speed you were being pulled at. Toji’s hold on your arm never loosening in the slightest. “Get in.” Toji spoke meanly, holding the door open with a gesture for you to get inside.
“But-“
“Get the fuck in Y/n.” He never called you by your name often, only when he was mad. It was always some sweet petname that made you feel all warm and tingly inside. Sliding into the vehicle you kept your head low, the door slamming behind you not too long after.
You squirmed in your seat. Giving into the tension filled silence as you watched his grip on the wheel tighten until his knuckles were pale. Thoughts of you letting any other man touch you coursing in his mind.
Toji undid the first two buttons of his shirt, using his fingers to prod the tight fabric open as he rolled his neck. Taking the pair of handcuffs off his suited pants before rolling the vehicle to a stop.
“Toji ‘m sorry.” You mumbled almost shyly, face getting hot as your arousal dampened your lace panties.
He ignored you. Taking a step out of the car and into the night’s darkness. The vacant road scarce of any sources of light. Your door swung open, eyes widening in a doe-like pout as you looked up at him.
“Don’t. Not after that shit you just pulled.” He warned, expression still hard as you climbed out, the slam of the door making you jump with a yelp. A small whine left your throat as you were flipped around, chest pressed into the vehicle’s side with your hands still bound behind your back.
He roughly pushed your dress up to your waist with a scoff. “Going out dressed like you want to get laid. Am i not enough for you baby?” His fingers found their way to your clad folds. Brushing over your clit with a hum. “Do i not fuck you enough? Is that little pussy so desperate to be filled?” He didn’t give to a chance to answer, his palm landing heavily on your pussy making you jerk with a cry. “Look at that. She’s all wet f’me. Such a greedy fucking cunt yeah?”
You whimpered loudly, Toji’s voice deep and husky in your ear as he kissed up your neck. Allowing you to lean back onto him with your head on his chest. Soft moans falling past your lips as you let yourself grind on his fingers. Another loud cry filling the air when he landed it hard on your ass instead.
“I shouldn’t even be touching you.” He whispered venomously, voice laced with clear disappointment as he pushed his fingers past the thin fabric, pressing the pad of his middle finger onto your clit before rubbing small circles. Watching the way your lips parted in sweet noises as you let your eyes flutter shut. “Should just drop you home and leave you all desperate and needy.”
That made you whine with the shake of your head, pushing your ass back onto his crotch in want. “Or will you just call someone to come fuck you like a little slut?” You cringed at the sound of your panties tearing, Toji’s muscles straining against the confines of his shirt’s fabric as he rolled up his sleeves. Quickly working to free his hard cock before pushing you into the back seat of the car with a smirk. Handling your body until you were face down, with your ass up on display for him.
“Look at yourself.” He forced your head up to gaze at your reflection in the window. “Gonna fucking destroy you baby. Do you want that?”
You nodded, eyes prickling with tears as you clenched in anticipation. You wanted his cock so bad. “Ahh f-fuck.” Another slap to your ass.
“So you do have a mouth.”
Words. He wanted to hear you say it.
“P-please fuck me daddy.”
“You can do better than that princess.”
“Please. Please fuck me. Need you so bad. ‘M aching f’ you. Want you to fill me up.” You begged.
“That’s it. That’s my slutty girl.” You mewled loudly at the intrusion of Toji’s thick cock. The man bottoming out inside you with one quick thrust making your knees buckle underneath you while your back arched. Feeling Toji’s fat tip immediately prodding at the increased tightness near your cervix.
“Shit.” He cursed, breathing getting heavy as he nestled his cock within your warm walls. Forgetting just how much he loved that little cunt of yours.
He started off rough, forcing his cock deep as you rocked harshly against the soft seat. Loud moans dripping off the tip of your tongue as his cocked kissed meanly at your g spot.
Your pussy stretched to accommodate the quick thrusts of his girthy length. Feeling his veins scraping deliciously against your gummy walls as he hammered into you.
You cried out when Toji’s hand found its way around your throat, pulling you up to his chest with your hands flush between your back and his chest. Drool filled babbles spilling messily onto your skin at the force of his hips.
“Haah— T-toji f-fuck,” you keened loudly, your chest riding and falling rapidly as your brain turned to mush. Unable to think of anything but how good he felt inside of you. Lewd squelches mixed with skin slapping burning its way into your brain. A constant reminder of Toji’s abuse to your sensitive cunt as your vision blurred.
“That’s it baby. Take it real nice n’ deep. You’re practically swallowing me in right now.” He breathed. Hand tightening around your throat as the other travelled down to your chest, barely having to tug at the black fabric for your tits to spill into his large hand. Rough fingers twisting at your pert nipples as he palmed the soft flesh.
“Ahh— so good. Feels s’ good daddy.” You cried, Toji’s hand landing two consecutive slaps onto your breasts.
“Gonna stuff this pussy real full. Breed her with my cum till you know your place.” He growled lowly, his frustration seeming to reemerge as he stroked his cock with your tightness. Allowing himself to poke at every corner of your warmth, ruining your slutty pussy to your tears.
“Wanna go out dressed like you’re available. Single. Like you don’t have me taking care of that ache between your legs every single night.” His pace quickened with every word. Snapping his hips up mercilessly till his balls reddened your puffy clit, mouth hung open in whiny mewls as your stomach tightened.
Your tears flowed freely as you were shoved back into the car’s seat. Your mind dizzy at the plowing of his cock into your sweet spot. Toji’s hand moving to grip at the delicate flesh of your hip with other torturing your clit. Rubbing mean, hard circles onto the swollen bud.
“Tojii— ‘m gonna, ahh- ‘m gonna cum.” You whimpered, catching sight of the traces of mascara staining your cheeks alongside your messy hair. The sight being enough to make you call out his name incoherently as your eyes rolled back. Legs shaking violently as you clenched around him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh—“ you chanted, letting out a broken scream as you squirted messily. Completely drenching Toji’s cock in your wetness.
Toji’s movements stilled, his fingers digging into your hair with a sharp tug upwards. “Oh i’m sorry? Did i say you could cum baby?”
“Sorry, nngh- c-couldn’t hold it.” You hiccuped, knowing that you were in trouble.
Toji shook his head, pulling you back so you lay flat across the seat. Shoving one of your legs up beside your body with a grunt. A shiver raking through your body as the cool air breezed through your sopping pussy.
You let out a groan, your attempt to close your legs stopped by Toji’s strong hands shoving them apart. Groping at both sides of your ass before his palms made contact with the skin. A bubbly whine catching in your throat when you tightened around nothing.
Toji sunk to his knees on the ground outside, the forest to his back as he began pressing soft kisses to the sides of your thighs, his tongue licking a long stripe up your slit.
He groaned, grip tightening on your thighs when his tongue darted out once more to lap at your sweetness. Sloppily running between your folds before swirling around your clit. It didn’t take long to get you where he wanted you. The overstimulation going straight to your foggy brain as Toji got lost in your heat. His eyes fluttering shut with a hum as he tried to pull you impossible further onto his tongue. Your constantly flowing slick mixed with his saliva dripping sloppily onto the ground below.
Your fingers clawed at nothing as you began to tremble, crying out loudly as your eyes closed shut. Your tear stained cheek pressed into the seat as you drooled adorably. A smirk adorning Toji’s face when he curled his thick fingers into you.
“Ahh— ‘s too muchh. Gonna cum again.” You mewled desperately, toes curling as another coil tightened in your stomach. Toji stopped sucking at your clit, pulling away from you while his fingers sped up. Paddy tips poking directly into your spot with ease. “Yeah? Gonna cum for me already?”
You answered with a high pitched moan and a small “uh huh”, feeling yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge before it all came crumbling down. Toji removing his fingers before standing up, and only then did you notice how much of his chest was on display. He leaned down to kiss away your tears, brushing away any hair stuck to your forehead. “Only good girls get these privileges baby, i’m a cop, you should know this.” He cooed.
His cock prodded at your hole, sinking into his rightful place deep within your warmth before beginning to fuck into you. He knew your orgasm had barely just died down, and he was going to fuck you to another just to leave you hungry.
Your boyfriend’s head found its place in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your ear before he grinned against your skin. “You won’t be leaving the house for days when i’m done with you.” He promised, tone gruff as he felt his cock twitch in indication of his own high.
“Haah— ‘s so muchh.” You breathed as you melted into him, his touch hot on your skin leaving short quivers in its wake. “Toji— o-oh fuckk.” You were sputtering out strangled noises of pleasure, Toji’s husky groans in your ear adding fuel to the fire as you let out a cry. Your pussy gushing onto him before your orgasm could even hit.
Toji cursed loudly, his grip on your hips allowing him to pull you back onto him as roughly as he was slamming into you. “That’s it baby, pussy’s gripping me so fucking tight.”
“‘M so close— so so close.” You gasped, basking in the small skin to skin contact of your hands on his exposed chest.
“Gotta fucking earn it. Tell me, who do you belong to princess. Who owns this slutty little pussy hmm? Who fucks you this good every night?” He questioned darkly, rolling his hips in a way he knew would drive you crazy.
“Y-you. You do. ‘S all y-yours— fuck. Please can i cum? Need to cum so bad.” You almost sobbed, Toji kissing your cheek sweetly with a breathy moan. “All mine. All fucking mine. Go ahead slutty girl. Cum f’ me.”
You let go noisily, vision clouded as your moans spilled uncontrollably past your lips. The burning sensation in your stomach slowly easing as you allowed yourself to let go. Making a mess on the man’s cock while he worked himself deeper inside you. Burying his cock as far as he could before pumping you full with a contented sigh.
“Let everyone know that you’re taken. Get you pregnant with my kid and keep you locked away. Only for me.” His cum painting your walls in hot spurts as his abs tensed. The throb of his cock slowly dulling as you milked him dry.
You whimpered, feeling the thick substance slowly seep out of you when he pulled out. All the alcohol finally catching up to you as you slipped in and out of consciousness. Letting your eyes blink shut before you went limp in his arms.
Toji groaned with a stretch, smirking down at you and your fucked out form.
So pretty.
He tugged down your dress and tucked himself back into his pants. Removing your hand cuffs before taking you into his arms gently. Laying you down more comfortably with a quick kiss to your forehead. Watching as your chest rose and fell softly, face contorted into a peaceful one despite how stained it was from your tears.
He slipped into the driver’s seat, allowing the car to reach the perfect temperature for you to rest it. Finally pulling off from the side of the road. He laughed shortly when he checked the time, contemplating whether he should even bother going back to work. He’d much rather stay home with you.
He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, rolling his eyes when he saw the name written across the screen. Satoru.
“Hello.”
“So, fucked her good didn’t ya? Made your girl cry huh Fushiguro.” The white haired man laughed into the call. Gojo had been tempted to say it over the radio, but he didn’t know if you’d be awake or not.
“That’s why you sent me out there isn’t it?” Toji scoffed, one hand on the steering wheel turning it into your apartment complex while the other worked the gear. If you were awake you’d be going crazy. Him driving was one of your many weaknesses.
“Yes, and you’re welcome. Tell her i said hi when she gets up. Bye Fushiguro~” The call beeped to an end and Toji shook his head, trying to hide the small smile creeping up onto his face. Fucking Satoru.
Glancing back at you he allowed himself to openly smile, he could never stay mad at you. It was time to show you that.
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thegoogoomuckkk · 4 months ago
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the newlyweds -> you thought maybe your husband's insatiable appetite would cool down after the first few days of being married, but if anything, it’s getting worse -> choso kamo, kento nanami, satoru gojo, sukuna ryomen, toji fushiguro
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choso's gone this long without having sex, be prepared to make up for lost time. he isn’t super familiar with human procedures & traditions, so it wasn’t necessarily his intent to wait until marriage. he didn’t even really know what sex was until he started dating you, & you didn’t want to push him into something he wasn’t comfortable with. regardless, your first time is on your wedding night. . .& your second time, & third time, & fourth. . .& so on. 
you remember faintly the first time you kissed choso, him saying that he would be happily content to kiss you & kiss you for the rest of his life. & he would’ve been, but he was too far gone know, eyes rolling back, body unable to process the immense pleasure of your cunt wrapped around him. 
his hands gripped your hips with a desperate intensity as he moved within you, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your joined bodies. choso's normally composed demeanor had completely unraveled, replaced by raw need & desire.
you ran your fingers through his long dark hair, marveling at how undone he had become. his lips found yours in a searing kiss, muffling the moans that escaped unbidden from both of your throats.
"never," he gasped against your mouth, his voice husky with passion. "never knew. . .never knew it could be like this. didn’t know it was this good."
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nanami was not typically a risk taker in any form, especially when it came to his wife, but he couldn’t bear to be away from you that long. his work had not allowed him to take off as much time as he would’ve liked. his first few days back were pure torture. he focused on nothing else but the mental image of your tits bouncing as you rode him, or the way your cunt sucked in his fingers each night before he stuffed you full of his cock, or the sound of your melodious voice begging him, telling how good it was. 
so here he was, bending you over his mahogany desk (the blinds shut of course, he wasn’t that risky) wondering how he ever lived without you, without fucking you. sex had been on his mind so infrequently before you. he stroked himself off maybe once a month, or sometimes when he was drunk. but now, he had a hard time going any significant period of time without being balls deep in your sweet cunt. seeing that wedding ring on your finger, gripping onto the wood of his desk, does not help matters in the slightest. 
nanami's fingers dug into your hips as he thrust into you from behind, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your bodies. the office was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin & your muffled moans. you bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, though it was a struggle with the way he was pounding into you.
"god, i've missed this," nanami groaned, his voice husky with desire. "missed my wife. your tight little cunt feels so good."
you whimpered in response, pushing back against him, desperate for more. his hand snaked around to rub your clit in tight circles, making your legs tremble.
"that's it, baby," he murmured. "come for me. let me feel you squeeze my cock."
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you’re entirely unsurprised by gojo's behavior. you actually don’t think there will come a time when satoru is not desperate for you at all hours of the day. he could be mid-mission, literally killing a curse, & he’ll send some corny text asking for nudes. 
"pls :( need nudes, will die without." you suppress the biggest eye roll.
your eyes are surely rolling, though, when he gets home & shows you what he’s been thinking about all day, what had him so worked up. . .thoughts about his pretty wife & her pretty pussy.
you can't help but smirk as satoru presses you against the wall, his lips hungry on your neck. his hands roam your body with urgent need, like he hasn't touched you in weeks rather than hours; it was only that morning that he’d stuffed his tongue in your cunt before dashing off to a meeting. "missed you," he murmurs between kisses. "couldn't focus all day."
“I couldn’t tell," you tease, recalling his stream of increasingly needy texts. "begging me for nudes didn’t tip me off at all."
he chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. "can you blame me? look at you."
his hands slide down to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. you can feel how hard he is already, his desire evident through his pants. "someone's excited," you whisper, nipping at his earlobe.
satoru groans, grinding against you. "you have no idea. been thinking about this all day. about you."
he groans, pressing his hips against yours. "those pictures kept me going. but the real thing is so much fucking better."
his fingers find the hem of your shirt, sliding underneath to caress bare skin. you gasp as he cups your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak.
"satoru," you breathe, melting into his touch despite your earlier exasperation. he’s gotta make it up to his poor wife for leaving her home all day long. 
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a week-long getaway to a penthouse with your new husband, suguru, had sounded like a dream, & of course it was, but you feared you weren’t making it out of this vacation without a positive pregnancy test. 
his hands gripped your hips with an intensity that would surely leave bruises, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. every thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, leaving you gasping and clinging to him desperately. his usual composure was completely shattered, replaced by raw need and desire.
your nails digging into his back as he drove into you relentlessly. his dark eyes were wild with lust, fixed on your flushed face.
"that's it, love," he growled, his voice husky & strained. "take all of me. let me fill you up."
your body trembled, teetering on the edge of bliss. you could feel the heat of his skin, smell his intoxicating scent, hear the low groans rumbling in his chest. it was overwhelming, consuming you entirely. the intensity of his words sent a shiver down your spine. part of you wanted to resist, to remind him of your carefully laid plans—but your body betrayed you, arching into his touch & silently begging for more. his hand slid down to caress your lower abdomen, his touch gentle despite the ferocity of his thrusts. "you'll look so beautiful," he murmured. "glowing, swollen with our baby."
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you were pretty sure you’d never experienced exhaustion like this before, & yet you wouldn’t have it any other way. sukuna was practically tethered to you, night & day; you knew he exceeded the stamina of typical men, but this was setting the bar a little too high. he was breaking your poor cunt. 
"‘kuna, I c-can’t, can’t take anymore, s’too much," you’d babble each morning & each night, tears staining your pillow along with your drool, nails tearing into the sheets. you were pretty sure some of the remnants of your mascara from your wedding day still remained somewhere on your eyes, you hadn’t the time for skincare. 
"of course you can, wife. you always take me so well, like you were made for me," he purrs, chest falling over your back, pressing you into the sheets, biting the lobe of your ear, ruining you. & he was such an asshole, calling you wife, as if he cared at all for your silly little human rituals, it was just another way for him to tease you. 
"please," you gasped, not even sure what you were asking for anymore. your mind was foggy, overwhelmed by sensation.
sukuna chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating through your body. "such sweet sounds you make for me, wife. I’llnever tire of them." his hand snaked around to grip your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your head swim. you felt him swell inside you, somehow growing even larger. "one more," he growled. "give me one more, & I’ll let you rest."
his chuckle rumbled through you, low & dark, watching your hips draw back & forth to meet his. "see? your body knows what it needs," sukuna murmured, his breath hot against your neck.
his hips snapped forward relentlessly, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure-pain coursing through you. you lost track of time, lost in the sensations, in the feeling of being utterly consumed by him. when you came again, it was with a broken sob, your body trembling uncontrollably beneath him. sukuna growled in satisfaction, his own release following moments later as he buried himself deep inside you.
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toji is determined to christen every goddamn inch of your apartment. it’s practically a game to him. 
"no, toji, not on the table, we eat here," you whine, but your attempts at swatting him away as he pushes you over the counter so delicately, humping your ass, groaning into his fist. he hoped there came a point when his wife’s ass didn’t make him whiney & sex-brained like a teenager, but he doubted it. 
"please, baby," he groans, mouthing at your clothed pussy. "let me taste you. I need it."
you can't help but melt at his desperation, your resolve crumbling. with shaky hands, you push your panties to the side. toji lets out a guttural moan at the sight of your glistening folds, diving in eagerly.
his tongue laps at you hungrily, like a man starved. you cry out, gripping the edge of the table for support as your knees threaten to give way. toji's large hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as he devours you.
"fuck, you taste so good," he mumbles against your sensitive flesh. "never get enough of you."
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married men, weak at the knees for their wife :) did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it
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k-hotchoisan · 8 months ago
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backseat serenade
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<mingi x fem!reader>
Getting stuck in the backseat of your friend’s car after a night out with your drunk friends wasn’t how you thought of ending the night, especially not on Mingi’s lap.
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Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, forced proximity, technically exhibitionism but not because no one ends up noticing, fingering, light choking and wrist pining, riding, cream pies, orgasms, something is going on in the backseat…, furcoat mingi
word count: 3.3K (what the fucK)
a/n: y'all be eating fucking good fr. Also shout out to my loml @bro-atz for helping out with the plot a little <3 shout out to mingi brain rot!
taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess  @woojirang @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn  @voicesinmyhead-rc @woojirang @wlv-asteria @jjoongstar @comicnerd557 or @kpopwrites @vic0921
networks: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet
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“Who else is here?” You ask. 
She shrugs. “My boyfriend and a couple of his friends. You know them.” Well, you’ve definitely met a couple of your friend’s boyfriend’s friends before. Your eyes scan the crowd and sure enough, you spot familiar faces. 
And then your eyes rest on a particular male—his hair dyed platinum and slicked back, already drawing attention because of his height alongside his fur coat that hung over his shoulders. You never thought someone could pull off a fur coat that well actually. A pair of glasses sits on his nose bridge, which seems to somehow accentuate how sharp his eyes are. He’s been on your radar since he appeared on a mutual friend’s Instagram. 
“He’s pretty cute isn’t he?”, your friend’s date pushes, lightly bumping his arm against yours. 
You cast him a glance. “Just surprised that there are people who still wear fur coats in this economy.”
“That’s-“
“Song Mingi”, you reply, not taking notice of your friend’s boyfriend’s surprised expression. 
“You know him?”
“Came across him”, you reply a little too quickly. You sure as hell were not about to spill the truth. 
He definitely looks and is intimidating for sure, especially when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice so low that it tickles your ears. You could hear him talk forever, you think. You could imagine how he moans in your ears.
You blink. The fuck?
And so, for the past hour or so, you’ve been stealing glances at the blond male, but unfortunately, there was only so much staring could do, and it was not helping you get the male’s attention. Sure, the both of you actually followed each other (you were surprised when he followed you back), and the way he liked your stories sometimes made your stomach grow butterflies, but you never actually interacted with him in real life. 
It wasn’t until the party was slowing down, when you came back from being distracted by another friend, was when you realise Mingi was gone. A ping of disappointment fills you up, but it’s not as horrendous as the feeling of regret—for not just going up to talk to him. You wonder when you’ll see him again.
You decide to find your friend and call it a night.
“Do you wanna hitch a ride with us?”, your friend asks, uselessly trying to balance herself, her partner holding onto her waist. 
“The driver didn’t drink, I promise”, your friend’s partner assures. 
You open the car door and your eyes widen when you spot Mingi. 
You whip your head to your friend to ask her sincewhen Mingi came with the friend group but you realise you wouldn’t be getting any concrete answers from a tipsy person. 
You glance back at the male donned in the maroon fur coat, who seems rather surprised when he sees that you were the one who opened the car door. 
But Mingi’s expression remains indifferent—god knows what he’s thinking about but you swore you saw a tint of something in his eyes when your friends told you to just sit on his lap because “the car had no space”. 
“Hi, y/n”, Mingi’s deep voice calling your name is kept in a bottle and stored at the back of your head. 
“Hey Mingi”, you greet back, cautiously approaching him. 
“Are you okay with this?” You ask, testing the waters by putting your weight on his left thigh. 
“It’s fine. I’m just worried that it’s gonna be uncomfortable for you since it’s gonna take a while to reach your place right?”
Right. You nod in defeat. 
Your body jolts slightly when you feel Mingi’s touch burn against your skin—especially your thighs. 
His friend on the passenger seat has the aux cord and he’s picked out a song to blast in the speakers. You feel goosebumps bloom across the nape of your neck when Mingi’s voice hits your ear from behind. 
“Sorry, you might need to move in a little more, Princess. We have three more squeezing with us at the back.”
You blink, processing the information before internally thanking the universe that the car is dark so the red flushing against your cheeks gets hidden. 
Soon you find yourself fully on Mingi’s lap, and although you try not to lean too much against him, you realise the position feels awkward, and when Mingi personally shifts you with his hands instead, you decide to stay put. 
The energy in the car is high, even after all that partying, which you easily deduce to be due to the alcohol. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be singing along at the top of your lungs, not when you’re subconsciously aware that Mingi is just behind you. 
Sitting on someone’s lap was definitely not as comfortable as sitting on a car seat, and that was a given, so you find yourself shifting constantly, not realising Mingi closing his fists every time your ass shifts against him, particularly his crotch. 
Suddenly you feel the weight below you shift. Mingi’s arm wraps around your waist, his weight pressing against you. You stay put the moment you feel his lips barely inches away from the shell of your ear. 
“I strongly suggest you try to stay still, y/n, or it’ll become a problem for the both of us.” 
You turn your head slightly, barely enough to capture him within your peripherals. At first, you wonder if you’re starting to annoy him, but when you feel his hands slide down to your thighs and something hard pressing against your ass, you get your answer. 
And you wonder how far you should take this. 
Your face is heating up, at the idea you’re just sitting on Mingi’s thick erection, separated by the fabric of his pants and the ridiculously thin fabric of your body con dress. You wonder about his size, which only gets more vivid since you’re literally sitting right on his fucking cock—how thick he would be, how much he would stretch you open, and it’s making you slowly drench your panties. 
The more his erection is blatantly pressing against you, the more you can’t help but fidget on his lap. You’re wondering why Mingi hasn’t said anything, you wonder if he even felt it at all. The moment that thought forms in your brain, you pick out what sounded like low groans from behind you. Then you feel Mingi’s fingers press against your bare thighs, just this fucking close to lifting your dress. 
Mingi shifts against you, his hard cock now even more prominent against your ass—directly below your pussy if it wasn’t for the fact that there were layers of annoying fabric keeping them apart. 
His deep voice is like a melody in your ear,  “I’m closing an eye if you’re just doing this on accident, but there’s only so much more grinding I can take princess.”
You glance over to the company seated just right beside you—they are still singing their hearts out thanks to the self-assigned DJ of the car. The music was still blasting, and you realise you and Mingi are slowly forming another world—one growing of hot and heavy air. 
You’re trying to weigh your options and risks, but the constant friction of Mingi’s cock just poking you through his pants mixed with the light buzz from the alcohol earlier is keeping you less than logical. 
You lean back, the back of your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the thick coat tickle your cheeks, taking in the scent of his cologne that you swear only he could pull off, the boldness rushing into your veins like adrenaline.
“And if I said it wasn’t an accident?”
You don’t know what he might do next, but it’s making your legs tremble by the second. Your clit is fucking throbbing from the sheer anticipation. 
Mingi’s eyes dart to glance at you while his head remains positioned straight, before he presses himself onto you with a smirk against your ears, “Right. Glad we cleared that up, princess.” 
His hands press on the sides of your throat, two fingers tipping your jaw to turn your head to face him as he clashes his lips against yours, and you’re ready for him to just take whatever the fuck you have left. You’re doing your best to muffle your moans through the kisses, but as every second passes, you’re ready to give into it—mostly scream his fucking name into the night at this point. 
Your eyes are so glazed out, your pussy throbbing and drenched, your mind so sexually frustrated the more Mingi keeps you waiting. Mingi’s fingers trail along your bare thighs, his legs forcing yours to stay open, easily letting the gather of your dress push upwards, while his fingers push your panties to the side. You hear him mutter fuck when your wet cunt drenches his fingers. He barely drags his fingers over your clit, yet you already feel like you’re about to burst. 
“Are you gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” Mingi asks, sinking his gaze into yours. You swallow hard and nod, so fucking entranced by his sharp eyes behind the glasses, and alongside the fact that his fingers are rubbing circles on your clit. 
“Fuck me. You’re so fucking wet for me”, he hisses, eating up your moans as he fits his thick fingers into your pussy, filling you up instantly. Oh god. You feel your mind completely blank out at the sensation of Song Mingi stretching you out. 
You swear that the wet sounds of Mingi’s fingers fucking your sopping cunt were louder than the music, but for some reason, and thank fuck, no one else seemed to notice. Yet. 
His other hand clasps over your mouth as he watches your eyes roll back, your desperate and satisfied moans muffled every time his thumb presses against your clit while his fingers fill you up again and again. 
You shouldn’t have agreed to stay quiet. 
Mingi’s legs are strong as fuck because his knees keep your legs from snapping shut as you let the feeling build in your stomach. Your hips are involuntarily bucking against his fingers, craving for him to fuck his fingers deeper. Shit. You can’t seem to get enough. He releases his hand off your mouth for a while, letting it wander to your tits, rolling your nipples over your dress with his fingers, listening to you pant and whimper.  
“Can’t wait to fuck your tight cunt once we get off”, he mutters into your ear, increasing his pressure on your clit. 
“Please… fuck! Mingi…” you trail, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. But the knot tightens hard and taut. You’re about to snap anytime soon. 
“Cum on my fingers for me, y/n. Show me how your cunt is gonna feel like when my cock is gonna stuff you full.”
His hand goes back to clamping over your mouth to muffle your cries while your orgasm rips through your body. Your eyes roll back, and your back arched against his abdomen, the pleasure spreading through every nerve while he’s still fucking you with his fingers, enjoying the way you’re completely undone because of him. Your cunt can’t seem to stop spasming and it’s only from his fucking fingers. 
But it slowly wears off, and he releases his hand from your mouth, letting you catch your breath. 
His fingers slowly leave your spent and creamy cunt, and for a split second, you’re almost disappointed. You turn your head, watching Mingi slide his stained fingers past his lips, licking them clean, and his eyes locked onto you. 
“You taste so fucking good, Princess”, he whispers, before his hands are on your throat again, pulling you in for a wet kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue, your face heating up at his words once more. 
The split second you pull away from him is when the music stops, and you hear your name being called.
“Y/n!”
Your eyes widen, and Mingi lowers his knees, letting you quickly shut your legs, letting his arm rest close to your legs, blocked by his fur coat. Thank fuck you’re in the dark. 
“This is your stop right?” Your friend asks before she turns on the interior car lights. You glance at the apartment building and sure enough, it is your apartment building. 
“Right”, you manage to answer with a forced smile. 
And as you are about to leave the car, Mingi suddenly announces, “I’ll send her up. Don’t wait for me.” He takes off his fur coat, draping it over your shoulders, quickly turning away as he pushes the car door open, ignoring the suggestive looks his group of friends were giving him before curtly saying his goodbyes and shutting the car door. 
Mingi is pretty much gentle with you as the both of you head up to your apartment, asking if you’re feeling cold, even though he’s only in a black tank top. You can’t help but gawk at how he looks even under shitty elevator lights—still so fucking hot. His fingers haven’t let go of yours yet since the both of you left the car, and he sure isn’t letting you go when the both of you reach to the door of your apartment. 
You feel so ridiculous in this oversized fur coat, but the fact that Mingi’s smell is just all over it makes you turn a blind eye to it. 
You unlock the door, pushing it open, the post nut clarity hitting, but the realisation of Mingi in a private space with you sending you mind into the gutter. 
And suddenly you feel your cunt throb again. Fuckin hell. 
“Cute place you have there”, he comments, slipping his shoes off. 
“I try to make the most out of it”, you return, taking off the fur coat, handing it back to him. 
Mingi pauses, staying near the door.
“I got no clue why I left the car like that, y/n. If you want me to leave, I can just call a cab and-“ 
His mouth runs, watching the way you’re walking towards him, and his lips snap shut when you pull him in for an open mouth kiss, his thoughts completely disappearing like they never existed. 
“Finish what you started, Minki”, you whisper when you pull away. 
For once, you like the way red looks on his pretty face, the red that disappears when he catches on, eye fucking you while thinking how fucking hot you look under normal apartment lights than the dim lights. 
His hands cup the back of your neck before his fingers are on your scalp, tugging your hair to face him, letting his lips collide with yours. You taste him so much more intensely now, and fuck does he taste like heaven. 
You feel his hands leave your head, going for your wrists instead, and he backs you up against the wall, deciding to pin your fucking wrists against the wall while stealing all of the oxygen you have left in between pants. 
His fingers trail down so lightly across your skin, you feel like you’re about to combust. 
“Is the couch fine for you?” He asks. You nod, just internally begging him to do anything to you. 
His hands slip down to your thighs, carrying you up in his arms, kissing and sucking against the skin of your neck while he navigates through your apartment. When he does find the couch (rather quickly), he lets you fall onto it, watching the way your dress rides up higher to your hips, your soaked panties coming into view, and his cock growing hard once more. 
“You know, you’re honestly killing me with that dress”, Mingi comments, his fingers tugging off your drenched panties, almost salivating over your glistening cunt. “Had to hold back from just pulling you out and fucking you.”
Oh, fucking gods. 
“That’s why we’re here now, aren’t we?” You tease, watching his satisfied grin grow bigger. 
You can’t wait for him to fuck your brains out. 
Mingi squats, letting his face press against your bare cunt, giving licks up, his tongue pressing against your clit while holding your legs apart. He thinks your whimpers and begs are like a fucking symphony—and he could listen to them over and over again while he breaks you, over and over again. 
It doesn’t last long, unfortunately, because he feels like he’s about to burst the longer he waits, his cock bulging against the fabric of his pants. 
So Mingi unbuckles his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear, his thick and long cock springs from his apparel, wet and decorated in thick precum. He gives himself quick strokes, amused by the way your face is turning a soft shade of pink. 
His thick fingers once again hold your wrists above you, lining his cock up to your pretty hole and pushing himself in, his girth taking up all space instantly. You see stars splatter beneath your eyelids as his cock stretches you out—thick and heavy. 
“Fuck. Song Mingi-“ you cry out, struggling against his grasp. 
“So fuckin tight, princess. Fuck, you feel so fucking good”, he sighs, letting himself bottom out in you, relishing in the way your face completely contorts into pleasure when he’s fully seated in you. 
And when he starts fucking you, your eyes roll back—the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you switching off most of your senses. 
You sense his arms pining your wrists are growing tired, so you do your best to tap his arm, and Mingi lets go, watching you slide his wrist down to your throat. 
You sure know how to push his buttons. 
He applies pressure and it hits all the perfect spots. A choked moan escapes you while he fucks you dumb. 
“I’d love to choke you more, princess, but I really need you to ride me right now”, Mingi whispers, his fingers leaving your throat, and he pulls his cock out. 
You climb onto his lap, lining his cock before you push yourself down, his fullness knocking the wind out of you once more. 
“Are you gonna take all of my cum like a good girl?” He hums, wiping away the tears from your eyes. You nod weakly, biting your lip. 
“That’s my good girl”, he compliments, and it makes your heart fucking soar. Mingi bounces you on his cock, groaning at the way you’re squeezing around him. “Fuck, squeeze me just like that. God, your pussy feels so fucking amazing, princess.”
“Mingi, I’m so close. Oh fuck I’m gonna-“
Mingi only holds your thighs down, watching you shake, feeling your cunt just clenching down and flutter on his cock, cream seeping down his shaft, and he groans in your ear, keeping himself deep in your pussy, his thick cum flooding into your tight cunt, listening to you curse while he forces you to ride out your high. 
“So fucking good. Mingi…” you mutter through tears and hiccup, letting Mingi kiss your tears before he slowly pulls his wet cock out of you, satisfied at the way his cum slowly trickles out of you while you catch your breath. 
Mingi waits for your mind to slowly clear, and you climb off him, but your fingers stay interlocked with his. 
“We can wash up and order food if you want”, you say, trying to avoid the fact that you’re still flushing slightly considering Song Mingi made a wreck out of you. 
But he pulls you along with him. 
“An invitation to shower together? I’ll gladly fuckin take it, princess.”
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months ago
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tell me again that you hate me
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a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.
summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 
warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy
word count: 5153
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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.
You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 
Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 
It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 
Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 
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The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.
Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 
Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.
Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 
“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”
“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 
“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”
“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”
“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”
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The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.
Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 
When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 
But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 
However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 
It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 
“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”
His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 
“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 
“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 
“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”
“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 
That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 
“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 
“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”
As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 
When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 
“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.
Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features. 
“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 
Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 
“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”
“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 
“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”
“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 
“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”
“Not particularly...”
As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 
“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 
Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 
Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 
“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”
“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”
“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 
“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 
Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”
“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”
Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 
Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 
He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 
“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”
As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”
But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.
“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.
It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 
A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  
Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?
It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 
“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.
Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 
He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 
“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”
Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 
Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 
“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.
When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 
One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 
Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 
You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 
“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 
A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 
“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”
“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 
“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”
Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 
“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 
“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 
“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 
When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 
Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.
“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 
Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 
“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  
A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 
“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”
A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 
As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 
“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.
Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 
“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”
You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.
“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”
“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 
It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 
“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 
Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 
Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 
You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.
As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 
Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 
“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”
“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”
You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 
“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 
Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”
“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”
“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 
“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”
“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 
“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 
“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 
“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”
“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 
“Say that you’re my little slut.”
“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”
Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 
One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.
“I hate you.”
“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.
“I hate you.”
“Keep going, princess.” 
And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 
Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 
When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.
“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”
“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 
And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 
Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”
You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 
“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 
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“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”
“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”
Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…
When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.
“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”
“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 
Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 
Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.
Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 
You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 
“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”
Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 
“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 
“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”
“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”
“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”
Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 
“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 
You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 
“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 
“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”
Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 
“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 
“You do look hot in normal clothes.”
“I don’t think any of this is normal…”
“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 
“Rafe…” you breathed. 
His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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withthewerewolves · 2 months ago
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My personal favorite buddie proposal idea is that Eddie sidles into a storage closet at the station one day while Buck is doing inventory and asks "hey can I talk to you as my best friend instead of as the love of my life?"
And once Buck is done having heart palpitations (love of his life! best friend!) he's like "yeah of course" and even sets aside his clipboard so he can give Eddie his full attention
And Eddie gives him a shy/smug little look because he knows what he's doing and says "so I've decided to propose to my boyfriend-" he gives Buck a second to start thinking in full sentences again (boyfriend! that's me! propose! marriage! forever! choosing me forever!) before finishing "-and I was hoping that, as my best friend, you'd come ring shopping with me"
And Buck manages to say "yeah - I'd - I'd love to" and he means the ring shopping but he also kind of means the proposal and they both know it and they spend the rest of the shift barely meeting each other's eyes and then looking away to smile and giggle like teenagers
And they do go ring shopping and they pick out something Buck really likes while pretending very seriously that Buck and Eddie's future fiancé are not the same person
But THEN, before Eddie has a chance to actually propose (he has PLANS), Buck gets him alone at the station and is all "hey, so, can I ask something as your best friend instead of as the love of your life?"
And Eddie is like this sounds familiar but he's also having heart palpitations because he's just as gone on Buck as Buck is on him, so he says "yes of course"
And Buck is like "I think my boyfriend is going to propose, and when I say yes I want to have a ring for him-" he gives Eddie a second to be able to form thoughts beyond he's going to say yes!!!! even though he KNEW he was going to say yes, before continuing "-so I was hoping my best friend would help me pick one out"
And Eddie feels a little drunk (is this what Buck felt when he did this to him?) but he says "I'd love to, yeah" and they spend the rest of the shift not getting farther than a foot away from each other and smiling down at whatever they're pretending to be working on
So they go ring shopping again. They get the same salesperson, and pretend very seriously that this is a return favor for Buck helping Eddie last week, and that they're definitely marrying different people, they're just here as each other's best friend
And Buck carries the ring they picked out for Eddie around in his pocket until Eddie proposes because he wants to be ready, and it takes a couple weeks for Eddie to get it all set up and they both feel electrified the whole time
I don't know how Eddie eventually proposes, but Buck loves it and cries and says yes and gives Eddie his ring, and all their friends are very happy for them while also thinking how insufferable they are
And then they live happily ever after
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sttoru · 7 months ago
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 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. dom!sylus x female reader. smut, pwp. gun play. degrading. cowgirl position. power trip. hunter - prey-ish? reader gets called ‘sweetie, kitten, sweet girl, slut.’ not proof read !
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“careful, sweetie,” sylus’ husky voice rings in your ear. your hand trembles as you hold onto the large hand that’s pointing a gun right at your chest. you’re sweating—not knowing if it’s from fear or excitement.
the scene was a familiar one. you’ve been in this position before - on his lap - with a gun involved. yet this time you’re both so intimately connected; your clothes scattered around the velvet chair, your hips trembling as you ride him. the same man you swore you hated.
“it’s quite funny, no?” sylus inquires, unable to hold back a grunt when you stare at him with such a drunken look in your eyes. you’re drunk on the adrenaline, the barrel of the loaded gun pressed against your flesh. a hint of a smirk tugs at his lips, “how the tables have turned.”
your hips don’t stop moving. you pull them up and push them back down, the back and forth rhythm not to be missed as well. he fills you up too well—his pink tip prodding at your sweet spot with precision. it doesn’t help your case at all. especially when you’re whimpering and moaning about how good it feels.
it’s you who’s supposed to hold that gun up to his chest. that’s how it went last time, but alas. this is your second failed attempt to show your dominance over him, onychinus’ leader.
“it’s also quite pathetic to see you give in so easily to me, kitten,” sylus continues, teasing and belittling you. he presses the barrel right above your heart, his finger right on top of the trigger. your breath hitches and yet you can’t help yourself—your body seeks the pleasure by itself. he scoffs, “so desperate. is it that good? does it feel that good to have me all the way inside you?”
you shiver at his words. you can’t respond when you’re busy moaning the name of the silver haired man. he’s so big, you’re absolutely cock drunk on him. you don’t want to admit it. you refuse to, though the answer to his question is still as clear as day.
“sh-shut up,” you try to retort through a choked up moan. the lewd noises of your wetness swallowing him up to the base repeatedly, with each thrust, echoes through the room. it’s not like sylus can deny the fact that it turns him on to see you like this neither; he’s rock hard.
sylus shakes his head with a low chuckle. “you seem to have forgotten that you don’t have the upper hand right now,” he sighs, the metal of the gun gliding up your skin to your chin, tilting your head back. your eyes widen and your hand squeezes his larger one that held the gun.
he bites back a groan when your sloppy cunt tightens up around him instinctively, “do you need me to remind me of your place, sweetie?”
“or do you simply like putting yourself in harm’s way?” sylus adds, his free hand guiding your hips in a strangely gentle manner, just so his fat cock could hit all the right spots. “either is fine by me. i love to tame disobedient prey like you.”
he leans his head back and his red eyes roam over your body. your skin is glimmering with sweat, the dim light in the room giving it a soft glow. his gaze stops at your bouncing tits for a second before returning to your face.
“i—i just want..” you stammer through whimpers. you can barely think, your thoughts are an absolute mess. you don’t know if you should fear the fact that your life is being played with while you’re in such a compromising position, or if you should just enjoy the addicting sensations the situation brings along.
sylus encourages you to keep on talking by tapping the barrel of his gun beneath your chin again, his right eye faintly glowing a brighter red. you gulp as you bounce on his dick. you know your inner desires and needs have already been exposed to sylus—he probably knows what you need, yet he’ll still make you say it to him directly.
“i just.. need you,” you finally manage to form a proper sentence. you’re unable to take your words back. you don’t care at the moment; you’re focused on chasing that sweet high.
sylus’s long fingers tighten their grip around your hip. he closes his eyes for a second to recompose himself before opening them again. “who knew you’d be such a needy slut,” he mutters underneath his breath, trying to keep calm when you admitted to needing him in such a whiny tone.
“need me, hm?” sylus grins as he finally got you to be vocal about your true needs. “need me to fill you up that bad? to pound you brainless? to have you submit to me while i show this slutty cunt of yours what it’s like to have me fucking it?”
the words fall off his tongue with such ease. the sudden dirty talk and change in tone makes your stomach do flips. his free hand reaches up to tug your hair back harshly while he whispers that in your ear.
“yes, fuck—yes, need it so bad,” you nod mindlessly. you don’t care about anything as you’re riding him. you’re willingly handing your destiny over to sylus—which drives him insane. the thrill of having that power over you makes his finger tremble on the trigger. the power trip is messing with his brain.
his eyes darken for a few seconds while he regains his composure. he can’t wait to flip you over and have his way with you.
sylus grins before kissing your ear and neck, bucking his hips up to hear you mewl from pleasure. he pulls away from your skin to look at you with his signature smirk, teasing you once more, “then, who am i to deny my sweet girl?”
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konigsblog · 8 months ago
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Simon Riley is the type to smoke while eating you out. 🚬
“Attagirl, deep breaths f’me.”
The thick and noticeable smell of tobacco and liquor fills your nostrils, your head thrown back at the addictive sensation between your supple thighs. Simon nips your skin with his sharp canines, his head between your thighs, breathing deep into your pussy before rolling his warm, wet tongue over your slick folds. His boner aches inside of the tight confines of his boxers, leaking pre-cum while he devours your soaking, drooling cunt.
He takes long drags from the cigarette held between his two thick, calloused fingers. Your whines mewls cause his dick to harden and twitch, the sound of your pleasure driving him utterly insane. Your sweet, familiar, and comforting taste lingers on his lips, mixed with the taste of alcohol when he presses his lips against yours, scoffing at your desperation and greediness. Simon can't get enough of your lazy, desperate reaction - how drunk you are off of the pleasure and ecstasy. You lay there on his leather couch, in Simon's apartment, grinding back and forth against his face needily.
”There we go, princess. Rock those beautiful hips- Good girl.” The gravelly and hoarse sound of Simon's voice leaves your thighs trembling and shaking, your orgasm inching closer with each stroke he makes with his tongue. Simon can feel as his boxers become sticky and damp with his white fluids as he continues, too addicted to your taste to stop himself. He rubs his hard bulge against the couch, his nose pressed into your pussy while he dips his tongue into your slit, appreciating your sweet, delicious cum on his tongue.
Fuck, Simon could spend the rest of his life between your thighs, smoking a cigarette, and taking proper care of his beautiful girl.
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vmpireslut · 6 days ago
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nsfw. slight somno.
✮⋆˙caleb always considered himself a true gentleman, taking pride in his manners and his ability to navigate life's complexities. yet, there were times when his polished exterior would slip. like now. the way he gently cradled your body, treating you like a fragile doll, showering soft kisses on your bare skin as you slept, was irresistible to him. you felt so warm and inviting. your soft snores, which might have bothered anyone else, only made him smile.
dark hair spread across the pillow, a few strands brushing against his face, bringing a grin to his lips. he cherished these little quirks about you—the way you curled up into a cozy ball, the way your nose twitched in your dreams. to him, every little detail was another reason to fall in love with you all over again. even after a long night that lasted until dawn peeked through the sheer curtains, he still yearned for more of you. it was only six twenty-five, yet the thought of being wrapped in your warm cunt stirred him awake.
with his calloused hands, he tenderly spread your thighs, his chest pressing warmly against your back as he nestled beside you. he vowed not to disturb your slumber, but a soft, unexpected moan slipped from his lips as he nudged his tip at your entrance. “my god, you’re so perfect.” your sleeping face contorts as he feeds you inch by inch, a familiar wetness allowing him to glide in effortlessly. he lets his eyes fall shut, relishing the feeling of you squeezing his shaft as he bottoms out. instinctively your back arches slightly as he begins to thrust, body naturally reacting to the slow, deep strokes. caleb shudders, pressing sloppy, wet kisses behind your ear as he molds you.
your breath is soft, a barely audible hum filling the quiet room. he sucks in a breath, the sound sending a tingle sensation from the top of his spine to his groin, where he can feel his cock swelling. the dark haired man hand wraps around your throat, holding your chin up as his lips explore the sensitive flesh of your neck. his strokes beginning to speed up, and the slight change in angle makes you stir awake. “ngnh! caleb!?” it’s hard to articulate as your husband pounds into you, his left hand digging into your hip, pulling you back onto his cock, splitting you.
“fuck, m’sorry ah—look so pretty when you sleep. shit, she’s suckin me in!” his voice is a deep, a rumbling whisper as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning against your cheek. the hand around your throat moves to the space between your breasts, keeping you pressed firmly against his body. the slick squelch of him pistoning into you filling the room like a melody, the bed shaking from his force.
he’s completely pussy drunk.
you can feel the way his muscles tense and flex with every thrust, his breathing labored. you love this side of him. it was a rare treat to see the normally composed, cool-headed man completely come undone. you feel his hand slide down from your breast, slender fingers splayed across your lower abdomen. “gah! feel me here?” his palm rests just below your navel, applying the smallest amount of pressure.
“y-yes, oh god!” it’s almost too much to take. caleb’s fat, pulsating cock stretching your walls, the mushroom tip nudging at your cervix. the lewd sounds of his dick gliding in and out of your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your ass echoing through the room. his hand on your belly caresses the place he’s currently invading, making your head spin.
you’re a heap, moans coming out as strangled cries. his name spills from your lips, over and over like a broken record. your legs shaking as the knot in your stomach tightens, the telltale signs of your orgasm fast approach. caleb notices, of course, he notices everything.
his pace slows as his fingers find their way to your clit. you jolt, ‘s’okay. just relax.” he hums, rubbing small, firm circles against the swollen bud. “oh my gosh,” you whine, bucking back against him. it’s hard to keep your eyes from rolling back, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. he groans, biting his lip. teeth sinking into his flesh as his hips pick up the pace again, pounding into you relentlessly. the hand at your clit is unwavering, pinching, flicking, rolling the button drawing out loud moans.
the knot in your belly snaps.
warmth washes over you as your orgasm wrecks your body. white light dancing in the corner of your vision, the intensity of the pleasure sending you reeling. caleb doesn’t stop, both hands now at your hips, pulling you back against him.
he’s close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, needy.
his voice is raspy, barely above a whisper as he mutters your name, followed by a long, drawn-out whine. the warmth of his cum fills you, thrusts slowing to a gentle rocking motion. after a moment, he pulls out, watching with an unbridled hunger as his seed drips from your abused pussy. the sun begins to rise, a faint yellow light streaming through the windows. caleb reaches over to the nightstand, picking up his phone. seven am. setting the phone back down he wraps his arms around you, fingers lightly dancing across your stomach. you find yourself leaning into his embrace, humming as he presses a soft kiss to your temple.
“good morning love.”
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cumironi · 2 months ago
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SAY HIII! TO THE CAMERA s. geto
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☆ sum. stay quiet and keep him warm and hard, while he is playing video games, that’s the order. but it seems like too much hardness making you lose control of your body.
warning. non-sorcerer au, roommate geto, spank, cōck-drunk reader, petnames, dirty talk, overstim, praises, fem! reader, sugu gets annoyed when you can’t stay still, he’s annoyed because you make him lose, lol, tats-spank, háir-pulling, choking, bit exhibitionism.
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there’s something deeply comforting about having geto suguru as your roommate, a kind of unspoken reassurance that no matter how life twists and turns, you have someone in your corner. he’s not just kind; he’s the kind of person who’s genuinely considerate, remembering the little things that most people overlook. his gentle humor fills even the quietest moments with warmth, and his manners, always so natural, make you feel valued and understood. he’s the type of person who holds open doors, who waits for you when you linger on your way home, and who genuinely listens when you speak, as if your words are the only ones that matter.
living together, you’ve come to depend on him in a way that feels both new and familiar. in the late hours of the night, when silence settles over the apartment, there are moments of connection that you’ve never found with anyone else. he's seen you in every state — the vulnerable, raw moments when you’re barely holding it together, the giddy highs when you’re spilling over with excitement, and even the quiet days when all you need is to be near someone without saying a word. every joy and every sorrow, he’s there, a constant presence, filling the empty spaces of your life.
over time, though, there’s another unspoken need that starts to creep in. it’s there in the lingering glances, the way your touches linger just a moment too long, the awareness that builds between you both, each brushing touch leaving a faint trace of longing. you’ve found yourself drawn to him, in a way that goes beyond friendship, a desire simmering under the surface that you don’t dare voice. it’s been a while since you’ve had anyone to share that kind of closeness with, and every time he’s near, you can feel that need building, that craving that he seems to sense. and that ‘desire’ you crave so much, geto is there with an open arms and. . . open legs.
it was one of those days a mix of emotions swirling, a growing desire that had been building in the space between you two, bubbling to the surface. without overthinking it, you found yourself outside geto’s room, feeling a thrill as you opened the door without knocking. you were wearing only your skirt and a simple bra, skin tingling under the weight of anticipation.
geto was at his computer, focused on whatever he had been doing, but as soon as he heard the door creak open, he turned, spinning his chair around slowly. his gaze swept over you, eyes darkening with a spark of something unmistakable as he took you in. he let out a low whistle, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, clearly enjoying the view. “well,” he drawled, his voice a touch rougher, “looks like someone’s feeling bold today.”
his own appearance was casual but undeniably alluring. he wore only a pair of loose grey sweatpants, his toned chest bare, catching the soft light from the room. his long, dark hair fell loosely around his shoulders, framing his sharp features and giving him an almost untamed look that made your heart race faster. he watched you with a steady, appreciative gaze, that familiar, playful glint in his eyes turning to something deeper as his eyes traced over your form.
“you here for something, or just planning to drive me crazy?” he teased, his voice low, dripping with that lazy confidence he always wore so effortlessly. you felt your cheeks warm as you stepped into his room, but you didn’t waver, letting your gaze flicker over his chest, taking in the way his muscles shifted.
“i think you know exactly why i’m here,” you replied, keeping your voice light but letting the meaning behind your words settle between you. his smirk widened, and he straightened, reaching a hand out to you, his touch gentle but insistent as he pulled you closer.
his hand brushing your waist, guiding you to stand between his legs. his other hand came up to rest on your hip, fingers tracing small, lazy circles along your bare skin as he looked up at you.
god, the way he looked at you, with that sultry gaze sweeping over every inch of your body, made it nearly impossible to keep your composure. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare skin, each touch almost enough to send a shiver down your spine. the air between you two felt thick, electric, as if it held every unspoken thought, every lingering glance and desire that had built up over time. you could hear the faint hitch in his breath as you stepped closer, closing what little distance remained between you.
“is that right?” he murmured, voice low and rough, his tone thick with barely concealed amusement. “and what did i do to earn this little visit? not that i i’m complaining.” his fingers toyed with the edge of your skirt, tracing a slow line up your thigh that sent waves of warmth through you, each touch building a sweet tension that had you leaning in, craving more.
you couldn’t help but hum in response, letting your fingers glide over his bare shoulder blade, feeling the warmth of his skin, the solid strength beneath your touch. your other hand found its way to his hair, threading through the long, dark locks that framed his face so perfectly handsome, your fingers lingering as you gently pulled him closer.
“it’s not what you did,” you replied, your voice a low, teasing murmur, your lips close enough to brush against his ear. “it’s what you can do.” the words hung between you, dripping with anticipation, each syllable filled with a promise you knew he could hear.
geto chuckled, a warm, low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. he leaned into your touch, his hand sliding up under your skirt, fingers splaying against your skin, and you could feel the heat of his palm, the barely suppressed tension in the way he touched you.
“oh?” he drawled, tilting his head so his face was dangerously close to your bellybutton. his lips grazed the shell of your skin, his breath hot against your skin. “and what exactly is it that you need me to do, pretty girl?”
before you could answer, his hands found your waist, gently but insistently pulling you down to sit on his lap. his arm wrapped securely around your bare waist, the other hand still warm and steady on your thigh. you felt yourself sink into him, the heat of his skin against yours, the way he held you close with that effortless confidence.
you leaned in, lips close to his ear as you whispered, voice teasing but edged with a hint of urgency. “you know exactly what i want, suguru,” you murmured, your fingers tracing along his collarbone, feeling his breath hitch as you spoke. “stop pretending to be stupid.”
a lazy smirk tugged at his lips, his gaze darkening with satisfaction as he tightened his hold on you, his hand slipping higher on your thigh, tracing lazy circles that sent a spark of anticipation through you. “oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice rough with restrained desire, “i’d never be that stupid.”
geto shifted his hips, the heat of your bodies pressed together, his hand sliding slowly to the curve of your hip. there was a raw, unabashed hunger in his eyes, his gaze traveling over every inch of your exposed skin, taking in every subtle shudder, every quickening breath.
he pulled you even closer, desperate, and you could feel the tension building between the bitten of you as his other hand slid further up your skirt, his knuckles brushing over your inner thigh, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. his hand squeezed your thigh, fingers digging into your skin, an unspoken promise that sent a shiver of anticipation through you.
“if you want something,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough whisper, “all you have to do is ask.” then he leaned in, his lips trailing a warm path from your collarbone up to your shoulder, and you could feel the low rumble of his voice against your sensitive skin. he nipped at your ear, his voice a dark, lustful murmur. “beg me for it, sweetheart.”
his lips traveled back down to your neck, teeth scraping against your skin, and a small gasp escaped your lips as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. his lips curled into a satisfied smile against your flesh, and his hand slid even higher up your thigh, the heat of his touch searing through you.
“beg me,” he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. “beg me to give it to you… and i’ll give you everything you need.”
and he lies.
you sit on his lap as he games, his cock buried deep inside you, you trying to stifle moans as occasionally he thrusts up into you, barely— either too distracted by his stupid games or he just being his usual self, a fucking jerk and a tease. “such a gooood girl, baby,” he growls lowly into your ear, muting his microphone. after all, he didn’t want his teammates hearing what a good little toy you were being, taking his cock like you were.
how had things turned out like this, you wonder? you were the one that was supposed to be teasing him, not the other way around. now you were the one, stifling whimpers and moans, and almost begging him to fuck you.
“s-suguru, p-please..” you whimper.
he ignores you completely as he goes back to his game, turning his microphone back on, saying, “son of a bitch, you fuckers can’t do anything right, can you?” you wiggle your hips on top of him, trying to get him to pay attention to you more, and his hand comes to rest briefly on your thigh, squeezing it tightly. a warning to knock it off. but you continue doing it. you had to take things back under your control, and what better way than by wiggling your hips, feeling him brush up against your sensitive spot, and letting out a quiet whimper.
he mutes his microphone again, letting out a warning growl, and lowly says, “y/n.. stop moving and be a good girl for me, hm?” his voice is dangerous, a sign to dare you to move even just a beat. but youuu, you tilt your head back, peering back into his face, and smile innocently. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about, suguruuu. . .”
your back was facing him as you sat on his lap, elbows resting hard on his computer desk. only you cute pink skirt wrap loosely around your waist with no underwear. your bare nipples pressed against the hard surface. geto’s fingers dig into your thigh, holding you still as he continues playing his game, ignoring your attempts at seduction. his breathing grows heavier, the scent of his arousal filling the air between you. he’s clearly struggling to focus on the match with you writhing atop him like this.
“y/n... i swear if you keep this up, i’m going to bend you over my desk and fuck you senseless,” he warns through gritted teeth, voice menacing. despite the threat, there’s an unmistakable note of desire lacing his words.
“now be a good girl and sit still,” he warned, his hand reaches up to grab your hip, pulling you down harder onto his throbbing erection and continue to cockwarming him while he’s playing games with his friends— stupid gojo satoru. a choked gasp escapes your lips as he grinds up into you, stretching you deliciously around his girth.
his grip tightens on your hip, guiding your movements to grind yourself against him even more. he doesn’t care who hears anymore, his mind consumed with thoughts of claiming you right here and now. his game character takes a hit from an enemy player the moment you do a harsh slammed on his cock, causing him to curse loudly into his mic.
“fuck! ’m distracted,” he admits before cutting himself off mid-sentence, realizing just how loud he’d been. he quickly mutes his mic once more, though he makes no move to stop grinding you against him. “that’s what you wanted, isn’t it, y/n? for me to lose focus so i could finally give you what you've been craving.”
his hand slides up your spine from your hip, gripping your neck firmly enough to let you know he means business. “i’m not going to repeat myself y/n, stop fucking moving.” his other hand comes up to slap lightly against your ass after retreating from the keyboard, leaving a warm imprint on your skin before he pushes your chest further to his desk and continues to play his game. gasp!
geto’s dominant grip on your hips and neck sends shivers down your spine, your body responding instinctively to his commanding touch. the sharp slap on your ass makes you gasp and gasp, the sting mixing with the pleasure of having your bare bottom exposed to him.
despite his warnings, you can’t help but subtly rock your hips, seeking friction against his thick length still buried deep within you. your upper teeth sinking lowered on your lower lips, a subtle way to hide the desperate moaning. your breath hitches as he pushes you harder against the desk, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body beneath you.
as geto focuses back on his game, you find yourself leaning forward more— your nipples touching the cold surface making you shiver, bracing your hands on the edge of the desk under you. this position allows you to sink deeper onto his cock, your inner walls clenching reflexively around him.
with each subtle roll of your hips, geto lets out a low groan, his focus waverting from his game momentarily. he pulls you closer, forcing his cock deeper inside you until you feel every inch of him pressing against your most sensitive spots.
“fucking hell, y/n...” he curses under his breath, trying to maintain some semblance of control. but it’s clear that he’s losing the battle against both his own desires and yours, even against his own stupid games. he smacks your ass again, this time harder, leaving a bright red mark on your flesh.
“be still!” he demands, his voice laced with both frustration and lust. his fingers dig into your neck, applying pressure just shy of pain. the smack on your ass sends another jolt of pleasure through you, your body arching back against him instinctively. the mix of pain and pleasure leaves you panting, your pussy clamping down on his cock as if begging for more.
despite his command, you can’t seem to obey. instead, you press your breasts further into the desk, enjoying the sensation of your hardened nipples rubbing against the cool surface. each movement sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, intensifying the ache building between your legs.
“suguru... please,” you whisper, your voice barely above a whimper. the desperation in your tone is undeniably begging. geto’s grip on your neck tightens, his thumb brushing over your pulse point rhythmically as he fights against the urge to simply throw caution to the wind and claim you right then and there. instead, he focuses back on his game, cursing loudly when his character takes another hit.
“shit... y/n, shut up before i really lose my shit,” he growls, punctuating each word with a deep thrust of his hips. his cock surges deeper inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes stars burst behind your closed eyelids. his other hand losing the touch of his keyboard for a beat to sending a slaps down on your ass again, this time in slow deliberate strokes meant to draw out your pleasure. he’s punishing you for making him lose focus, but also rewarding you for being such a tease.
geto’s punishing thrusts send waves of ecstasy crashing over you, your nails digging into the desktop as you struggle to hold back cries of pleasure. the slow, deliberate slaps on your ass echo through the room, each impact sending tingles racing up your spine.
“ahh!” you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your pleas growing more desperate as the coil of tension inside you winds tighter and tighter. the combination of his thick cock stretching you open and the relentless stimulation to your sensitive ass has you teetering on the brink of climax. you can feel the telltale fluttering in your core, signaling your impending release.
geto’s jaw clenches as he battles to keep his composure, refusing to let go and indulge in the sweet release that beckons him. his fingers waltz down from your neck to the curve of your hip, tightening on the soft flesh, his grip bordering on bruising as he holds you in place, denying you the friction you crave.
“not yet, y/n... you don’t get to come until i say so,” he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of restraint. his hips buck upward sharply, burying himself to the hilt inside you for the countless times and grinding against your clit with a forceful thrust.
he repeats this motion several times, using your body for his own pleasure, before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in with brutal intensity. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your muffled moans and his guttural groans.
the rough treatment only fuels your desire, pushing you closer to the edge with each powerful thrust. your pussy clamps down on his cock, milking him for more as you ride the wave of pleasure he’s forcing upon you. the way you roll your hips like you are either desperately looking for the climax you’ve been craving for the past hours, trying to get revenge for keeping you waiting, or just simply trying to suck his soul— geto are fine either way.
“pleaseee. . . sugu’—’m gonna cum,” you stutter out, the words trailing off into a series of whimpers. your inner walls clench and flutter around his cock, pulsing with the intensity wanting of your release, “please, ’m sorry,” you cry. your body convulses, each tremor rippling through you as you cling desperately to the desk.
geto grunts, feeling your walls clamp around him, urging him towards his own climax. but he refuses to give in just yet, determined to make you pay for distracting him with your teasing. “not good enough... beg properly,” he commands, his voice a low growl. he slams into you again, driving his cock even deeper than before, stretching your inner walls to their limit— kissing your cervix each time. his hand moves from your hip to your dripping cunt, his fingers delving into your wetness, stroking at your swollen clit.
he keeps up this merciless pace, alternating between hard thrusts and swift withdrawals, driving you to the brink of madness. your pleas become more frantic, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensations. “please— let me cum, i need to...” you gasp out, your voice hitching on each word as you fight to maintain coherence.
each stroke of his fingers against your clit sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, amplifying the ache in your core. the combination of his thick cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers working your clit has you teetering on the precipice of obliviation.
“i’m sorry, i’m sooo sorry— pleasee...” you sob, your plea turning into a keening wail as you about to reach your pea only for geto to lift you up off his cock before slamming back into your pussy— playing with your climax and just generically being an asshole.
geto leans over you, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispers darkly, “not yet... not till you learn your lesson.” with each thrust, he aims to prove his dominance, showing no mercy as he punishes you for your disobedience. his fingers never relent from their torment of your clit, adding fuel to the fire that’s consuming you from within.
he reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly before pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. the sharp pinch sends an unexpected surge of pleasure coursing through you, making your back arch off the desk and the game long forgotten.
“beg better...” he taunts, knowing full well that he’s playing with fire. without saying a word to his friends, geto left his game to open his computer camera. he grab a fistful of your hair to pull your face away from the desk. a soft light illuminating your face. geto smile to his camera as he saw your fucked-face, ruined by your tears and your mascara.
he pulls you closer until your back touches his sweaty chest before snake his arm under your thighs and opens your legs wider to his camera. “say hi, to the camera y/n,” he whisper in your ear as he rest his chin on shoulder. your breath comes in short gasps, each thrust of his cock sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. the split pinch on your nipple only adds to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.
you whimper, your voice choked with unshed tears. the sight of his hand gripping your hair tightly sends a shiver down your spine, reminding you who’s in control. with the way he pressing your back against his chest, knees straight glue to your chest, you can’t help but squirm on top of him. his heavy breathing in your ear, the warmth of his body against yours—it’s all too much.
“hi. . .” you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible. the words are directed towards the camera, but they’re laced with desperation and pleading.
geto chuckles, dark and mocking, at your feeble attempt to address the camera, his amusement evident in the way he tightens his grip on your hair. he increases the tempo of his thrusts, his cock pistoning in and out of your drenched cunt with ruthless efficiency— visible to the camera of his computer.
“that’s iiiit... look pretty while you’re getting fucked,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends chills down your spine. he watches you through the screen, purple eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as he observes your reactions. his free hand trails down your body, exploring every curve and crevice with possessive intent. he cups your breast, giving it a firm squeeze before smacking it hard enough to leave a red print on your skin.
“still think you can distract me?” he asks, his tone laced with challenge.
your body quivers under the onslaught of sensations, each thrust of his cock sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the rhythm of his thrusts. “n-no—can’t, i won’t,” you stammer out, your voice choked with emotion. the sting of his slap on your breast makes you flinch, but it also intensifies the heat coiling in your lower belly. despite the pain and humiliation, you find yourself pushed closer to the edge, teetering on the brink of orgasmic bliss.
geto smirks at your admission, pleased with the submission in your voice. he drives into you harder, relentlessly in his pursuit of your pleasure—and your punishment. “mmm, good girl... now cum for me,” he orders, his voice a seductive mix of command and promise. he lets go of your hair to grasp your throat, applying just enough pressure to ensure your attention remains focused on him and nothing else.
the hand that had been smacking your breasts now finds its way between your bodies, rubbing circles onto your clit while still keeping a firm hold on your throat. he watches intently, observing how your face contorts in pleasure, enjoying the sight of you succumbing to his will.
“let me hear it... let me hear how good it feels when i fuck you senseless,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument. “come on baby, i know you are dirty girl.” your entire being focuses on the sensation of his cock plunging into you, each thrust hitting spots inside you that send waves of pleasure crashing through your body. the pressure on your throat and the stimulation of your clit combine to push you closer to the edge.
a strangled moan escapes your lips, your voice breaking as you try to comply with his demand. “it- it feels so good— so fucking good...” you pant, your words punctuated by gasps and whimpers. your pussy clenches around his cock, desperate for release as you cling to the last threads of sanity.
geto grins at your words, satisfaction washing over him as he feels your pussy tightening around his throbbing member. he tightens his grip on your throat slightly, forcing a choked cry from your lips.
“that’s it... that’s my good girl,” he praises, his voice a deep rumble of approval. he quickens his pace, each thrust becoming more powerful and deliberate. the sound of your moans and the sight of your flushed face spur him on further. he wants to see you unravel, to witness the moment when pleasure overtakes reason. “cum for me... show me what a fucking mess i’ve made of you,” he grunts, his fingers rubbing furiously against your clit, eager to draw out your climax.
your body trembles on the brink of release, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive clit sends you spiraling into oblivion. you throw your head back to his shoulder, closing your eyes as you feel your toes curling and your legs shaking in the air. stars running around behind your eyelids and burst into fireworks.
a loud cry rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, your cunt clenching tightly around his cock as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body. your limbs feel weak, your mind foggy as you ride out the intensity of your climax.
“oh god, oh godddd...” you whimper, your body wracked with sobs as you struggle to regain control as geto watches you through his screen. geto relishes the feeling of your cum spasming around his cock, begging to milk him dry and sucking his cum out, and paint your velvet walls white. he lets out a low groan, his own climax building rapidly.
he continues to rub your clit mercilessly, determined to prolong your pleasure even as he approaches his own peak. his grip on your throat loosens slightly, allowing you to breathe raggedly. “look at you... crying and coming like a fucking whore,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust. he gives one final, deep thrust, burying himself completely inside you as he releases his seed deep within your womb.
your body continues to convulse with aftershocks of pleasure, your cunt still clamping sporadically around his cock. the sensation of his hot cum filling you up pushes you over the edge once more, another wave of ecstasy washing over you. through tear-filled eyes, you gaze up at the screen, meeting geto’s intense purple stare. your mouth hangs open just a wee, panting heavily as you struggle to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.
“fuck, suguru,” you whimper, your voice hoarse from crying out during your orgasms. your arms fall limply to your sides, unable to support your weight any longer. you’re utterly spent, drained of all energy and willpower, finally. all you can do is sit there on his lap, impaled on his cock, as he fills you with his essence.
geto watches you intently, drinking in the sight of your ravaged expression and trembling form. he keeps his cock buried deep inside you, relishing the feeling of his cum slowly leaking out of your used hole.
he finally releases your throat, his hands moving to cup your breasts instead, squeezing them gently as if testing their weight. he strokes your nipples with his thumbs, teasing them back to hardness. “such a beautiful mess,” he whispers, his tone filled with pride and satisfaction. he reaches up to gently wipe away some of the tears trailing down your cheeks, his touch surprisingly tender given the rough sex you just endured.
once he’s satisfied with your appearance, he leans back in his chair, pulling you against his chest as he cradles you in his strong arms. he strokes your hair soothingly, humming a soft melody that seems to vibrate through his body and into yours.
“so beautiful,” he coos, his voice a warm caress against your ear, eyes meeting yours in the land of his screen. “shame we’re only roommate,” he smiling softly before kissing your forehead. your body molds against his, seeking comfort and reassurance after the intense session. struggling the way your body trembling, with the energy left you move to face him, nuzzle into his neck and curl up on his lap, breathing in his scent as you slowly come down from the high of your multiple orgasms.
you let out a soft sigh, your breath tickling his skin. despite the tenderness of the moment, you can’t help but feel a pang of sadness at his words. as much as you crave his touch and desire him intensely, you know that this is all it can ever be—a secret tryst between roommates.
“yeah, what a shame,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. you trail off, not daring to finish the thought aloud. you know it would be futile to hope for more, to dream of a future where suguru could be yours openly and without shame. geto holds you close, his arms encircling your waist possessively. he tilts your chin up with one finger, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.
“don’t look so sad, kitten,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “we have this, don’t we? these moments, just you and me...” he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. his tongue delves into your mouth, exploring and claiming every inch of you. when he finally pulls away, you’re both left panting softly.
“i know it’s not ideal,” he admits, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “but it’s better than nothing, isn’t it? at least we can have this... this connection.” he smiles ruefully, a hint of melancholy in his eyes. “and who knows?”
you nod slowly, trying to convince yourself that yes, this is enough. it’s not ideal, but it’s something—something real and raw and incredibly satisfying. you capture his hand and press it against your cheek, holding it there as you gaze into his eyes. “yeah, whatever,” you agree softly.
you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm before releasing his hand. you snuggle back into his embrace, feeling contented and oddly fulfilled. maybe this was all you needed after all—to share these stolen moments with geto, to experience the depth of emotion and physical intimacy that he alone could provide.
geto’s smile widens at your acceptance, relief washing over him with hummed followed along after. he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulling you flush against his muscular frame. “whatever indeed,” he chuckles, the vibrations of his laughter resonating through your body. he nuzzles your hair affectionately, inhaling your scent deeply.
“i’m glad we understand each other, kitten,” he says softly, his voice tinged with warmth. “now, how about we take a nap? i think we’ve earned it after that intense session.” he settles back in his chair, cradling you in his lap as he reclines comfortably. his cock, still semi-hard, presses against your ass, a constant reminder of your recent activities.
“just rest here with me,” he whispers, stroking your back soothingly. “let’s recharge our batteries for the next time.” geto grins, a devilish glint in his purple eyes. “what a sweet shit-talker,” you mutter, too tired or maybe too much of a coward to say it out loud.
the soft insult making the raven-haired man snort, “well, aren’t you a cynic?” his hand moves to stroke your hair, his touch gentle yet firm. “but hey, even the biggest cynics need a little sweetness now and then, right?” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “and besides, i’m just looking out for my favorite roommate.” he winks, his smirk playful yet dangerous.
you roll your eyes, attempting to put up a facade of indifference, but you can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “oh, so i’m your favorite, huh?” you retort weakly, leaning into his touch. “i must be so honored.”
he lets out another of those low laughs, the sound sending a shiver through you. “oh, you should be,” he says, his voice lilting with playful arrogance. “i don’t just let anyone sit on my lap, you know. you should count yourself lucky, sweetheart.”
you let yourself relax in his embrace, the warmth of his body surrounding you like a comforting blanket. his hands continue their soothing motions, roaming over your back and hair, lulling you into a state of blissful contentment. despite your exhaustion, a cheeky thought crosses your mind as you snuggle closer to him.
“favorite roommate, huh?” you tease, your voice low and sultry. “i thought i was your only roommate.”
geto chuckles once again, his chest rumbling against yours. “ah, semantics,” he replies, his voice a mix of amusement and feigned nonchalance. “details, details. my favorite… my only… same difference, really.” he pulls you even closer, his arms encircling you like a warm, muscular embrace. “besides,” he murmurs, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck. “you're the only roommate i need.”
you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of his chest rumbling with his quiet chuckle, his voice laced with that familiar mix of amusement and teasing. his arms tightened around you, drawing you closer until there was hardly any space between you, his embrace both comforting and exhilarating.
as his lips found that sensitive spot on your neck, a soft sigh escaped you, and you leaned into his touch, letting your fingers trail gently along his shoulder. the way he held you, the warmth of his breath against your skin, everything felt like second nature, the kind of closeness that only he could bring.
snuggling closer, you let out a quiet laugh, your eyes half-closed as you nestled against him. “cheeky bastard,” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you relaxed into his arms. his warmth enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, letting the moment wrap around you like a gentle haze.
his lips curved into a smirk against your skin, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your back. “damn right i am,” he replied, his voice low and amused. he shifted in his chair, his muscular arms flexing as he pulled you even closer. you were practically pressed flush against him now, the heat of his body seeping through your skin, a comforting and exciting presence.
geto hums, a pleased sound that vibrates through his chest. his fingers continue their gentle, soothing motions, tracing invisible patterns on your skin, as if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body. “but i prefer the term ‘charming, irresistible bastard,’ thank you very much,” he replies jokingly. “and besides, you like it when i’m cheeky.”
a laugh escapes you as his words sink in, a warm, playful sound that melts into the air around you. “i don’t know where you got that idea,” you reply, your voice light with mock indignation. “i never said i liked it when you’re cheeky.”
but even as you deny it, your arms find their way around his bare waist, pulling yourself closer, and you can feel his warmth seeping into you, steady and grounding. the rhythmic beat of his heart thumps under your ear, a soothing lull that makes the rest of the world feel like it’s melting away.
with a soft, relieved sigh, you let yourself relax into him, the tension slowly leaving your body as you settle in his embrace. it’s moments like this—his warmth, his quiet hum, the way his fingers trace gentle patterns on your back—that remind you of how safe and at home you feel with him.
geto's lips curve into a satisfied smirk as he feels you relax against him, as if he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you. his arms wrap even tighter around you, enveloping you in a comforting embrace.
“mmm,” he murmurs, the sound of a low vibration in his chest. “deny it all you want, sweetheart. but we both know you secretly find my cheeky behavior adorable,” he punctuates his words with a light nip at your neck, a teasing gesture that sends a shiver through you.
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diamonddaze01 · 3 months ago
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baby, darling, light of my entire life
pairing: csc x fem!reader genre: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, slice of life | wc: 2.4k au: married au! warning: alcohol consumption (by the reader) | rating: e for everyone
summary: it's laughable how much you forget when you drink.
a/n: one day when i say i’m writing a drabble i will actually write a drabble. one day. that day is not today. // the cheol angst is taking forever so here have some fluff as a precursor // flashbacks in italics!
“WOW,” you shout (very loudly, he thinks) in Seungcheol’s ear. “YOU’RE LIKE, REALLY PRETTY!” 
Seungcheol flinches, rubbing his ear as your voice cuts through the pounding bass of the club. The flashing lights reflect off the crowd around you, turning everything into a blur of motion, but all Seungcheol can focus on is you—his overly drunk wife—looking up at him with wide, dazzled eyes like he’s some stranger you’ve just met.
He had known this would happen. Letting you go out with Jeonghan, Joshua, and their girlfriends without him was practically inviting chaos into the night. He would’ve joined you if work hadn’t held him back, and guilt had gnawed at him all evening for canceling plans yet again (was it guilt, or fear of retribution from Jeonghan? He’d never tell). He’d figured he could catch up with you at the club before things got too crazy.
Clearly, he’d been wrong.
When Seungcheol finally arrives, the table your group has reserved is a mess of empty glasses, and the dance floor is packed with bodies swaying to the beat. It isn’t hard to spot Jeonghan trying to keep you out of trouble—tall and exasperated, attempting to pull you away from a guy you seem hellbent on kicking in the balls.
“I’LL LET YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE A BOYFRIEND,” you screech, words slurring together and voice so loud Seungcheol can hear it on the other side of the dance floor. “AND HE’S THE BESTESTEST - LET GO OF ME!”
Jeonghan, bless his soul, is no match for your drunken ferocity, and lets out a startled yelp as you yank your hands free from his grip and stalk away in a huff. Seungcheol watches with growing amusement as you stumble toward where he stands on the dance floor, eyes lighting up the second you spot him.
“WOW,” you repeat, stopping just inches from him, blinking up at him with childlike awe. “YOU’RE LIKE, REALLY PRETTY.”
Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle under his breath. Your wobbling stance, the way your gaze fixes on him with the same starry-eyed amazement as if you’re seeing him for the first time—it’s all too familiar. He leans in slightly, humoring you.
“Oh really?” he teases, though his lips twitch with amusement. You’re giving him the same starry-eyed look you gave him when you first confessed—though, admittedly, you’re significantly less intoxicated now. Well… maybe not that much less. “You think so?”
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You’d had one too many drinks, laughing hysterically with Jeonghan and Joshua about something stupid—something Seungcheol couldn't even remember now. All he could remember was the way your eyes had kept flickering to him, playful but shy, as if you had something on your mind but weren’t quite sure how to say it. He’d leaned in close, pretending to listen to Jeonghan’s nonsense, but really, he was trying to get closer to you.
“Hey, Cheol,” you slurred that night, your voice softer than the buzz of the club, but enough to catch his attention. Your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, your hair falling messily into your eyes, but there was a different look behind them this time—something more serious.
“Yeah?” Seungcheol had leaned in, smiling softly. You were always cute when you were drunk, but tonight, something felt... different. You weren’t just tipsy; you were nervous.
“I have a secret,” you whispered, as if you were sharing the world’s biggest conspiracy.
Seungcheol blinked, amused. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
You took a deep breath, looking around as if you were checking for eavesdroppers before meeting his gaze again. “I...I think you’re really pretty - like. REALLY PRETTY,” you blurted out, your eyes wide with sincerity. “And I think I really, really like you.”
The words hung in the air between you, and Seungcheol remembered feeling his heart skip a beat. He’d liked you for months at that point—he was pretty sure the whole group knew it—but you’d never given him any real sign that you felt the same way. Until now.
“You like me, huh?” Seungcheol had teased, leaning closer, his lips inches from yours. “Or are you just saying that because you’re drunk?”
You had frowned, swaying slightly, but your hands had reached for him, gripping his shirt tightly as if he might disappear. “No, I mean it. I like you,” you had insisted, your eyes growing glassy, a little too honest for your own good. “I don’t wanna be just friends anymore. I want you to be mine.”
Seungcheol’s chest had swelled with affection. “Well,” he had whispered back, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, “I think I’ve been yours for a long time, baby.”
You had blinked at him, confusion flickering in your eyes before a slow, wide smile spread across your lips. “Wait, really?” you asked, the disbelief clear in your voice.
Seungcheol had chuckled, pulling you into his arms then, your confession making his heart race. “Yeah, really,” he whispered before finally closing the distance, pressing his lips against yours.
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Seungcheol’s heart swells as he looks at you, those same glassy, honest eyes reflecting an undeniable truth. In this moment, even if you don’t fully recognize him, he can feel it—the love you hold for him is woven into every glance, every flicker of emotion. It’s a warmth that wraps around him, grounding him despite the chaos.
“Yeah,” you breathe, nodding vigorously as if this is the most important fact you’ve ever shared. “But I can’t talk to you,” you add in a whisper, glancing around as if someone might overhear. “I have a boyfriend.”
Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching at your secrecy. “A boyfriend, huh?”
You nod, taking a wobbly step closer. Your hand lands on his arm, fingers curling around the fabric of his jacket like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling over. “Mhm. He’s got these big, strong arms… like yours,” you muse, eyes drifting over his frame with an approving once-over. “And the cutest smile ever. And—wait, are you his twin?” you ask, your voice suddenly full of suspicion.
Seungcheol barely manages to contain his laughter. “No, baby, I’m not his twin.”
Your face brightens again. “Good, because I’m not allowed to flirt with anyone who’s not him,” you declare, though the way you’re still clutching his arm suggests otherwise. “But you’re really pretty, so don’t get any ideas.”
You turn to walk away and suddenly whip back around, pointing an accusing finger in his face. He almost falls over. “And DON’T call me baby! Only my boyfriend can call me that.”
Seungcheol lets out a long, suffering sigh, rubbing a hand over his face to hide his grin. “Baby…”
“HEY! NO!”
He steals a glance at Jeonghan, who has now joined Joshua and their girlfriends at the edge of the dance floor, clearly done with playing babysitter. Jeonghan gives him a knowing smirk, mouthing good luck before turning away. Seungcheol’s patience wears thin, but he can’t help the fond smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you, swaying slightly under the flashing lights of the club. You’re an adorable mess: cheeks flushed from alcohol, eyes wide and glassy as they struggle to focus on him. Every time the music pulses, your body sways, and Seungcheol instinctively tightens his grip on your waist to keep you steady.
“Baby. Darling. Light of my entire life.” His hands slide from your waist to your shoulders, squeezing gently, trying to ground you in the midst of your drunken haze. He crouches slightly, so he’s at eye level with you, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a tenderness that makes your heart skip. You blink up at him, clearly confused, your brows knitting together as if trying to figure out a puzzle too complicated for your current state.
“I. Am. Your. Husband,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, almost as though speaking to a child.
Your eyes widen dramatically, hands flying to your chest as if struck by some earth-shattering revelation. “No way!” you gasp, your voice filled with pure astonishment. Your gaze roams over him as if you’re seeing him for the very first time. The lights of the club flicker against his face, casting shadows over his sharp features, and for a second, even in your drunken state, you marvel at just how beautiful he is. “Are you serious?!” you whisper, your tone full of awe.
Seungcheol closes his eyes for a brief moment, fighting back the laughter bubbling in his chest. He leans in, closer this time, until his lips brush against your ear. The familiar warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine. “Yes, I am very serious,” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice sending butterflies into your already churning stomach.
You blink up at him again, head tilting slightly as if processing this newfound information is a monumental task. The room seems to spin a little, and you reach out instinctively, clutching at his arms to steady yourself. “But…” you start, your voice trailing off as you bite your lip, your brows furrowing in deep confusion. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I’m married?”
Seungcheol groans softly, though a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He pulls you in by the waist, his strong arms wrapping around you like a protective barrier from the chaos around you. “You were at the wedding, baby,” he says, exasperation dripping from every word, though his tone is laced with affection. “You were the bride.”
Your eyes flutter as you stare up at him, still trying to wrap your mind around this incredible information. The flickering lights above, the faint scent of alcohol and sweat from the club, the warmth of Seungcheol’s arms around you—it all feels dreamlike. “Wait, so… you’re my boyfriend and my husband?” you ask, your voice rising in a mix of disbelief and wonder.
“Yup,” he says with a soft chuckle, his dimpled smile deepening as he looks down at you. That smile, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, sends a rush of warmth through your already tipsy mind. Even in your inebriated state, the sight of it makes your heart race. “You really hit the jackpot, huh?”
“NO. WAY,” you repeat, this time louder, your voice filled with awe as you step back slightly, your eyes scanning him again as if to check if this is all real. The music pounds in your ears, but you can barely hear it now over the sound of your own giddiness. “And… do we live together? Like, in a house?”
Seungcheol lets out another soft laugh, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. His fingers linger for a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek before resting gently on your shoulder. “Yes, baby, we do. You even picked out the curtains.”
The memory of your shared home floods your mind—each detail a testament to your love. Sunlight pours through the cheerful curtains you’ve chosen, illuminating the cozy living room where laughter echoes like music. The kitchen, with its warm scents of your culinary experiments and his late-night snacks, feels alive with the essence of you. Every nook and cranny speaks of the warmth you’ve woven into his life, transforming a mere house into a home, brimming with love and memories.
Your eyes widen in recognition, and you gasp, your hands clapping over your mouth. “And they’re so nice!” you exclaim, shaking your head in disbelief. “I have great taste.” You pause, narrowing your eyes at him as another thought pops into your alcohol-clouded brain. “Does my boyfriend—uh, husband,” you correct yourself with a dramatic flair, pointing a finger at him as if delivering an important verdict, “does he know how lucky he is?”
Seungcheol can’t hold back his laughter this time. It’s rich and warm, rumbling from his chest as he pulls you closer, his arms snug around your waist. “Oh, trust me, he knows,” he replies, his voice softening as he presses a tender kiss to your temple.
Even when you can’t remember him, Seungcheol feels a swell of gratitude for your love—for the quiet mornings entangled in the sheets, for spontaneous late-night adventures, for the way your laughter brightens his day.
You sigh in contentment, leaning into his chest, the weight of your body completely sinking into his warmth. The booming bass of the club seems to fade into the background as you melt against him, finding solace in his steady heartbeat and familiar scent. “He’s so lucky,” you mumble, your voice barely audible against the fabric of his shirt, but Seungcheol hears it loud and clear.
He smiles, brushing his lips across the top of your head. “He really is.”
For a moment, the world around you both seems to pause. The chaotic energy of the club, the distant chatter, and the bright lights all fade as you stand wrapped in each other’s arms, content in this little bubble of warmth. But then, just as quickly, you pull back, your brows furrowed in concentration. You blink up at him, still slightly suspicious. “Wait… does this mean I have to go home with you?”
Seungcheol’s deep chuckle reverberates through his chest as he gently brushes a stray hair from your face, his thumb lingering against your cheek. “Yeah, baby, that’s usually how marriage works,” he replies, his voice dripping with amusement.
You frown, trying to piece everything together in your hazy mind. "But I don’t want to leave the club yet… we’re having fun, right?” you ask, your tone almost pleading, as though the thought of leaving this electric energy behind is too much to bear.
At that, Seungcheol’s gaze hardens a little as he leans down, glinting with unspoken promises. He presses a kiss under your ear, relishing in the way you shiver and press against him (he can’t help himself— the dress you’re wearing right now is sin incarnate). His lips linger against your skin for a moment longer, feeling your heart rate speed up at his antics. “We’ll have even more fun at home,” he murmurs, his voice deep and sultry; he smirks when you stumble a little in his grip, knees growing weak.
But of course, he’s not getting lucky tonight—you pull back just as quickly as you melted in his arms. You squint at him, narrowing your eyes as suspicion creeps in, your drunken mind still struggling to grasp the concept. “You’re not just saying that because you’re so pretty, right?”
He raises an eyebrow, leaning in until his face is mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your lips. His dark eyes sparkle with mischief as his voice drops to a low, teasing whisper. “You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”
For a long moment, you stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind trying to decide whether or not to kiss him right then and there. The world seems to slow around you, the only thing you can focus on is him—the way his lips hover so close to yours, the way his arms wrap securely around you, and the soft, affectionate look in his eyes. Finally, you let out a dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes playfully.
“Fine,” you say, leaning in slightly, your lips brushing his with the faintest touch. “But only because you’re so pretty.”
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fushiguro-megloomy · 2 months ago
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[part 2] pairing: modern au!viktor x artist!reader prompt: “if somebody were to kiss me, i’d want that person to be you” tags: you're jayces childhood bff, no use of y/n, alcohol, heavy kissing, drunk kissing, basically just a bunch of buildup towards a smutty fwb part two???, viktor being a menace wc: 4k notes: AU where nobody is sick or dying yay! also i think i managed to keep this pretty gn!reader but any future parts will be afab/fem art is from pinterest, dividers from chachachannah & webc00re
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You never meant for things to get this far. You told yourself it was just a little fun, harmless and fleeting—nothing more. You had a career to focus on, friendships in the balance. But now, here you are, pacing the living room carpet thin, your cuticles raw from nervous chewing, and your thoughts spiraling into places you swore they’d never go.
It feels juvenile, almost laughable, like some smitten teenager waiting by the phone and sneaking kisses in shadowed corners. You were supposed to be above this, weren’t you? I mean, as a grown adult you should know how to keep it casual, uncomplicated. 
But nothing about this is simple anymore. Not the friendship. Not the secrets. And certainly not the way your heart betrays you every time his name crosses your mind.
It definitely wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Moving back to the city hadn’t been on the bingo card for this year, but here you were. Your life had been tucked away in the quiet of rural landscapes, where your art had room to breathe—endless skies, rolling hills, and the kind of solitude that made inspiration flow without any distractions. But your career had expanded, and with that expansion came the relentless pressure of galleries, art buyers, and a future that demanded more from you than that peaceful escape ever could. 
So, the city had called you back. Concrete towers, crowded streets, the city offered more. Shows. Opportunities. Jayce. The only thing about this cold, steel jungle that still felt like home. Jayce—your childhood friend, your constant in a world that had never stopped changing. Thrown together since you were practically in diapers, he was the one piece of your old life that had somehow survived the years and distance between you two. And now, after what felt like an eternity, here he was, sprawled across your tiny couch, looking too comfortable for someone who was just supposed to be a guest. The apartment was a bit small, as city apartments tended to be—packed between towering neighbors—but Jayce’s presence was the only thing about it that felt remotely like home.
"You know," he said, half-lounging. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
You didn’t look up from your canvas, your brush already dipping into the paints like second nature. “Who?”
“Viktor” 
You paused, only long enough for your brush to hover midair before you flicked your gaze in his direction. “Ah, yes. The famous business partner.”
Jayce’s grin didn’t falter, but there was something softer behind it now. “Yeah, something like that. But seriously, he’s a good guy. Brilliant, actually. You two would get along.”
You didn’t reply at first. Instead, you let the brush finish its arc, eyes back on your work, moving with the rhythm of a familiar task. “mhm” you murmured, distracted by the way the strokes of paint were bleeding together. “If he’s anything like you, how bad can it be?”
But Jayce, of course, wasn’t done. His voice took on that soft  tone he reserved for moments when he really wanted to get his point across. “I’m serious, okay? I want you two to meet. You both mean a lot to me, and I think you’ll really hit it off.”
You didn’t look up, but you felt a weight behind his words, pushing against you with silent pressure. “Yeah? I’m sure it’ll happen, then.”
Jayce’s eyes lit up, a flash of triumph in them, like he’d just won some small but important battle. “You’ll see. I’m telling you—when you meet him, you’ll click. I know it.”
You leaned back in your chair, releasing a slow exhale, the kind that said everything without saying anything at all. A nonchalant nod was all you offered, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of saying more. “Fine. Fine. I’ll meet him. But don’t make a whole thing out of it.”
Jayce chuckled, and there was an odd note of relief in the sound, like he’d just been granted some unspoken permission. “No big deal, I swear. But you’ll see. You two are more alike than you think.”
-
When you finally did meet Viktor, Jayce was practically vibrating, his energy as unsubtle as ever. It had been after one of your gallery openings, a night you’d half-dragged yourself through on fumes and politeness. Your heels had barely cleared the threshold of his apartment before the faintest twinge of suspicion began to creep in—something about the way he hovered, grinning like a man with a secret.
“You deserve a good meal after tonight,” Jayce had said, ushering you in with the kind of charm that usually preceded one of his schemes. “Thought you’d want to celebrate somewhere that doesn’t reek of overpriced wine and small talk.”
You rolled your eyes but let yourself be corralled, the promise of food outweighing the odd note in his voice. His large apartment, at least, was familiar territory: warm, cluttered with bits of tech and sentimental junk from years past, the faint scent of whatever candles he refused to admit he hoarded lingering in the air.
And then you heard it—the low murmur of another voice, sharp-edged and vaguely amused, drifting from the kitchen.
Jayce froze, his grin faltering for a split second before it reappeared, brighter than ever. “Oh, right,” he said, far too casually. “Viktor’s here.”
You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. “You conveniently forgot to mention that part.”
“Come on,” he pushed, throwing an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward the source of the voice. “It’s no big deal. Just dinner. You’ll like him, I promise.”
And there he was, perched by the kitchen counter with a faintly perplexed look on his face. He was slimmer than you’d expected, pale and sharp-featured, with hair that looked like it hadn’t met a comb in days. His amber eyes flicked up to meet yours, narrowing slightly as if he were trying to solve a puzzle that had just been placed in front of him.
“Ah,” he said, his accent lilting and crisp, “so this is the infamous artist.”
You shot a glare at Jayce, who was already heading for the stove with the kind of forced cheer that made it painfully clear he’d orchestrated the whole thing. “You owe me for this,” you muttered under your breath, stepping further into the kitchen.
Viktor’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk appearing. “And here I thought I was being ambushed. Seems we’re both victims of his enthusiasm.”
Jayce turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand, his expression utterly unrepentant. “You’ll thank me later.”
The dinner was simple but undeniably good—Jayce’s doing, of course. The man couldn’t let anyone step into his apartment without insisting they be properly fed, and tonight was no exception. Roast chicken, buttery vegetables with rice, warm bread that filled the space with its yeasty aroma—it was the kind of meal that made you feel at home even when you weren’t.
Conversation flowed easily around the table, mostly carried by Jayce, but Viktor wasn’t exactly quiet, either. He had a way of chiming in at just the right moment, his dry humor landing squarely between Jayce’s more exuberant anecdotes and your own occasional contributions.
“You mean to tell me,” Viktor said at one point, leaning back slightly in his chair, “that Jayce still hasn’t learned to cook rice without burning it? After all these years?”
Jayce, halfway through explaining some disastrous culinary attempt from his youth, turned to glare at him. “Excuse me, this rice was cooked perfectly.”
“It was fine,” you agreed, though the memory of a slightly crunchy bite or two made your lips twitch in amusement.
Viktor’s amber eyes sparkled as he gestured broadly. “Oh, fine! A glowing review, truly. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Jayce groaned, but there was no real bite to it. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Viktor said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “here I am. Invited to dinner. Again.”
Jayce just rolled his eyes and went back to his story, leaving you to glance at Viktor with a small smile. He caught it, of course, and gave a little shrug as if to say, what can you do? For all his sharp humor, he was easy to talk to, his wit balanced by an underlying warmth that kept him from coming off as too cutting.
Which was why you were only mildly surprised when the spoon incident happened.
Dinner was winding down, Jayce had disappeared into the kitchen to fuss over coffee, leaving you and Viktor to handle the cleanup.
He moved with a surprising ease, balancing a stack of plates in one hand, his cane steady in the other. It was a casual sort of competence, as though he’d long since adapted to whatever limitations life had handed him. You hadn’t thought much of it, impressed by how naturally he maneuvered, until the soft clatter of a spoon hitting the floor broke the quiet rhythm of tidying.
“Ah,” Viktor said, glancing down at the rogue utensil with a faint frown as he set down the plate stack. “Of course.”
You paused mid-step, glancing between him and the spoon. “Need a hand?”
He tilted his head, his expression a little too innocent. “If it’s not too much trouble. You know, the leg and all...”
“Oh, for—” Jayce’s voice floated from the kitchen, half-annoyed but not quite committed to intervening.
You sighed, setting down the napkins you’d been folding. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got it.”
But just as you crouched down, Viktor shifted. A casual tap of his cane sent the spoon skittering across the floor, its metallic clink faintly echoing as it landed farther away.
You froze, staring at the spoon in disbelief, then turned your gaze to him slowly. “You’re kidding.”
Viktor’s lips twitched, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. “What?”
“You just—”
“What?” he repeated, wider-eyed this time, his free hand gesturing vaguely toward his cane. “I’m handicapped.”
Jayce reappeared in the doorway, a coffee pot in hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face. “Viktor.”
“What?” Viktor said again, his voice laced with mock indignation. “I am!”
Jayce muttered something unintelligible as he poured coffee, his focus shifting between you and Viktor like he couldn’t decide which one of you deserved his scolding more. Meanwhile, you straightened, crossing your arms as a grin tugged at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you said, stepping across the room to retrieve the spoon—again.
“Very generous,” Viktor agreed, his tone breezy. “Honestly, it’s quite inspiring. Jayce, you should take notes.”
Jayce groaned, setting the coffee pot down with a little too much force. “You’re both ridiculous.”
But you were already laughing, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. As you returned the spoon to the table with a pointed look, Viktor gave you a small, almost triumphant smile. And maybe, you could see what Jayce meant when he’d said you’d get along.
-
The first time you realized you might feel more than just friendship for Viktor was when you noticed the way your sketches had started to change.
It had been weeks—maybe even a couple of months—since that dinner with Jayce, when you had awkwardly danced around each other, getting to know one another. The initial weirdness had faded into easy companionship, and you found yourself spending more time with Viktor than you expected. You hadn’t quite noticed it happening, but somewhere along the line, you’d become an unintentional trio. Jayce had been bursting with barely-contained glee at how easily the two of you seemed to get along, and it made your chest warm, knowing how much that mattered to him. It felt... right, this newfound ease between the three of you, a quiet sort of harmony that made you smile more than you expected.
But as the days passed, something shifted without you realizing it. You were at home one evening, flipping through your sketchbook, the soft pastel dust smudging the edges of the pages as your fingers moved. The forms you’d drawn were abstract models, capturing shapes and shadows in a fluid, organic way. It wasn’t anything new—nothing that stood out. But then, you stopped.
There, in the shadows of the page, you saw it.
The subtle arch of a jawline. The curve of lips that you knew too well. Even the moles, small and almost unremarkable, but there they were—on the page, right beneath your fingertips. You blinked and flipped to another sketch, only to see it again. A line here, a shadow there. It wasn’t him exactly, but it was.
To the untrained eye, maybe it wouldn’t have been obvious. Hell, maybe even to you on any other day, it might’ve gone unnoticed. But now, in the quiet of your studio, the shapes were almost unmistakable. The soft angle of his nose, the way his eyes looked when he was thinking too hard, the way his smile would pull up on one side when he was being particularly smug.
You frowned, setting the sketchbook down, your hands hovering above it as if it had betrayed you. Was this some kind of coincidence? Or was it something more, something you had been avoiding realizing? You’d never consciously set out to draw him, but there he was, tucked into the lines and curves of your art like an uninvited guest you hadn’t known you were entertaining.
It was ridiculous, you told yourself. Of course it was just... coincidence. But even as you tried to convince yourself, there was a small, unspoken truth sitting in your chest, heavy and undeniable, and the first time you realized Viktor might see you as more than just a friend was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it hit you all the same.
He mentioned a piece you’d shown him, his tone thoughtful. “You’ve been doing something different lately. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a change. It’s...” His gaze flickered to yours, then dropped back to the floor, but the brief flash in his eyes sent an unexpected flutter through your chest. “...more. More than what you usually show.”
The words themselves were harmless, even complimentary, but it was the way they hung between you that made something inside you stir—something you couldn’t name, not yet. You didn’t think much of it at first, but the way his eyes lingered just a second longer than necessary made your breath catch. The way the corners of his mouth lifted into a half-smile, not teasing, but... fond.
It was a simple thing. A fleeting moment. And yet, it lingered in your mind as you retreated to your apartment, your thoughts whirling with the possibility that Viktor—your friend, the one you had so casually laughed and bantered with for months—might be seeing you differently, too.
The shift was subtle, but it was there. And it unsettled you more than you cared to admit.
-
Everything came to a boiling point one night at your apartment. You’d ventured into town earlier that day, mostly for a change of scenery, and happened upon a small farmers market. You couldn’t resist grabbing a few bottles of strawberry wine, its sweetness and fruity undertones practically calling your name. Jayce had scoffed at it when you got back, claiming it was too sugary to have any real punch. “There’s no way I’ll even get drunk off this,” he’d muttered with a dismissive wave.
An hour later, he was sprawled out on your pullout, snoring softly with a stupid grin plastered across his face. You and Viktor stood nearby, both trying—and failing—to suppress your amusement at how quickly Jayce had succumbed to the wine’s effects. For all his size, Jayce was a surprising lightweight.
“I swear, every time,” you said, laughing quietly.
Viktor, leaning against the doorway, gave a soft chuckle. “Some people just don’t know when to stop.”
You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the slumbering man. “Guess we let him sleep it off.”
“Let him have his beauty rest,” Viktor teased, his voice light as he nodded toward the bottles. “We can always finish it ourselves.”
So you did, winding up on the roof with the cold night air around you. The worn-out couch up there had seen better days, but it was still enough to settle into and talk, a simple quiet comfort settling over you both. The soft glow of string lights and the silvered moonlight made the world feel like it was wrapped in a quiet hush despite the never ending sounds of the city. You both settled into the couch, the cushions sinking in the middle, which pushed you just a little closer to Viktor than you'd anticipated.
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was easy, like you had spent years in it. You noticed how close you were sitting now—your thighs pressed together, and when you passed the bottle of wine, your fingers brushed his. A small spark of awareness ran through you each time, and you tried to ignore it, feeling your face warm despite the cool air.
The wine was sweet, fruity, and a little stronger than you expected, especially when you found yourself reaching for another sip and another, the soft buzz in your head gradually growing stronger.
By the time the bottle was halfway gone, you were both leaning more heavily into the couch, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how little wine was apparently needed to bring Jayce to the brink of passing out. You felt... lighter. Almost giddy, as if the laughter that came so easily was spilling out along with the alcohol. And Viktor, sitting just beside you, didn’t seem to be immune to it either. His face was flushed in the soft light, his lips curling into an easy smile.
“You know,” you said, leaning back and feeling the warmth of the couch soak into your bones, “I don’t do this enough. I’m so... wrapped up in work and life and... I just forget to relax.”
Viktor tilted his head, eyes slightly narrowed as he watched you. “Relaxing can be overrated,” he said with a smirk, the words a little slower than they’d been earlier. He took another drink from the bottle, his thumb brushing against the glass in an unconscious rhythm. When he passed it to you, your fingers brushed once again, and you lingered just a bit longer than necessary.
“Well, maybe for you,” you chuckled. “But, for me, it’s like... it's like a luxury, I guess. You know? I don’t remember the last time I just sat with someone and... and didn’t feel like I had to be somewhere or do something.”
“You eh–... don’t have to worry about that here,” Viktor said quietly, his voice light, with that usual teasing edge. But something was different in his tone, something that made the words feel heavier than they should have been. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the air seemed to shift, the quiet between you stretching into something almost… charged.
You took another sip, your hand a little unsteady now. The whole situation felt absurd—awkward, even, yet strangely intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. Your gaze drifted toward his lips without thinking. It was brief, but enough to send a flutter through your stomach, and suddenly, your mind couldn’t focus on anything but that soft, confident curve of his mouth. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was something else entirely, but you couldn’t seem to think straight anymore.
Viktor shifted closer again, and the couch beneath you groaned as it sank with the weight of it. The space between you closed, and you could feel the warmth of his body pressing against yours shoulder to shoulder, like the alcohol spreading through you, making your pulse quicken.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. His presence was a solid thing beside you. His eyes were locked on yours, studying, but still so calm. You could feel the punch of his gaze on you, like it was seeping through your skin, sending heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t just the wine now—you could feel it all over, heat blooming beneath your skin, making you fidget slightly.
“Sometimes… you get caught up in what you’re doing, and you forget about everything else,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your nerves were tightening your chest. “I’ve been focused on my career and—god, I’ve probably been a little… I don’t know, closed off.” You laughed lightly, but it was nervous, unsure of where this was even coming from. But suddenly all your senses were barraged by him, his smell, his eyes.
“I just—I haven’t thought about it. Relationships, I mean. Not in a long time. I don’t know if I’m even ready for anything like that. Not now, not with everything I’m doing.” You trailed off, self-conscious, suddenly feeling like you were saying too much, rambling without stopping. The words seemed to just slip out of you, tumbling over each other.
You took another shaky breath, your heart thudding in your chest as you tried to make yourself stop, but you couldn’t. It was like you were helpless.
“And, I mean, if anybody were to kiss me…” You faltered, realizing too late just how much you were giving away. Your pulse quickened, your thoughts jumbled as your mouth just kept moving. “I would want that person to be you.”
The air between you thickened, the silence stretching long and heavy. Your heart pounded in your chest, a nervous rhythm that drowned out everything else. You waited for him to say something, to break the tension that was suffocating you. But there was nothing. Just the weight of his gaze on you, steady and searching.
When you finally dared to glance at him Viktor's expression was unreadable. One thick eyebrow was cocked slightly, and his mouth hung open just enough to suggest he was about to say something, but didn't. He was so close but somehow the distance between you felt infinite.
You opened your mouth to say something, to fill the silence, but before you could speak, his hand moved, his fingers brushing against your jaw in the gentlest touch. The sudden warmth of his palm made your breath catch, and before you could even fully process it, he was pulling you in. His lips met yours, soft at first, as though testing the waters, as if the moment itself was delicate. But that softness didn't last, between the buzz of alcohol, the closeness, the heat between you—it all blurred together. The kiss deepened, quickly turning urgent, hungry. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the bottle slipped from your grasp, its clang against the concrete floor echoing in the quiet of the rooftop
You didn't care. You were too lost in the feeling of him against you, his lips moving against yours with a desperate kind of need. The kiss grew messier– clumsy, teeth scraping, tongues tangling. You could taste the faint sweetness of wine on him, the mix of flavors making everything feel dizzying overwhelming.
You found yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, as if trying to merge your bodies together, desperate for the contact, for whatever it was that had been building between you two for so long. 
-
The next day was a harsh slap of hangover reality. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, and every time you glanced at Viktor across the room, your stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with the booze.
Jayce, of course, was none the wiser. He chatted away over breakfast like nothing had changed, blissfully unaware of the shift that had unraveled everything you thought you’d had under control. And you? You were wholly committed to keeping it that way. It was a one-time thing, you told yourself. Just a fleeting, drunken thing—something you could both quietly bury and move on from.
At least, that was the plan.
Until it happened again. And then again.
Now it feels like a thread being pulled tighter and tighter, until you’re not sure if you’re going to unravel completely or snap under the weight.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. But here you are. And you don’t know how to stop.
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crystallinestars · 2 months ago
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Just Confess Already! Part 2
Drabbles about Genshin men (or you) confessing with the help of a wingman. This is pure fluff.
Characters: Kazuha, Kinich, Ororon, Wanderer, and Cyno.
Part 1 here.
I apologize if the endings sound abrupt, I've edited and rewritten this many times, and at this point I just want to get this finally posted. I also apologize for the length, my writing style has changed since part 1.
🍁 Kazuha
Everyone and their mother at The Crux could tell you and Kazuha had a thing for each other. The way you guys spent most of your free time in each other’s company discussing poetry or music, the way Kazuha always volunteered to help you with your tasks, how you took care of Kazuha when he got drunk, and just the overall subtle romantic tension about your pair tipped off pretty much everyone.
Though Beidou didn’t want to pry into the love lives of her crew, she’d sometimes catch glimpses of you and Kazuha chatting up in the crow’s nest of the ship and noted that the way you smiled at each other was endearing. Otherwise, she paid little attention to it, thinking it was only a matter of time until one of you confessed and you guys became an official couple.
However, that time never came. The two of you pussyfooted around the topic of laying bare your feelings, and everyone at The Crux was getting a little annoyed that you were stuck in the pining phase. There was a limit to how long Beidou could tolerate watching you give each other pining glances without snapping and telling you two to get together already.
One time when you were out on an errand, Beidou and her crew invited Kazuha for a drink. The friendly and cheerful atmosphere prompted some members to share their life stories, and the topic breached romance. Someone asked Kazuha why he hadn’t confessed to you yet, and the drunken ronin answered that he treasured your friendship and didn’t want to jeopardize it in case you didn’t feel the same way.
Beidou could only scoff at his excuse. It was so obvious that you liked him back, and since when was Kazuha such a coward? He could go up against the Raiden Shogun’s deadly Musou no Hitotachi, but had his tail between his legs at the prospect of admitting he loved you to your face? Preposterous! Moreover, she had to tell her crew to settle down because they were creating a spectacle out of your crushes on each other and making bets on which one of you would confess first (she betted on you).
If Kazuha was too much of a coward, Beidou thought, then maybe you’d be braver.
That same evening, she happened to find you alone in your cabin and took the opportunity to bring up the issue of your longtime crush on Kazuha. Though she was no expert on romance, Beidou wanted to help you. She got you to open up and confide in her, patiently listening while you expressed your fears about confessing to Kazuha. You also didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him, so Beidou stated outright that he returned your feelings. If you didn’t believe her, then see for yourself.
With that, she pried open a window in the cabin. Over the gentle lapping of the waves, you heard the crew’s laughter up on the deck, and the faint sound of Kazuha’s familiar voice. It was a little difficult to hear what he was saying over the crew’s chatter, and his speech was slightly slurred, but you made out a few words. He frequently spoke your name while reciting a few clumsy haikus. But they weren’t just any random poems about the sea or sky—they were love haikus.
Beidou patted your shoulder and told you to have courage instead of wasting your life wondering about what-ifs and regretting not doing anything.
Over the following days, Beidou sent you and Kazuha out on joint errands in Liyue Harbour. The errands themselves weren’t all that important, but they served as good excuses to give you two some alone time. Kazuha was no fool and quickly deduced that Beidou was setting you two up on purpose, but he wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to spend more time with you.
Beidou hoped something would finally change by the time you returned, and sure enough, when she spotted you and Kazuha walking back to the ship, she smiled. The two of you were holding hands and smiling warmly at each other, a good sign that your once-suppressed feelings were now in the open. Naturally, the rest of the crew noticed the change as well and grew excited when you confirmed that you and Kazuha were now in a romantic relationship.
That night, they brought out the good wine and food to congratulate you and Kazuha on finally getting together. Most of the Crux’s crew joined on the festivities, with some members being nosy and asking you for details on how it happened and who confessed first.
When you admitted to confessing first, Beidou smugly accepted her winnings and took a big swig of her drink before yelling out a cheer. Her crew followed suit in toasting and cheering much to your and Kazuha’s embarrassment, but it was all in good fun. Beidou made sure to make it up to you by distracting the crew with a drinking game and sending you a wink as she allowed you and Kazuha to make a quiet escape from the party. The Crux gang would have plenty of time to tease you in the future—for now, you and Kazuha deserved to enjoy this newfound relationship without others poking their noses where they don’t belong. Beidou would make sure of it.
🟩 Kinich
Kinich’s relationship with you perplexed K’uhul Ajaw. The Almighty Dragonlord couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, but something between you two changed. Recently, Kinich had been giving you discounts whenever you asked for his help, and sometimes even did things for you for free. Kinich the Malipo giving someone special treatment? Unheard of! And on top of all that, his servant had been visiting you more frequently during downtime, and there was also that strange glint in Kinich’s eyes whenever he looked at you, something akin to endearment—
Oh.
Kinich liked you.
Oh, this was going to be good!
Ajaw’s diabolical nature wouldn’t let him keep Kinich’s feelings for you a secret. The next time you came to hang out with their duo, the saurian waved his little stubby arms and ran his mouth as soon as you were within earshot. “Hey, human! Our lowly servant has developed romantic feelings for you like some sort of prepubescent schoolboy! Isn’t that a riot?” and cackled, thinking Kinich would be thoroughly humiliated and put in his place.
To Ajaw’s dismay, instead of looking disgusted by the news, you appeared… hopeful? A tad surprised by his outburst, but was that hope shining in your eyes? To Ajaw’s even greater dismay, Kinich lacked any sort of outward reaction to having his crush on you vocalized so brazenly. Instead, the saurian hunter told you to ignore Ajaw’s nonsensical words in his usual calm manner, before smacking the pixelated menace away for a timeout. Right before he got locked away, Ajaw managed to catch a glimpse of disappointment in your eyes when Kinich brushed the situation aside as if it were nothing.
That day, K’uhul Ajaw realized that Kinich’s feelings were not one-sided like he originally thought. You liked Kinich too. The mere thought of you two acting all lovey-dovey with each other was sickening, but the saurian figured poking fun at you and Kinich would be a good source of entertainment.
After that day, Ajaw became even more insufferable. Every chance he got, he’d swoop in with a taunting remark and make fun either you, Kinich, or both.
One time while accompanying Kinich through a dense forest, you slipped on a wet tree root and were sent falling towards the ground. However, Kinich swiftly caught you and pulled you to his chest to help stabilize you. Ajaw had a field day laughing and crowing about how scandalous you were for practically throwing yourself at Kinich like that. Were you that desperate to be in his arms? Disgusting!
The saurian also used every opportunity he could find to reveal all of Kinich’s secrets to you. Did you know Kinich gave you special treatment? No? Are you blind?! Can’t you tell he does stuff for you for free? Why do you think he brings you game and wild berries free of charge every once in a while--to show off how good he is at hunting?! Have you at least noticed Kinich smiled more and acted softer towards you, or are you really that blind? He doesn’t treat anyone else that way, you know! …And so on and so forth, though most of his attempts to out Kinich are interrupted by the man himself locking Ajaw away before the dragon reveals too much.
As fun as it was to watch your pair’s awkward attempts at showing signs of affection for each other, Ajaw eventually grew frustrated with standing witness to the mutual pining that never progressed anywhere. It made the little saurian’s blood boil with annoyance.
Whenever he and Kinich were alone, Ajaw would complain that the hunter should stop being a dimwit and a coward and just confess to you already! How could he not see that you obviously liked him back?! Seriously, how bad was his luck to end up with such an imbecile for a servant?!
Kinich coolly rejected Ajaw’s insistence for confessing his feelings. It was not in his nature to recklessly rush into the unknown—he needed to carefully analyze and weigh his options before coming to a sound decision. As such, his relationship with you was not to be rushed. This didn’t sit well with Ajaw, but no matter what he said, Kinich stubbornly refused to listen.
The Dragonlord’s patience reached a breaking point during one fateful day. It was getting dark, and Kinich had offered to escort you home. Once you were safely at your doorstep, you made the bold move of kissing Kinich’s cheek in thanks. For a split moment, Ajaw swore there was palpable romantic tension between you as your and Kinich’s eyes met (gross). Kinich glanced at your lips, looking as if he wanted to lean in and kiss you (doubly gross) and Ajaw prepared himself to make disgusted gagging noises, except… nothing happened. With a seldom seen blush on his cheeks, Kinich awkwardly cleared his throat and bid you goodnight, preparing to leave.
Ajaw exploded.
“This is painful to watch! You two were clearly made for each other—both equally cowardly and blind to each other’s feelings! Just admit you like each other already; you’re not fooling anyone! Kinich, you cowardly, brainless, insufferable insect—just lean in for that kiss, you obviously want to! And you! Stop waffling and just spit out that you like Kinich already! Agh, watching you two is torture! What did the great K’uhul Ajaw do to deserve this fate?!” he yelled, turning red in the face.
Kinich promptly locked Ajaw away, for which the saurian would later chew him out once he was free, but not before interrogating you and the hunter about whether you finally confessed. Once Kinich revealed that yes, you had talked it out and admitted your mutual feelings for each other and were now in a relationship, Ajaw could finally feel some sense of peace regarding the situation.
Feeling proud of his contributions, Ajaw puffed out his chest and told you and Kinich to pucker up and kiss his feet in worship, for only with the help of the Almighty Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw has your relationship progressed instead of stagnating like swamp water.
Though the saurian relic continued to be an annoyance, even Kinich had to admit that Ajaw played a part in getting you together. Though not in the form of worship or foot kissing, Kinich did repay the favor by procuring some quenepa berries and other fruits that Ajaw liked, hosting a small feast as a thank you. Though Ajaw complained about being scammed, the snacks did the trick of improving his mood and keeping him occupied while you and Kinich had some precious time to yourselves.
🦇 Ororon
Ever since you and Ororon were children, Citlali observed that the two of you got along well. So well, in fact, that Ororon had developed a little crush on you. He would pluck flowers from a nearby meadow to give you, follow you around like a loyal puppy, and one time, Ororon told Citlali that he hoped to marry you one day.
Citlali couldn’t help but find Ororon’s crush on you adorable, and a part of her anticipated the day when you both grew up and got married. She had no doubt you would make the sweetest couple among the Masters of the Night-Wind.
Ororon’s attraction to you persisted into adulthood. At that point, Citlali could no longer call it a cute little crush— “Love” was a more apt description for how Ororon felt towards you, even if he tried to hide the depth of his attachment to you. He was content to stay as just your friend and not risk ruining the close bond you had in case you didn’t return his feelings. Citlali was a little frustrated that Ororon continued to pine for you without doing anything about it, but she knew better than to force the stubborn boy to do something he didn’t want to. If you were both happy with the way things were, then why change them?
However, during one of her rare trips to the market for some divination supplies, Citlali overheard a conversation between two tribespeople. The topic of conversation was about love, and one of the men bashfully admitted that he thought you were pretty and that he hoped to ask you out on a date soon. This news washed over Citlali like a bucket of cold water as worry seized her heart.
This wasn’t the first time others had expressed romantic interest in you. After all, you’ve always had a bit of a reputation among the Masters of the Night-Wind for being attractive, so it wasn’t surprising others had an eye on you. However, now that you were an independent adult, it wouldn’t be strange for you to look for a partner to settle down with, right? Knowing Ororon, the dimwit wouldn’t ever think to confess, and what if someone else confessed before he did and stole your heart?
Citlali didn’t want to force you to choose Ororon, but she didn’t want things to end without her beloved grandson at least taking a shot at winning you over. The last thing she wanted was for Ororon to be left heartbroken and disappointed all because he let the chance to be with you slip from his fingers.
With these troubled thoughts, Citlali sought out Ororon and announced that he needed to stop dawdling and actively pursue you unless he wanted to watch your heart get stolen by somebody else. Citlali’s sudden proclamation confused Ororon, so she explained that he’s not the only one who is in love with you and that there’s a risk of you choosing someone else to spend your life with.
As she expected, Ororon stubbornly refused to go along with her urging, saying that who you wanted to end up with was your choice and he would respect it. Though he said that, Citlali could see it on Ororon’s face that the mere thought of you falling for someone else hurt him, and she couldn’t help but feel bad for her grandson.
After much convincing and reassurance, Citlali got Ororon to agree to court you and promised to come up with a plan to help him in this endeavour. There was, however, one major problem: how were two socially awkward outcasts supposed to win someone’s heart? Having never been courted herself, Citlali had no past experiences to draw from when designing her plan, but it shouldn’t be too hard, right? She’d read a lot of romance novels imported from Inazuma, so maybe if she got Ororon to do some of the same things the male leads did, then it would curry your favour? Regardless, it was worth a shot.
The plan was for Ororon to prove his worth as a suitable partner by giving you gifts, compliments, and always being there for you no matter what it was. In Ororon’s opinion, he was already doing all of these things for you as a friend, but Citlali insisted that his actions needed to be infused with romance to distinguish them from gestures of friendship. Her grandson was still reluctant to actively court you, but he had promised to try and try he did. Except, his approach subverted Citlali’s expectations.
When it came to giving gifts, instead of presenting jewellery, woven scrolls, or useful gadgets, the young man gifted you game he had caught in the wild and the best selection of produce from his garden. Citlali could only facepalm when Ororon told her which gifts he planned to give you, but she also knew he put genuine thought into them. Ororon handpicked the nicest veggies he could find in his garden and personally delivered them to your doorstep instead of sending Ifa like he normally would. Citlali told him that giving gifts in person held more meaning, and Ororon appeared to have taken her words to heart.
Ororon also gifted you flowers much like he did when you were little. However, this time he didn’t give you flowers plucked from the wild. Instead, he gifted you potted plants that he had also grown in his garden. “They will live and look pretty for longer,” he told you, then received a flick to the forehead once Citlali found out what he did.
His compliments were no better. Saying things like his vegetables grew better whenever you visited his home and spoke to his plants or your presence being calming for the aphids, was the best Ororon could do. Citlali admonished him for these strange compliments, but to Ororon, that was the highest praise anyone could receive. After all, you were an amazing person, and even his plants and aphids sensed it.
Ororon’s courtship was unconventional to say the least, and granny Itztli worried whether her grandson made a favorable impression on you. To help improve Ororon’s image in your eyes, Citlali sought you out more often to put in a good word for her grandson and get you to see him as a man. She highlighted Ororon’s good points to you, commenting how Ororon is a bit peculiar, but he’s also kind, resourceful, accepting, gentle, and so much more. A truly good kid. He would make an excellent romantic partner, wouldn’t you agree?
Her pushiness flustered you, but it also allowed Citlali to gauge how you felt about Ororon, and she had to contain her excitement when she pieced together that you loved him back. In her giddiness, she urged Ororon to confess.
When the day of the confession came, Citlali hid among some trees while keeping an eye on you and Ororon. She didn’t intent to spy, but the anxiety over how the confession would go made her antsy and she couldn’t sit still at home. She watched as Ororon offered you a basket of his finest produce and finally professed his love. The confession came out awkward because he tried to recite what he practiced with Citlali a few days prior, and he seemed to realize this because Ororon then took your hand and placed it against his chest. Using his own words this time, Ororon explained that he genuinely did love you, and the racing of his heart should be proof enough that you were more than just a friend in his eyes. However, it was alright if you didn’t feel the same way about him.
Citlali had to clamp her hands over her mouth to hold back from squealing in giddiness as she watched you reciprocate Ororon’s feelings. She would later apologize for spying since she knew it was wrong, but it filled her with joy to witness the blossoming of love between you. In some ways, this was better than any romance novel she had read in all her years of living, and it warmed her heart to see you both so happy.
Even if it was a childhood fantasy, perhaps Ororon’s wish of marrying you was not that far off now? Citlali certainly hoped so.
☂️ Wanderer
Nahida was no expert on romance, but she had observed enough couples during her 500-year-long imprisonment to know what romantic attraction looked like. The strange air surrounding you and Wanderer must have been that, she speculated, as she watched Wanderer hand you a box of your favorite foods with the flimsy excuse of having made too much. For your part, you seemed genuinely touched by the gesture despite Wanderer’s grumbling, much to Nahida’s delight. Wanderer’s prickly personality pushed some people away, but not you. You stayed by his side and gave him the companionship he needed, helping Wanderer open up and heal from his trauma.
It was clear you deeply cared for the young man, and a little peek into your mind confirmed to Nahida that yes, you did love him romantically. She couldn’t read Wanderer’s mind since he blocked all her attempts to do so, but she didn’t need mindreading to conclude that he loved you too.
When she next spoke with Wanderer, she carefully asked if he loved you. Wanderer’s response was a gruff “No” and “Stop asking”, however Nahida could tell he wasn’t being honest with his feelings. If he didn’t love you, then why did he treat you differently compared to everyone else? His manner of speech is gentler when with you, and despite all his grumbling he still complies with all your requests no matter how irritating he may find them. Not to mention, he spends most of his free time in your company, goes out of his way to make you little gifts and cook your favorite dishes. Surely all these behaviours were proof that you were someone special to him?
Being effectively cornered, the puppet had no choice except to come clean about his hidden feelings. With scowl and a blush on his cheeks, Wanderer reluctantly admitted that yes, he likes you, but it was none of Nahida’s business and she’d better stay out of it.
Despite Wanderer’s warning, the Dendro Archon wanted to help get you together. She felt confident that if both of you put in a little effort, a beautiful romance could blossom between you. Still, she didn’t want to outright reveal your feelings for each other. She believed that each of you should relay these intimate feelings yourselves. All Nahida would do is give you a gentle nudge in the right direction.
To help her with this task, Nahida sought help from a few Aranara and asked them to keep an eye on you and Wanderer and report any meaningful details that could help her bring you together. Through her little helpers, Nahida learned the full extent of Wanderer’s affections for you, and she couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was, especially when it came to you.
Using this acquired knowledge, the Dendro Archon frequently brought up Wanderer in your conversations with her to explain the thoughtfulness behind some of his gifts and words. For as frank as he usually was with people, Wanderer was more close-lipped about the true extent of his feelings, so Nahida had some work cut out for her in making you realize how much he truly cared about you.
For example, the next time Wanderer gave you your favorite food with the excuse that he’d made too much, Nahida revealed to you that he actually spent several days perfecting the recipe before finally giving the dish to you.
That hand-made bracelet he gifted you, saying he got it for free during an arts and crafts event he visited? Wanderer actually made it himself during that event and used beads of your favorite colors. The Aranara watched him spend a lot of time crafting that bracelet with the greatest care, but Nahida left that part out.
In addition, she would subtly drop hints for you to invite Wanderer to hang out more often. For example, the Zubayr Theater was hosting a play and Nahida heard there was a discount if you bought two tickets. Why don’t you go and invite Wanderer to come with you?
As for Wanderer, she discreetly told him that you once mentioned wanting to try out a new drink at Puspa Cafe but had nobody to go with, so why not be a good friend and take you there himself? Wanderer initially objected, but ultimately caved in and invited you to the Café while commenting that a certain annoying sprout said you wanted to try a new drink there, though deep down he glad for the opportunity to spend more time with you. Nahida could tell by the way Wanderer went out of his way to spoil you that day, buying you anything you wanted and keeping you company until the sun set.
Little by little, Nahida softened Wanderer towards the possibility of being in a romantic relationship with you, and helped you gather the courage to confess. Wanderer was unlikely to ever confess first, so the responsibility rested on your shoulders. She could tell you were nervous about laying bare your feelings, but she reassured you that things would go well. You only needed to take that leap of faith.
When you finally confessed, Nahida and the Aranara secretly observed the scene from behind a nearby corner, curious to see how things would go while also quietly cheering you on (not that you knew). When a flustered Wanderer accepted your confession, Nahida was overjoyed. She had fun guiding both of you towards this moment, but the satisfaction of knowing you could finally be together the way you always wished was rewarding in its own way. Even when Wanderer later confronted her about spying on you during your confession and scolded her for it, the little Archon’s happiness didn’t wane. She looked forward to seeing what your newfound relationship would blossom into, and had no doubt it would be something beautiful and pure, just like your love for each other.
👁️‍🗨️ Cyno
It was no secret to Tighnari that you and Cyno liked each other. He had known about your mutual crushes as far back as your student days at the Akademiya where you first met. You became fast friends with him and Cyno, but Tighnari couldn’t help but think Cyno was a bit more special to you than you let on. After all, you were one of the few who wasn’t intimidated by Cyno’s perpetual stern facial expressions and actively sought him out, and who actually laughed at his lame jokes.
Tighnari also knew about Cyno’s crush on you since his friend confided about it to him. Not that Cyno needed to say anything because Tighnari could see his attraction to you clear as day. Cyno’s eyes lit up whenever he saw you in the distance, he tried to act “cooler” in your presence in an attempt to impress you, and Tighnari swore that if Cyno had a tail, it would have wagged like a dog’s every time you laughed at his jokes.
Though he knew about your mutual romantic attraction to each other, Tighnari didn’t want to stick his nose into your love lives. He figured you guys would resolve everything yourselves in due time.
However, nothing changed even after you guys graduated. Your group remained close friends and saw each other regularly, but Tighnari was starting to lose his patience with how you and Cyno hopelessly pined for each other. He had already lost count of the number of times each of you came to him for advice on how to win the other over.
Cyno asked Tighnari’s opinion on a lot of things: Would you like his newest joke? Would you be okay with Cyno volunteering to be your bodyguard for your upcoming desert excursion? Which of his limited edition TCG cards best represented you? Cyno wanted to express how much you meant to him by giving you a card that reminded him of you.
You were no better. Tighnari had lost count of the number of times you approached him with questions about Cyno’s work schedule. Your excuse was that you wanted to plan hangouts with him, Collei, and Cyno during their days off, but Tighnari knew there was another reason why you asked about Cyno’s schedule in particular. He had half a mind to tell you to ask Cyno yourself because it was obvious that you just wanted to spend more time with the General Mahamatra. You also pestered Tighnari with questions about Cyno’s TCG deck. Much like his friend, you wanted to express your appreciation for Cyno by giving him cards he didn’t have yet.
Seriously, you two were a match made in heaven…
Tighnari would have found your mutual crushes on each other endearing, if only he wasn’t stuck being the middleman. As it stood, Tighnari wanted nothing more than to throttle both of you for pussyfooting around your feelings and getting him caught up in being your messenger. He was on the brink of snapping and sitting you both down to explain that your feelings were mutual, so just hurry up and get together already.
That’s why the next time Cyno approached him with another question about you, Tighnari took the opportunity to convince his friend to confess. He and Collei assured Cyno that you liked him a lot, and urged him to tell you his feelings. Cyno was hesitant but did seem to want some closure about whether you liked him back or not, so Tighnari gave him an incentive. How about the next time he played TCG with you, you guys set some stakes? Why not have a rule that the loser must tell the winner a secret? If Cyno lost, he would have to confess.
Cyno wasn’t fond of the idea initially, but agreed after some contemplation, acknowledging that this method would be effective in giving him that necessary push. Still, Tighnari could tell Cyno was nervous about confessing, so he volunteered to come along as moral support, much to Cyno’s gratitude.
That was how Tighnari and Collei found themselves at Puspa Cafe, sitting a few tables away from you and Cyno, hidden from your line of sight. Tighnari tutored Collei while Cyno played that fateful round of TCG against you, but the Forest Ranger kept a close eye on his friend. Though he didn’t want to get too invested in Cyno’s love life, even he couldn’t help but grow anxious as he watched the TCG match end with Cyno’s loss.
Although Tighnari was too far away to hear what Cyno was saying, he could tell the moment of confession had come. Now, the ball was in your court.
You looked stunned by whatever Cyno said, but soon smiled and said something that made Cyno mirror the happy expression on your face and reach out to hold your hand. Though he couldn’t hear, Tighnari knew you had reciprocated his feelings. Even Collei quietly fawned over how cute you both looked. It had been a long journey, but he was truly happy for his friend. Out of everyone, Cyno was happiest with you, and Tighnari hoped you would continue to make him happy for many years to come.
With everything ending well, Tighnari beckoned Collei and discreetly left the cafe before you or Cyno noticed. As happy as he was for you guys, he dreaded the possibility of Cyno coercing them into a TCG match. With how elated his friend must be right now, it was only a matter of time until Cyno called him and Collei over for a new game to celebrate you accepting his feelings. In Tighnari’s opinion, you guys deserved to have some proper time to yourselves to explore your feelings and new relationship without him and Collei serving as thirdwheels. That, and he just really didn’t want to sit through another hour of watching Cyno show off for you.
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fear-is-truth · 3 months ago
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imagine… toxic exbf!rafe finding out about your tramp stamp — his name, inked in delicate script.
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“think you’re done with me?” he rasps, lips grazing the shell of your ear. the cold metal of the range rover’s hood digs into your stomach and your breasts are being squished uncomfortably as rafe presses you down, chest against your back and effectively pinning you. his hand grips the back of your neck, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away — or worse, that you’ll somehow walk out of his life for good.
“just gonna throw it all away like it meant nothing?” the bitterness in his tone stirs up the familiar heat in the pit of your belly, simmering along with rage. you swallow hard, refusing to let him see the effect he still has on you. “i had to, rafe. i can’t keep watching you destroy yourself.” valiantly trying to keep your voice steady even as his grip tightens, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you in place.
a muscle jumps in his jaw, as if you’ve physically slapped him. he leans down, chin resting on your shoulder. “you think i don’t know that? you think i don’t know fucking what i’m doing to myself? to you?” rafe lets out a humourless chuckle, his other hand sliding down your waist, fingers grazing the edge of your crop top that’s ridden up in the struggle. then he freezes, his gaze fixated on something just above your waistband — his name, inked in elegant, looping script across your lower back.
“what the hell…?” his fingertips trace over the tattoo, like he can’t believe it’s real. “when did you get this?”
your cheeks flush hot, teeth biting your lip as you try to turn your head away from him. “it was nothing,” you spit out, “i was drunk. a stupid, drunken mistake, okay?” a brief moment of silence as rafe lets the words sink in. suddenly, he yanks you back against him, the motion making you yelp. firm hands come to rest on your hips, kneading each cheek in slow circles, before he starts to grind against you.
“a mistake?” he repeats, his tone dripping with faux incredulity. you bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, even as your body betrays you, reacting to the hard line of him against you.
“funny how your ‘mistakes’ have my name all over them.”
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ravenslvt · 11 months ago
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fucking your ex boyfriend in the bathroom of a party.
☆ multiple x f!reader ☆
cw: smut, mirror sex, public sex, rough sex, hate sex (sort of), tension, alcohol, oral f! receiving, v fingering, spanking, pet names, praise, sex with feelings, unprotected sex
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you don’t know how your bestfriend managed to rope you into coming to this party, all you did know is you wanted to get plastered while she found someone to hook up with.
you held onto her for dear life as you made your way through groups of people. mostly strangers, but you saw some familiar faces. you started to feel a bit nervous when you noticed some eyes roaming your outfit. maybe you should’ve worn a longer skirt…
your bestfriend’s eyes immediately spotted a pretty girl across the room, she gives you an apologetic smile. you roll your eyes.
“just go” you sigh. at least someone would be getting some action tonight. you make your way to the kitchen where there were bottles apon bottles layed out on the counter. you grab one of the disposable cups, pouring yourself a mixed drink before downing it. the liquor bringing a comforting burn down your throat.
suddenly, you felt a cold chill in the room. you look around, there were no windows or doors open. until finally, your eyes immediately draw to a pair of familiar ones. oh great, he’s walking over. you turn around, pretending you didn’t notice him, hoping he’ll walk past you.
“oh, c’mon. acting like you didn’t see me?” he leans against the counter next to you, a drink in his own hand. fuck, he still wore the same cologne. the smell almost made you dizzy. he was wearing an unfamiliar jacket, it looked new.
his name rolls off your tounge in a harsh greeting, taking another swig of your drink. he gives a lopsided smile. “still mad at me, pretty?” he takes your empty cup, refilling it for you the way he knew you always liked it. you give him a glare. he puts his arms up in defense. his body looked bigger, more defined. he was clearly working out more since you two broke up.
you snatched your cup back. if you were going to be forced into this conversation, you might as well be drunk.
“why are you here?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his own. he was drawing you in without even trying.
“i was invited. why are you here?” he pokes your shoulder with his pointer finger.
you just point to your best friend across the room, who was now making out with the cute girl from earlier. he huffs out a small chuckle. “that girl never rests, does she.” he comments. you just shake your head, “no she does not.” you sigh, another swig.
his eyes go back to you. more specifically, your outfit. you had a new top on, he’d never seen it before. he’d have remembered seeing such a pretty shirt on you before. and of course, you wore your favorite mini skirt. the one he always loved you wearing.
“this is cute, wear this for me hmm?” he smirks, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of the skirt. you swat his hand. he was the one who bought it for you. almost fucking you in the dressing room when you tried it on after doing a little spin for him.
“no… i just had nothing else to wear.” your face flushes. you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from the fact you were both thinking about the times you’d sit on his lap in this skirt, panties off while you bounced on his cock.
god, he loved that skirt.
you could feel yourself clench around nothing just thinking about it. he gets a little closer when he notices your flushed state, his fingers drumming against the table filled with alcohol. his damned fingers that knew every part of your body.
ok, you were definitely a little drunk, or maybe you were just stupid.
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your back slams against the door of the bathroom, the blasting music muffled from the small enclosed room.
your lips met in a hungry, bruising kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. his large hands gripped your waist, your head forced against the wood. he moves one of his hands to shove between your thighs under your skirt, his fingers digging into your panties, making you whine into his mouth when he pinches your clit.
“fuck, this wet already? missed me that much, sweetheart?” he mumbles into your mouth, pulling away to pull the flimsy fabric down your legs with his free hand. of course you wore your favorite panties, the ones he bought especially for you. the sight made him groan.
“i’m not your-“
“i wasn’t talking to you.” he stares directly at your slick pussy. great, now he was talking straight to your cunt.
you look at him with glossy eyes as he kneels down, kissing down your thighs. you hook your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, but he gives your thigh a slap. “keep it on. i wanna see you get fucked in this pretty little skirt again.” he practically growls as he gives your thighs a few more kisses and bites, marking you up.
“want everyone to see you still belong to me.” he sucks marks into your upper thighs, placing a few where your little skirt couldn’t cover.
you mewl his name when his tounge delves into your sopping pussy, his fingers pulling your folds apart to get more access. your hands grip his hair for some stability as he laps you, his tounge switching from flicking your sensitive clit to prodding at your tight hole.
he replaces his mouth with his fingers, pumping two into your cunt as he suctions his lips onto your bud, making you bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out, almost drawing blood.
“fuckk!” his long fingers hit deep inside of you, his digits shifting between thrusts and curling inside. your legs shook, hands gripping his hair for dear life. giving him a particularly hard tug, he groans into your cunt, the vibrations making you let out a moan.
the mixture of stimulations had you on the edge, he knew you were about to cum.
time almost seems to slow as he feels you clench around his fingers, your eyes flutter shut, gripping his hair for dear life as pools of fire seep low in your abdomen. his fingers continue to pump into you as you cum, wetness dripping down his chin and wrist.
it was probably obvious you hadn’t fucked anyone since you two broke up the way your pussy responded so well to him.
still, he doesn’t pull away, addicted to the taste of you. he was completely lost in your cunt until you pushed at his head, whining his name. he reluctantly pulls away, giving your cute clit a few more kisses before parting.
you both pant, his face glistening in your slick. you almost moan at the sight.
“you taste even better than i remember, baby.” his hands sooth down your thighs.
“don’t call me that.” you heavily breathe. he just chuckles, standing up. his firm hands grab your ass, giving it a firm smack, making you yelp.
“face the mirror. wanna watch you take my dick.” he pats your hip, encouraging you. you obligated, finally seeing yourself in the mirror. your lip gloss was completely smeared, making you pout a little. until your ex boyfriend comes up behind you, his hard on pressing against your ass. his hand wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder as your eyes meet in the reflection.
his other hand reaches to wipe the smeared lip gloss, cleaning it up for you. his fingers tap your lips impatiently, seeking enterence. your eyes never broke contact. you open your pretty little mouth, his two fingers sliding in. you groaned as you tasted yourself on them. he grinded himself against your rear, hiking your skirt above your hips.
“gonna let me fuck this messy pussy?” his fingers enter deeper into your mouth, almost making you choke. you nod, swirling your tounge around his digets.
“mhmph” you mumble around them.
“gotta tell me how much you missed me first.” he teases, removing his fingers to slowly undo the button of his pants. you roll your eyes.
“just fuck me-“
smack
your ass stings, you were sure there was gonna be a red mark the size of his hand. you whimper.
“what was that, pretty? use your words.” he purred into your ear, biting your earlobe gently, nibbling marks down your sensitive neck.
“fuck, i missed you so much, i need your cock so bad-“ you whine his name. “-i touch myself thinking about it- but nothing is as good as you.” you shamelessly confess, a smirk growing on his smug fucking face.
“good fucking girl.” he growls, taking his raging cock out from his briefs, his hand pressing down on your back so you bend over the sink to give him easier access.
you mewled as his leaking tip pokes through your enterence.
he slowly sheathes himself in, savoring the feeling of your hot walls contracting needfully around his cock. “god, it’s been so fucking long. it’s like she’s sucking me in.”
your fingers gripped the counter in front of you, your eyes focusing on his own. the way his face scrunched once he was burried balls deep inside of you. his deep breaths, the way his hair slightly stuck to his forehead from how much he was sweating.
you’re about to speak, but your words turn into moans of his name as he thrusts in and out of you, his hips slapping against your ass. your head rolls down to rest against your arms on the counter, but he doesn’t allow that.
his hand that isn’t wrapped around your waist goes to grip your throat, pulling you back against his chest.
“watch yourself get fucked by your future husband.” he grunts, his thighs burning from all the rutting, but he’d feel that pain forever if it meant he could be able to fuck you like this again.
you watch as your tits bounce through your shirt in the mirror, drool threatening to spill from the corner of your mouth. the mirror was big enough that you could see his dick pumping into you. obscenely wet sounds coming from where you two meet.
“o-oh fuck, feels s’good, don’t stop!” you moan out, staring at him in the reflection. he was so focused on the way you felt around him, he had almost forgotten you two broke up.
“oh god, baby. i fuckin' love you, need your pussy every day, can’t live without it.” he bites your shoulder, hard, making you groan. his hand moving from your throat to grope your tits through your top. his hips only slapped into you harder and harder, your vision going blurry when the head of his cock hits your soft spot. you let out chants of his name, your arms reaching back to grip his hair to bring him impossibly closer.
you stared at yourself in the mirror. the way he slid in and out of you with ease made you squeeze around him, prompting a groan from him. your hair was out of place from his rough treatment, marks down your neck and thighs. you couldn’t even think about having to explain this to your friends later.
“squeezing me so good. so perfect for me. gonna let me fill you up, hmm? walk around with my cum dripping out of you, let everyone know you’re fucking mine.” he thrusts with a bruising pace, your whole body rocking with the rolls of his hips.
“p-please yes! need it so bad!” your mind starts to blank, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pulsing inside of you, threatening to spill at any minute.
“touch yourself, baby.” he pants, his thrusts getting sloppier. he was so close, but there was no way he was going to cum before you. you nod, bringing a shaky hand to your ruined pussy, rubbing and pinching your clit the way you liked it. your mouth fell open at the overwhelming pleasure taking over.
“m’gonna cumm!” you whine until the only thing you can say is his name, over and over. just how he always loved it. he whispers dirty praises into your ear, talking you off the ledge. you force your eyes to stay on his own in the mirror. you hated how fucking hot he was.
waves of intense heated pleasure start to roll over you, moaning as your vision gets blurry with tears of ecstasy. “s’good!” you scream, tightening around him, making it hard for him to move. he curses as you grip his cock so tightly, milking him so hard he cums inside of you.
you pant as his thrusts get lazy and eventually slow to a halt. he didn’t want to pull out, but he knew he couldn’t just stay in here with you forever, no matter how much he wanted to.
he pulls out hesitantly, the mixture of your release dripping out of you making him let out a harsh breath.
you finally come down from your orgasm, completely fucked out. oh how much you missed his cock. and him too you guess.
he turns you around, giving your cheeks kisses before enveloping his mouth with your own. your tounges gently roll over eachothers, contrasting in comparison to how he was just fucking your brains out.
your phone lights up on the counter with a text from your bestfriend. you squint, reading the message.
‘bitch i’m leaving. don’t think i didn’t see you guys btw -_-‘
he wraps his arms around your middle, seeing the message.
“gonna come home with me?” he leaves even more love bites down your neck, making you sigh.
“…yea”
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GETO, gojo, SUNA, atsumu, leon kennedy, toji, kuroo, dick grayson (sorry not sorry), your fav ;)
masterlist
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