#my thoughts are so scattered i don’t even know where this post is going
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Family Business
Summary: An evening where Lando and his wife recognise themselves in their children.
Genre: Mafia!Dad!Lando, fluff
TW: None
A/N: I have like so many stories in my drafts and just post them because why not? English is not my first language! I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Should I make a series out of this?
Masterlist
The grand villa was alive with laughter and warmth, an unusual sight for a house belonging to one of the most feared mafia families in Europe.
Lando Norris, heir to the Norris empire, sat at the head of the massive dining table, a glass of red wine in hand. The glow of the chandelier above reflected in his sharp eyes, but there was a softness to him tonight.
To his left sat you, his wife, the polar opposite of his ruthless world.
Where he ruled with strategy and precision, you led with compassion and kindness. You had a unique ability to bring light to the dark corners of his life, and tonight was no exception.
You were serving dessert yourself, much to the dismay of the staff.
“Madam, please,” Maria, the head of the kitchen, protested. “This is our job.”
“Oh, nonsense,” you said with a warm smile, placing a plate of chocolate cake in front of one of the guards. “You all work so hard. Let me treat you for once.”
Lando watched you with a mixture of amusement and adoration. The hardened men who feared his orders like gospel melted under your kindness, mumbling grateful thanks as you handed out plates.
Across the table, your children were mid-debate.
“No, no, you don’t get it,” Amelia, your ten-year-old daughter, argued, her small hands slamming the table for emphasis. “Papa’s the coolest. He’s strong, and smart, and everyone listens to him. I’m gonna be just like him!”
Lando smirked at that, leaning back in his chair. “Is that so, Amelia?”
“Yup!” She nodded confidently, her dark curls bouncing. “I’ll run the family business one day. Better than you, even.”
“Ambitious,” Lando said, raising his glass in mock salute. “I like it.”
Your eight-year-old son, Jacob, rolled his eyes. “You’re all so dramatic. Mama’s the best. She’s nice to everyone, and she doesn’t yell like Papa.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “I don’t yell.”
“You yelled at Uncle Carlos last week,” Jacob pointed out.
“That was a strategic discussion,” Lando replied, struggling to keep a straight face.
You laughed, shaking your head as you returned to your seat. “Jacob’s right. You do yell.”
Amelia crossed her arms, glaring at her brother. “You’re too soft, Jacob. How are you supposed to run the business if you can’t even scare anyone?”
“I don’t want to run the business,” Jacob said matter-of-factly, stabbing his fork into his cake. “I’m going to be a veterinarian.”
“A vet?” Amelia wrinkled her nose. “That’s boring.”
“Amelia,” you chided gently. “It’s not boring if it’s what Jacob wants. Besides, being kind is just as important as being strong.”
Amelia huffed, but your words sank in.
Lando observed the exchange quietly, marveling at the balance you brought to their lives.
Later that evening, after the kids had gone to bed, you and Lando sat on the terrace overlooking the gardens. The night air was cool, and the stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds.
“She’s got your fire, that one,” you said, leaning against Lando’s shoulder.
“And he’s got your heart,” Lando replied, lacing his fingers with yours. “We’re raising a mini us, you know.”
You laughed softly. “Is that a good thing?”
Lando kissed the top of your head. “The best thing.”
For a moment, the world outside the villa—his world of deals, betrayals, and shadows—felt far away.
Here, with you, with his children, he was simply Lando. A man who had everything he’d ever wanted, and more than he thought he deserved.
As the staff cleared the dining room below, they whispered among themselves, as they always did.
About how Mr. Norris was terrifying, yes, but also fiercely devoted to his wife.
About how Madam Norris made their lives better with her warmth and generosity.
About how the children were growing into reflections of their parents—Amelia, bold and determined, and Jacob, gentle and kind.
It wasn’t a typical mafia family, no. But it was theirs. And that was more than enough.
Thank you for reading!
#lando x reader#lando x you#lando imagine#lando norris#mafia!lando#f1 mafia au#f1 x reader#f1#dad!lando#fluff
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The Fall of Logan Fields.
Ladies and gentlemen, today, I stand before you not just as someone who called out the truth, but as the one who finally saw the end of an era. For over a year, I’ve carried a fire—a fire that burned with pure, unrelenting hate for one person: Logan Fields.
I’ve been fighting a battle that some of you didn’t even understand. I’ve been relentlessly pushing back against Logan Fields and his so-called "Logang." I took heat, I got called every name in the book, but you know what? I never gave up. I kept my eyes on the prize, and that prize was seeing Logan fall.
You can call it petty, you can call it toxic, but I knew what I was doing. I knew that the only way to bring down a kid like Logan was to keep pushing, keep fighting, keep speaking the truth even when the world tried to silence me. Every meme, every post, every comment I made—people hated me for it. People laughed at me, called me obsessive, said I was wasting my time.
But let me tell you—it was worth it.
Logan thought he was untouchable, that his army of "Logang" could protect him. But there’s something people like Logan don’t understand: you can’t hide behind followers forever. You can’t be the loudest voice in the room and not expect someone to call you out.
And I did. Every day. Relentlessly.
And now? Look at us. Look at him.
November 19th, 2024—Logan Fields, gone. Gone like that train he tried to ride, and I couldn’t be more satisfied. I’ve spent a whole year dealing with his followers, defending my stance, and now? Now, it’s over. The Logang is scattered, the king has fallen, and the noise they made for so long is nothing but silence. No more followers to back him up, no more rants to rile people up. The empire he built on the backs of delusional fans has crumbled, and it’s all because I never stopped. Every ounce of hate, every ounce of patience—it paid off.
To everyone who doubted me, to everyone who thought I was just some troll or some hater—I told you this day would come. You were wrong. This wasn’t just some internet drama. This was a mission, a purpose, a stand for something bigger. This is what happens when you don’t back down, when you don’t let the noise drown out your voice.
So, to anyone who thought I’d quit, to anyone who thought Logan would somehow rise above this, to anyone who doubted that my hate had a purpose: remember this day. The Logang is finished. Logan Fields is out of the picture. And all those who stood by me—we won.
The hate? It wasn’t just some pointless rage. It was the fuel that brought this moment to life. Here’s to the end of the Logang era, and the beginning of a new chapter. One where we’re in control. Walk with your heads up high. Now it’s your turn, your turn to GO BEYONG. PLUS ULTRAAAAA ✊✊
#guys ik y’all are illiterate and hate me#BUT please just read the speech#this is MY DAY BRUH#sbg#school bus graveyard#school bus graveyard webtoon#schoolbus graveyard#sbg (webtoon)#logan hate#logan slander#i hate logan fields.#fuck logan
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For 2,5 years he’s been shunned, holed up, depressed and suicidal. I’m not delusional, if the allegations are true he’s the cause of the same pain and suffering among the women accusing him. All I’m saying is and eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.
I will never forgive people who intentionally set out to destroy other peoples lives. I’ve seen several people on here, on Twitter and on TikTok already who’s come forward and apologised for lying about being SA’d by Lucas. It makes me sick to my stomach that people will go out of their way to ruin a person like that.
My heart broke while watching the documentary. Seeing him so broken, honest and raw brought out my own buried emotions and made me face them. I’m glad to see him working through it with the help of friends, family and members. And I’m so, so relieved that he’s able to look forwards.
Life is now. You’ll face setbacks, tragedies, grief and sorrows - but you’ll also be faced with joy, happiness, love, inspiration and warmth. Try to enjoy the bright bits of life, and don’t watch as it passes you by.
#lucas#lucas wong#huang xuxi#wong yukhei#nct#wayv#my thoughts are so scattered i don’t even know where this post is going#im really happy to see him and to hear him talk again#i dont even know what to say#im just happy#and sad at the same time#ill see you out there lumis#side note he looks very fine#a post of mine
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love bites
kenma, tsukki, kageyama, hinata; 2,025 words; fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of hickies, no "y/n", fem!reader, whiney!kageyama, dom!hinata, tsukki being... tsukki, post timeskip!characters
summary: these hickeys like the remnants of our love, footsteps on the sea-soaked sand, a line of demarcation -- here is where our story begins.
a/n: i just rly wanted to write about hq! babes and hickies...
kenma.
the first time it happens, it’s a mistake — a brief moment of vindictiveness manifest in the way he whines and nuzzles into your neck before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into your skin. when you gasp, your head tipping back, kenma pauses, pulling back, his mind already cataloging this very interesting new piece of information for later use, but his eyes have yet to catch up — his body has yet to catch up with the sight of you, cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes slightly glazed over as you stare ruefully up at him, a hand coming up to press over your mouth as you frown.
“w-what was that for?”
kenma hums, sitting back with a pout, “you were the one being unfair.”
you scowl, “how was i being unfair? you lost the game fair and square — the stakes were loser does the dishes.”
kenma sniffs, his nose crinkling at the thought, “but we have a dishwasher — it’s literally in the name —”
“but the nice wine glasses can’t be put through the dishwasher!”
you push yourself up onto your elbows even as kenma slumps back on the sofa, groaning loudly. still, he lets his head slump to one side to stare at the rapidly darkening patch of skin at the junction of your neck and shoulders. there’s something that feels dangerously like desire calcifying in the pit of his stomach and he weighs the pros and cons of leaning forward to give you another good bite.
really, dinner was great, dessert was better but — this.
suddenly, he understands what his teammates had always meant when they’d said they could keep on eating forever, even when their stomachs were full to bursting, even when they thought they’d be ill.
“stupid wine glasses…” he murmurs, leaning forward to prop his chin on your shoulder. you laugh, a soft, breathy thing as you reach out to tug a strand of hair from his low, messy bun.
“but the wine was good, no?”
kenma hums, letting his head loll back and forth, his eyes flickering down once more to the round ring of red now rising against your skin. he allows himself a tiny grin, leaning forward to press a kiss over the tender flesh. he makes note of the way you gasp, soft and expectant, the way your body seems to tense and then go laxed beneath his hands.
“yeah…” he whispers, smirking as he sinks delicate fingers into your hair, gently shifting your head to one side to allow him more access, “guess it was good…”
he presses another kiss to your neck, just slightly below the reddening hickey.
“g-guess? that was — a-an expensive bottle…”
“hmmm…” kenma trails his lips down over your shoulder, tugging lightly at your shirt, the wide collar falling away easily. when he finds yet another patch of unmarred skin, grazing his teeth over it, he feels the way you reach up to fist your fingers in his hair.
“’zume… don’t think you can get out of doing the dishes like this…”
kenma laughs, letting his breath puff out against your skin seconds before he opens his mouth and takes another soft bite. he doesn’t miss the way you whimper this time, doesn’t mistake the hitch in your breath for something like surprise when he knows better — and he knows you best of all.
“not trying to get out of doing it… just… we never specified when the loser has to do the dishes so…” he licks his lips, glancing up at you with a bright, devilish flicker behind his eyes, “i’m just taking my time with the meal. nothing wrong with that, right?”
tsukki.
it is a normal thing, for you to wake up in the morning and find remnants of the night before scattered across your skin like sand dollars littered upon a stretch of beloved beach. and tsukishima is never apologetic — ever.
if anything, he looks upon his work with pride, smirking as you tug at the collar of your shirt, tutting.
“tsukki… i told you not to bite so hard…”
“hmm… sorry, i must’ve forgotten,” he props a cheek on his hand, peering at you over his glasses, his tone the farthest thing from apologetic, “heat of the moment and all.”
you shoot him a reproachful look in the mirror and watch as his grin widens ever so slightly.
“the girls are the museum are gonna have a field day with this.”
tsukishima shrugs, slumping back into the bed with a loud, long sigh.
“dunno why girls have such a weird fixation on other people’s boyfriends. ‘s not like it’s any of their business.”
you tug listlessly at the collar of your button up shirt, resigned to the fact that you’ll never be able to hide the marks properly as you heave another sigh.
“it’s just how we communicate — it’s like… how guys sometimes just need to like… punch it out — or whatever.”
“or whatever?” tsukishima almost chortles, rolling over onto his stomach again. your schedules at the museum only overlap 2 days a week, and the rest of the days, either he’s off or you are. it’s a miracle the pair of you were able to meet in the first place, let alone hit it off like you did.
“yeah. i don’t know how guys communicate,” you say, even as tsukishima swings out of bed to come up behind you, looping his arms around your middle.
“we… don’t, really,” he admits, in a customary deadpan, propping his chin on the top of your head with obscene ease. you frown up at him, tilting your head back till it hits the middle of his chest.
“you’re gonna make me late again.”
“so?”
“so — unless you want me to get fired —”
“they’re not gonna fire you. you’re too good at… cataloging maps, or whatever it is you guys do in the cartography department.”
tsukishima spins you around his arms, pressing you lightly back against the mirror. he considers you for a moment, with eyes just sharp enough to pass for academic interest, but you see the darkness misting its depths, the pressure in his fingertips as he leans in to seal his lips over yours in a kiss that could only be called searing.
you break away gasping, only to feel his lips trail fire down your neck seconds before —
“t-tsukki — !”
he pulls back with a satisfied smirk; you can feel yet another bruise blooming along your skin.
“there. one more thing for you and your girlfriends to bond over, hm?”
kageyama.
it is a deliberate thing, the first time. but kageyama remembers the strange gravity, the tug just behind his navel, the persistent itch of curiosity as he leans forward to sink his teeth into your skin.
he likes the way you hiss, the way you go soft in his arms, the pair of you already a pile of tangled limbs on the massive sectional in the living room, the lights dimmed, half a bottle of red wine yet un-drunk on the coffee table.
“tobio… what —”
he hums, burying his face in your shoulder, fingers digging into your sides.
“… something i wanted to try…”
“hm?” you gently card your fingers through his hair, quirking your head to one side.
“it’s just —” he pulls back, a deep blush prickling his cheeks as he looks anywhere but at you, “something… i’ve wanted to try. for — a while,” he admits, looking shockingly small for a internationally renowned volleyball player, hunched over on the couch like this, his lips stained dark with wine.
you giggle, leaning up to tilt his chin back towards yours.
“sure. you can try whatever you want.”
you lay back, stretching out beneath him, pliant and willing, and kageyama goes still for a solid four seconds before he narrows his eyes, an un-namable hunger clawing at his insides as he pulls you beneath him and groans into your skin.
he likes the way the colors seep the surface of your skin, likes the way it’s so obvious against the bright of your collarbones. he spends all of the following day in an intoxicatingly good mood, to the point where his teammates are understandable suspicious. but he just tells them he slept well, that he had a good dinner last night, that wine was really, really delicious.
and that thanks for the recommendation.
hinata.
brazil has changed him, in more ways than you can count, but at the same time, in some ways, he is just, just the same.
“s-shou-you!”
“mmm —” he whines sucking a deep hickey into the junction of your neck, his pupils blown wide as he pulls back, lips split into a too-pleased grin, “what is it? did i hurt you?”
there’s the barest hint of a tease in his voice, and anyone else might’ve thought he’s completely serious, that he’s actually worried. and in a sense, he is — he’d never want to actually hurt you. but he also knows that — to a certain degree, you revel in this kind of pain.
you chew on your bottom lip, shaking your head.
“no… it’s — it’s okay.”
“yeah?” he sounds entirely too happy with himself as he reaches forward to thumb at the damp spot on your skin, “ah… that one’ll be pretty. just like you!”
he laughs, his joy so pure and infectious that it makes you blush. you look away.
“shou…?”
“hm? what is it, pretty girl?”
he bends back down to press a light kiss to your collarbone, peaking up at you with those would-be innocent eyes.
“don’t… don’t tease me.”
hinata laughs, that self-same, joyous sound.
“but i like teasing you!” he says, with no hint of malice, not a single sliver of shame.
you can only cover your eyes with your arm, turning your head away.
“aww, don’t do that —” he says, coaxing your hand away before pinning both of them above your head with a single, fluid move. your breath hitches.
“don’t hide from me…”
it’s too much to hope for that someone with eyes like his would miss such a thing. you watch as the dark, lightless centers of his eyes grow ever so slightly larger, threatening to overtake the honeyed ring of his actual iris.
“can’t… can’t help it…” you look away, feeling the waves of indomitable heat, wave after wave, washing through you, collecting at the base of your stomach to twist into something deeper, something harder.
“can’t help what, hm?” hinata laces your fingers with his; distinctly, you can feel his thighs flex on either side of your legs, locking you in place. the summers are hot in rio, but you can’t help but wonder if more than half the heat in the room might be coming from the pair of you alone.
all around him, the air wavers like a reflection in pond-water —
“shou… just —” you lick your lips.
“ah…” there’s a soft whine curling at the edge of his voice as he leans down, “you’re not playing fair at all…”
desire pulses like a heartbeat inside you.
“shouyou, please,” you beg, trying to wrest some semblance of control back from him but he’s having none of it. he pins your hands to either side of your head, his bed more than wide enough for the pair of you, with room to spare.
“mah… you gotta be a bit more specific than that,” he says, his voice almost casual as he noses into your pulse point right beneath your jaw. you hold your breath and a second later, the harsh sting of his teeth rakes through you, chasing pleasure down your spine.
“m-more —” you choke out the word against the heat of his lips and you feel rather than see him grin above you.
“yeah? i think i can do that for you.”
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu drabbles#hq fanfic#hq x reader#kenma kozume#kenma x reader#kenma kozume x reader#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei#tsukishima kei x reader#hinata shouyou#hinata shouyou x reader#kageyama x reader#kageyama tobio#hinata x reader#kageyama tobio x reader#haicuties#floofy floof floof#daydreams#scheduled post
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୭ 𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗦 ˚. ᵎᵎ
ekko 𝒙 fem!reader
୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled
୨୧ Thank you so much for the support on the first oneshot, this is mostly fluff because I have to heal the wounds in my heart that arc two left behind.
୨୧ I'm still learning how to use masterlists and stuff (😿) but you can send me requests if you want! For now I'm only going to write about Ekko (or until I learn how to use tumblr) then I'll post the list of characters I could write for.
୨୧ Inspired by some headcanons of @blllllllllllllllllllue
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
The Firelights’ hideout always felt alive, even in its quietest moments, but your little corner was a chaos. It was where you crafted, creating not just the masks that symbolized your rebellion but tiny pieces of identity for your comrades.
"Something like this?" you asked, holding up a rough sketch for the recruit seated across from you. He was new to the team and still shy around most people, but with you, he seemed to relax, likely due to your welcoming demeanor.
“Yeah, that’s cool,” he said, leaning in to inspect it. "But, uh, could you make the eyes a little bigger? I want it to look more… intense."
“Intense. Got it.” You jotted down the adjustment in the margins, smiling as you worked. “Anything else?”
The recruit hesitated for a moment before glancing at you sheepishly. “So, uh, are you Ekko’s girl? Like… his girlfriend?”
The question caught you so off guard that the pencil slipped from your fingers. Heat bloomed in your cheeks, and you scrambled to compose yourself.
“Oh! Uh, yeah. I mean—yes. I am.”
The recruit grinned.
“Thought so. He talks about you all the time.”
Your heart did a funny little flip, equal parts warmth and embarrassment.
“He does?”
“Yeah. Like, a lot. You’d think you hung the moon or something”
The boy’s teasing tone made you flush deeper. Before you could decide whether to be mortified or flattered, another voice broke through.
“Hey! Ekko’s looking for you!” A little boy poked his head in the door, oblivious to the conversation he was interrupting. “Said it’s important.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.” You turned back to the recruit, already rising to your feet. “I’ve got everything I need for your mask. I’ll start on it soon.”
“Take your time,” he replied, giving you a knowing look as you walked out.
He nodded, and with a small wave, you left the workshop and made your way to Ekko’s space.
The closer you got to Ekko’s workshop, the quieter the base became, the energy from the rest of the Firelights retreating into the distance. You pushed the door open cautiously, only to find the room eerily calm. The usual clatter of tools and the whir of machinery were absent.
When you stepped inside the workshop, the quiet was almost eerie. Tools and half-built gadgets lay scattered across Ekko’s workbench, but there was no sign of him.
“Ekko?” you called, glancing around.
No answer.
A small knot of worry tightened in your chest.
“If this is a joke, it’s not funny—”
Before you could finish, arms wrapped around you from behind, lifting you off the ground. You let out a startled yelp as you were spun around, your voice mixing with laughter that bubbled up despite yourself.
“Ekko!” you cried, trying to sound indignant, but failing miserably as he set you down, his grin impossibly wide. “You scared the life out of me, you jerk!”
“Couldn’t resist,” he admitted, still chuckling. His voice carried that familiar mix of playfulness and warmth that always made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in and planted a quick kiss on your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”
You swatted at his arm, trying to suppress a smile.
“What did you need me for, anyway? And don’t say it was just to scare me.”
“Relax, Firefly,” he teased, stepping back. “I’ve got something for you. Close your eyes.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.
“If this is another prank—”
“It’s not,” he said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Promise. Just trust me.”
After a brief hesitation, you sighed and shut your eyes.
“Okay, but if you throw something at me—”
“Shh. No peeking.”
You heard him moving around, the soft clang of metal and the scrape of something being picked up. Your curiosity burned, but you kept your eyes closed, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides.
“Alright,” Ekko said finally. “Open.”
When you did, your breath caught. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers—each one was intricately crafted from scrap metal, their petals shaped and welded together with incredible precision. They shimmered faintly in the light, their edges polished to a soft gleam.
“I made these for you,” Ekko said, his voice quieter now, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react. His smile, though, was radiant, the little gap in his front teeth only adding to its charm. “You like them?”
“Like them?” you echoed, reaching out to take the bouquet. “Ekko, they’re beautiful. You made these?”
He scratched the back of his neck, looking both proud and bashful.
“Yeah. Thought you’d appreciate something… different. Real flowers don’t last long down here”
You turned the bouquet in your hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. Each flower was unique, and the care he’d put into them was evident in every detail. Your chest felt tight with emotion as you looked back at him.
“Why, though? What’s the occasion?”
Ekko’s grin returned, mischievous but endearing.
“The right way to ask my girlfriend out on a date. Tonight.”
Your lips parted in surprise.
“A date?”
“Yeah. Thought it was time we did something just for us. No missions. Just you and me.” He stepped closer, his gaze locked on yours. “So, what do you say?”
A warm, fuzzy silence hung between you, the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes tying your tongue. Your gaze flicked to his lips, the same thought clearly mirrored in his mind as he leaned closer.
The moment stretched as the world outside seemed to blur and fade. Just as your lips were about to meet—
“Oh, uh, sorry!”
Both you and Ekko jumped apart as the recruit from earlier barged in, a sheepish look on his face.
“I just—uh—I had another idea for the mask and thought—”
Ekko sighed loudly, his previous grumpiness overtaking his usual charm.
“Seriously?”
“I’ll just—uh—leave” the recruit stammered, already retreating back through the door.
You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“It’s fine,” you told him. “We can talk about it later.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension melting away as you stepped back.
“Guess we’ll have to finish this later, huh?”
Ekko’s pout was almost comical.
“You owe me, Firefly.”
As you turned to leave, you blew him a playful kiss. Ekko grinned, pretending to catch it in midair and press it to his chest.
“See you later.”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
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Can I be him?
Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 4.8K
A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤
Masterlist
Being an Avenger is not easy.
The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…
Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.
For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.
It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.
You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related.
Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.
You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.
You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.
The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.
Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.
It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training.
The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.
You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.
Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.
Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.
Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.
You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.
At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.
Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch.
Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.
Because of me.
That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity.
You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.
Not that you ever do.
If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.
Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.
Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.
But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked.
The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.
You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.
You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.
Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.
Bucky knew then he was in love.
But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down.
You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.
So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.
But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.
Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.
For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.
That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.
He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing.
Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.
So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.
Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.
But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.
Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.
You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.
You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.
Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.
You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.
Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.
And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.
He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.
Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.
Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.
So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.
He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.
He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.
But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo.
Bucky did notice, though.
He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.
He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.
When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days.
He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.
It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely.
You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life.
A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it.
You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates.
And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?
He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?
Of course it’s not me.
It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear.
Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.
He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.
Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.
But Bucky didn’t read that.
He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.
It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.
After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.
It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.
He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.
It’s silly to say, but you miss him.
Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.
He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.
You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.
A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.
You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.
You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.
Or at least that’s what you think.
As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.
Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”
That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.
You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.
Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.
Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.
The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.
The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.
“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”
Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.
He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.
But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.
His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.
Right?
He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.
But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.
“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.
“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.
As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.
Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.
As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.
Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.
When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.
That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.
That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.
He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.
Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.
Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.
Because you’re going to wake up.
Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.
Everything is dying.
Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?
No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.
He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.
He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.
But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.
Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.
After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.
That he could’ve lived with.
But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.
Not that he has to.
While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.
You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.
You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.
You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?
You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.
When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.
But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.
You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.
“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.
For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.
“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.
It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?”
You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.
“I’m okay…” He reassures you.
Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?”
“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”
“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”
“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.
“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”
Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?
You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.
Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.
“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”
“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”
Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?
Could I be him?
“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.
“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.
“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.
Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.
“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?
“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.
“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.
It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!”
Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”
You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.
Instead you lean in and kiss him.
Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”
You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.
“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again.
Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?
It looks like he can be him after all.
#bucky barnes#avengers x reader#bucky barnes x you#sam wilson#steve rogers#clint barton#tony stark#peter parker#natasha romanoff#avengers x platonic!reader#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#marvel fanfiction#thor odinson#loki laufeyson#bruce banner#wanda maximoff
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SECRETS & SPELLS
m reader x kazuha ; sakura // 14k words
“Really,” and you’re saying this with the most unimpressed look on your face, knowing Sakura’s bullshit could never get to you that easily, “And here I thought we had something special going on between us,” you tell her with a gesture of a hand, signifying the rapport.
She laughs at that, because deep down you’ll put up with her antics in the end either way. Whether it would be spilling a few drinks down her throat or splitting her open until the crack of dawn breaks into the horizon, you’ll get the last say before she does. Always.
“Do tell,” says Sakura, “Besides, you’ve got my number on speed dial.”
-
It’s actually a pretty funny thing how the sacred law of attraction works in these kinds of scenarios; at least, that’s what you’ve learned when Sakura barged into your life from completely out of nowhere. This might come off as unexpected: you’re the TA for one of the design courses, and Sakura happened to be one of the top students in the class with the highest probability to break through into the fashion industry come post-grad.
And at every turn since the beginning of the semester, she has managed to impress you amazingly.
Everything’s all lighthearted at the first meeting - the usual buzz about this stellar connection you have with Sakura - and she feels the same sentiment. The feedback is subtle; the compliments start to pile on one another; you’re noticing features in her appearance that might be falling into the obvious scope of things, but you take note of them either way.
Wasn’t that long until you’ve mustered up the courage to treat her out after she came to you for additional advice and pointers and such from one of her personal projects. Although the first date was an absolute train wreck to your standards, she was willing enough to come back around for more.
One meeting happens again, and another.
Then the next one.
And the next one.
The weeks start to mesh together aside from all the usual routines and responsibilities filling up your schedule and calendar. But you’ve managed to set time aside whenever possible because that’s all part of having fun with someone like her. And sure, you’re waiting for that Friday to hit every time because it relieves you of anything for a short period; it’s also safe to say that you’re not the only one.
So you learn a lot of things about Sakura. More ways than you would like.
And it’s not even worth blaming the lowered inhibitions due to the alcohol. A test drive of sorts, the natural course of thoughts coming out from your brain and channeling that to your words and actions whenever you’re around her, there’s that appreciation in the honesty - wondering where has this girl been all your life?
Because Sakura falls in a lot of ways. Ways that you would never have expected:
“For one thing,” you’re telling her while being roped deeper into the club by her hand, “I don’t think the number 1-800-hot-n-fun was a viable one to go with, by the way.” She twists her head around once getting past the foyer, opening up from the inside to scattered crowds spaced away from the dance floor. As expected for a Friday night to no surprise - the thrumming of your eardrums in response to the overpowering bass proving a clear struggle in terms of discernibility.
“Do I have to remind you again?” Sakura tells you, loosening the grip as you’ve managed to get in close proximity, unfazed when your body is practically on top of hers, passing through the crowd, “We’re doing that thing with Miss ‘you - know - who’. Unless you’re asking me to just leave your ass back in the apartment, but oh wait - you're already here with me as it is.”
“Sure.” And that’s how things like these usually go with her: you’ll be doing one thing, then the familiar contact on your phone pops up on your lockscreen. Some days you’d drop whatever you were doing in a heartbeat - if it was willing to kill time or procrastinate, she’d know your answer already. “Drop the code name. You’re not being really inconspicuous with-”
“Kazuha? But it fits the profile perfectly!” She’s beaming, exchanging a few glances with some regulars hovering outside the dance floor, her face lighting up with wide eyes andan open an open mouth.
“But seriously,” you say, and with as much sarcasm that you could pull out of your ass, “I thought that was a one-time thing with her.” Sakura rolls her eyes, spearheading to one of the booths on the far end of the dance floor, secluded in a suspicious corner where no one else would end up unless being escorted off with enough shots in their system to do so in the first place.
And you learn - with Sakura, nothing is ever a one time thing with her. Ever. She brought you into a trap, the kind where you couldn’t even get out of if you tried.
Like all necessary cues for an entrance, this one doesn’t really have a notable introduction since you’re the one that’s interested without actually saying it explicitly. The lone girl sitting in the booth catches your eye, spacing out with the colorful floating lights occasionally hitting her face as she appears to be breaking a sweat despite her stoic expression.
She looks nervous, probably flustered at the fact that she’s even in the dance club considering how flushed her face looks without the color. You look over to Sakura, to which she smiles with her eyes, already feeling the stage being set for what’s to come.
“You sure you want to leave this as a one - off?” She asks, combing down some of her hair while waving at the girl in the booth. “Think of this as a chance to redeem yourself with her - her - I mean, me.”
“Not everything has to be about you. Acting as the lynchpin when you also want to join in on the fun as well.”
Sakura nicks her head, that prying grin coming at the corner where you can’t see it up front. She studies your features, the way your face crinkles at every remark or sly comeback that leaves her lips, priming those synapses ready and raring for how she wants this night to go. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen. It worked last time, and it’ll work again.”
With all thoughts considered, it all leads to one inevitable conclusion:
“I’d love for you to work her over again, like you did before,” she husks, lazily placing her lips along the line of your jaw. The nerve ends down your neck and spine tingling at the contact as your feet move along with hers, approaching closer to the lone girl waiting at the table, locking irises and noticing her pulled lip. “And just for your information, she’s so into you.”
“Are you sure it’s not the other way around with him?” Kazuha butts in, sliding over a subtle appetizer of some casual chips and assorted dips; the duo of Arnold Palmers is also quick to follow soon after. “I mean, you’re the one who likes to kiss everybody, Sakura.”
“Not true,” she rebukes. “But I-”
“If you want to test that theory,” you’re telling the both of them, smiling with eyes trained alternating on looks, sipping a bit of the beverage down, “I think both of you would be convinced to take this somewhere that allows more misbehavior to happen.”
-
It’s not that you’re not able to remember the events of last night. It’s the fact that you can’t remember what took place last night at all.
Though your memory starts to stir back to normal at the floating pair of lips hovering over and around your face in the late morning going into the afternoon.
You’re squinting from the overbearing light that breaks through the curtains and and the ambient sounds of traffic in the distance from the open window. There’s also the realization that the mobility in your body is severely hammered, and with good reason.
A look up past the sheets, and it’s a body pressed next to yours, sprawled with an arm and leg thrown over your thigh and stomach, still trying to be mindful in care not to wake you. She looks up at you with doe eyes before fluttering them shut and nestling deeper into the side of your chest, rubbing her hand across the more she gets comfortable.
“About time you woke up,” she mumbles, giggling at you, plopping your head back onto the pillow. “I was wondering if you were actually dead or something, not that I would be worried of course.”
“And if I was?” The question alone is alone is rhetorical as it sounds, blinking up towards the ceiling while adjusting your body meshed into the mattress and in between the sheets, “I feel like you could’ve put in a little more effort to, well, bring me back to life.”
This girl then sits up, lets the comforter trickle down to her waist, exposing her breasts; the marks still apparent from the night prior, serving to be a good kickstarter for your memory now that most of the alcohol should’ve subsided by now. “Maybe I should’ve put more effort into that, the same way that you handled us,” she tells you, “God, you really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”
“Sakura,” you say, and you’re calling her out with a soft laugh bubbling beneath your stomach.. “I’d hate to be honest with you, but I can’t even remember the amount of drinks we had at the place. That’s how you know it’s bad if you were in my shoes.”
“But you were still sober enough to dick me down after a long week?”
You don’t give an answer to Sakura’s question, but the way her actions do the talking should already say enough: placing kisses on your shoulder, shuffling herself closer to you, hand slithering to a certain spot where it’s also jogging your memory.
“Sweetie,” you tell her, a dragged - out sigh leaving your lips once Sakura’s practiced fingers start to touch down around your half-hardened cock. “You wouldn’t mind helping me remember what we did last night, right?”
Well, of course, she’d say, but instead she laces that phrase in the form of a kiss. Knowing her, she’d be willing to assist in whatever it is that you do. A transactional service: you do one thing for her and she’d do the same. And the repayment could really come in a handful of methods, but this one usually takes top of the list.
“I don’t,” Sakura answers, giggling softly when you’re trying to push for more, leaning your head to meet her lips, her pulling away just to play a little tease. “As much as I would love to help you, I can’t be the only one to do all the work around here. It tarnishes your gentlemanly appearance, but that’s what I think.”
You pull one of her legs up, shifting her closer to you when she has her lips working you again, hand twisting deliberately around your cock. The pace alone is strategic and slow, but very well practiced and methodical, licking up her palm to ensure she’s soaking up the sensitive surface in every spot possible.
She also takes the hint with the sliding hand up her waist, straddling over your thighs to where you’re almost pinned against the headboard, grip still apparent around your shaft, keeping steady the more she scooches her hips up beneath your groin. You get lost in the valley of her waist, the defined abs well deserved from the hard work in the gym, the gaze she possesses with those lovely, messy locks in her hair, the pure seductiveness with her hand grazing her breast. You’re being pulled back in with another intoxicating kiss, filled with so much care and and love, and all of that to be replaced with undesirable lust that seems to entrap both of you like the heavenly light breaking through the thin curtains in your room.
The taste, the scent of her - still present from last night’s tales - are another reminder and trick for your mind to work around against the lingering after effects of the alcohol.
“Is it working?” She asks, holding herself just above your length with hands fast around your neck, “Or do you still need some help getting your memory up to speed?”
Sakura then reaches over to the nightstand, a Polaroid captured in between her pointer and middle finger, eyes slanted along with her face, watching you examine the picture in the small snapshot. Another fragment is obtained through this, internalizing the appearance of her marked - up body sprawled up on the same bed you’re lying in, with another body next to her but the face isn’t shown.
Just as you’re about to say your answer, she catches you by surprise, the press of her lips on you again, hips jumping up in impulse when her pussy settles on top of the underside of your shaft, hands naturally trained to her hips as the slow pecks eventually become more inviting, passionate.
Maybe the home remedies would’ve been a sufficient option to cure your hangover, but with Sakura, she herself is the best kind of morning after pill that you’ll take the chance over if the opportunity presents itself like it has right now. Her kisses become more intoxicating, hoping that you’ll want her in the same fashion that she’s emitting - a being that’s blessed with a wanting so addicting, it’s impossible to think twice about it. Your mouth makes its way down the fine column of her throat and then to her chest, marking up the same spots as you did the night before, tugging onto one of her stiff nipples with your teeth.
The grip in your hair with her fingers starts to become tighter, forcing her body onto you more. She holds you there, cheek pressed to the crown of your head, the moans proving to be positive feedback for you, grinding her hips slightly over your cock, making your grasp more protective of her, as if you didn’t want her to leave your presence whatsoever.
She captures your lips again, hands now on both ends of your face, humming in approval when yours find their way to her ass, clawing your fingertips on the soft skin, setting the tempo of how her pussy lips glide across your cock, bathing it in her slick, and a small feeling of what’s to come in the passing minutes. Her teeth clash with yours on accident, laughing as she scaffolds her kisses down to your cheek, to the pulsepoint, on your trap, biting lightly as a proud badge of honor. Pulling away, she bites her lip, placing another kiss before pressing you back to the wall.
“Saku,” you sputter, gasping out when her hips slide forward, pressing herself down on your cock that tenses all of the muscles in your legs, straightening them out beneath the sheets for a moment. “Fuck, you–”
“Shh,” she says, finger on your lips.. “It’s helping a lot, right?” Her hand sliding down your chest, nails grazing across your skin riddled with goosebumps, probably because of how cold the room has gotten but at the same time how the heat between your two continues to build up. “I gave you two hints already, so do what you will with that.”
“I think it is coming together,” you say, puppy dog eyes in amazement with how Sakura keeps your chin tilted up while the movement of her hips hypnotizes you. “But seriously, holy fuck, I-”
Sakura pays no attention to your spills of cutoff praise, a moan from her lips and yours let out in unison when she rubs her clit right at the tip, hunching her back over, your face getting caught between the figurative net that is her tits, drawing another mark with your teeth and soothing it after with the flat plane of your tongue.
If she’s not careful, this right amount of pressure from her pussy over your aching cock might spell disaster for you before even getting started with resuming last night's activities. Her body is already becoming a live wire to feed off on; the taste and how responsive she’s been so far, you’ll play into it for as long as she allows it.
Luckily, she knows your body well enough as hers, stopping herself as she scooches down. The trail of kisses coming back with the first couple scattering their way down from your lips, cheeks, and neck, now down to the chest. Every touch of her lips across the canvas of your body only sends your mind deeper into that endless barrel of delusion and madness from the fantasies you’ve discovered with Sakura.
It might also be worth mentioning how she substituted her pussy for her hand again, dainty fingers well placed around your shaft again, pulling it upwards as she buries herself beneath the sheets, lips now planting kisses at the hip and down to the thigh, then turning her attention to your twitching cock.
You could feel the muscles in your ass clench underneath her body, watching with the comforter raised up to hide her from the open doorway, focused on how her breath grazes along your underside, carefully working her way up to place a chaste kiss to your tip, her tongue getting the first tastes of her favorite snack, swallowing the head first.
She then inches down a bit, pulling herself up and out, tongue swirling and well trained. The feeling settles in static breaths, watching her be grateful for the reward she’s worked hard for in the short span of time. Her head lowers for another second, you lift your hips up to meet in the middle for her, and she stares at you with glossy eyes.
The comforter gets lowered as your hands find themselves onon Sakura’s wrists.
“Saku,” you groan automatically. Sakura’s eyes flutter in approval when she slides her puckered lips further down your length. The tiny press of her perfect lips, her tongue again slathering up the underside again, tracing a vein.
Her hand finds itself at the base, building up a rhythm in her bobs that you’re all too familiar with. Tongue and the opening past her mouth and into the throat, moving in every move imaginable that she knows that you love and like.
And it’s also this double-edged sword - a blessing or curse on her terms, how the vibrations coming from her vocal cords wrap around your cock whilst in her mouth, letting you know how ravishing you are for her cravings.
“Keep the comforter over me.” Sakura commands, purring. Mixing in the swiping of her tongue as well as the erotic kisses she’s spoiling your cock with. Her head goes sideways, treating to one side of the base, dipping down to take one of your balls in her mouth. She’s also aware of how much you like your blowjobs to be wet, so it’s no surprise when she spits all over your cock, ensuring that no spot was left untouched with her saliva.
You do as she says, letting your hands rest beneath the sheets along with Sakura; the view of the room now opened up past the obstruction, watching as the small bump between your legs indicated Sakura’s head, slowly feeling her head working her way down your cock, gasping when you feel the tip of her nose meet your stomach.
She laughs with a mouthful of cock in her mouth still when she hears the sound of the back of your head hitting the wall, gripping the fuck out of her wrist on your leg to let her know that she’s doing wonders - in addition to the tension in your hips, bucking as she’s putting enough effort to take all of you down her throat, shifting her head side by side with the small chokes minimized with the comforter over her.
The pace comes back, but this time with more variety. A hand is wrapped around your shaft, holding it in one spot while her mouth takes you right at the half, gagging as the suction deepens. She’s managed to have your cock slicked up enough to where her fingers are easy to swivel around, doubling down on the stimulation.
Sakura isn’t one to really be forward when it comes to 'relieving your stress’, but with the amount of practice that she’s had from past experiences,, that thread of thoughts continues to open different avenues to sit on a balcony and ponder on. Earlier this week she felt compelled to have you bust all over her face because of how hot you looked while doing a virtual meeting on the couch; you’re picturing the image in your head - how she looks so good with your lips on you, so practiced, mouth pressuring all the right spots and tongue slicing through a vein and maybe lower.
“Baby, baby, holy shit,” you’re moaning out again, getting a response from Sakura’s filled-up mouth, picturing the furrowed eyebrows and half-lidded eyes beneath the sheets. She moves your hands up from her wrists and into her hair, prompting you to shove the best inches down into her throat, much to the point where you’re nearly sitting upright to do so.
This isn’t something to think too hard about: thrusting your hips into Sakura’s face in the morning - into that sweet heat of her mouth, how her nails are creating crevices in your skin, relaxing her mouth and throat enough to stuff nearly all of your length to that one hole of hers. You know that she could go on with this for as long as you’d like, instinctively helping her part a few stray fringes in her hair without even being able to see it. She’s sometimes worried if you’re hurting yourself with every deepthroat she does to you, assuring that having no gag reflex makes these bits in the whole experience a whole lot more pleasurable.
“Mmph.”
“This fucking mouth of yours, Saku,” you mumble, not paying any care to the increased volume of gags or the purring vibration of her open mouth creating this vacuum within your stomach - since the addicting suction and clench were about to send you into oblivion.
“Mmmmph…”
“God,“ you choke out. One thing you don’t want to accept to yourself or to anyone, for that matter: this was the best fucking way to wake up.
“So fucking good,” she mumbles.
Another thing you’d hate to admit sometimes is the fact that even though you've been restricted from seeing Sakura take in your cock so well underneath the sheets, that’s traded in for how fast you could feel yourself coming undone again. That sense of pride also put you in jeopardy because every lick, plunge, and slip of your length into her mouth was another step in the pattern in transition to holding herself steady. It also doesn’t help that she tilts her head up, poking the head of your cock on the inside of her cheek, swiping the tongue at the underside, and seriously, this woman.
The eerie ringing between your ears starts to pop up randomly, your body getting riddled with every overstimulating feeling being thrown right at it. The slickness in her mouth, the grip around the root becoming too tight, the gags becoming intense - your mouth is hanging low as your eyes begin to roll up to the back of your head. She doesn’t plan on playing it safe, and the edge is rapidly getting to you; it’s too fast, too soon, okay, oh fuck, oh fuck.
“Saki!” a voice calls out past the open door leading into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you?” Shit, the tone sounds awfully familiar, and you also notice the trail of clothes along the floor. Another fragment from last night flashes in your brain; though, you’re trying to keep focus while Sakura’s heat surrounds your cock as you hear the sound of feet scraping along the hardwood floor.
“Saki, I-” The second girl stops short past the door, phone in her hand and hair tousled, but still presentable. She’s wearing your dress shirt from the night before, unbuttoned and parted perfectly enough to where you could see the inner curve of her tits - her long, creamy thighs stand out to you, making your lowered jaw salivate when she cocks her head to the right out of curiosity, hands behind her back with her tongue buried behind her bottom lip. “Well, what do we have here?”
How could you forget? The additional set of clothes on the floor? The lady next to Sakura’s ruined body covered with cum on the Polaroid photo?
Kazuha. Who else but Kazuha?
“Good morning,” you greet, paying no attention to your hands as they appear to be all over the place before settling themselves above the sheets, just adjacent to the subtle bump where Sakura’s bobbing head was located. “I was wondering where you went off to.”
“I couldn’t really sleep, so I thought it would be a good idea to whip up some food to kill time,” says Kazuha, biting her lip at the sight of your hand resting above the oddly shaped form between your legs and underneath the sheets. “You wouldn’t mind if I asked: Where the heck is Saki?”
“Well,” you try to say, pretending to be oblivious while the heat of Sakura’s mouth trails your mind off into dreamland. “I’ll give it to you straight; she’s not here.”
“Uh huh,” Kazuha breathes, unamused. “Really though, where did she go?” She asks, raising herself up on her tiptoes, slowly migrating closer to the edge of the mattress, noticing the heels hanging out of the edge. “I could’ve sworn she was next to you when I woke up.”
“She was,” you reply, keeping that sly smile from breaking out in the frame of your face. “I don’t know if you checked the bathroom if she’s there, but that’s one place to start looking if you ask me.”
Kazuha pays no attention to your answer, only keeping her eyes fixed on the pair of feet at the edge of the matter, palming an area for what appears to be Sakura’s calf, which makes her stop her controlled bobbing around your cock for a moment, stunned at the sudden press of Kazuha’s hand pulling her head back off of your soaked shaft, gulping because she knows that she got caught.
A look under the sheets, and Kazuha laughs, locking eyes with you while the offering of a sheepish grin is all that you could give her. “Really?” she asks, examining beneath the white layer to only see Sakura laying on her stomach, bare ass between your legs while you eventually call the act off, lifting off the sheets to give Kazuha a better look at Sakura’s head buried between your thighs, hand still well gripped into the threads of her hair. “If you guys are going to start the fun without me, then don’t even bother hiding it.”
“We weren't hiding anything at all,” teases Sakura, dipping her head down your cock again that makes you clench at the feeling of her throat.
“Pretty much seems that way to me.” Kazuha retorts.
“Who was the one who woke up early again?”
“Don’t I have a say in this?” You inquire, combing Sakura’s messy hair down while she moves her wrist around your length to occupy herself, causing you to shudder at the delicate touch. “I mean, Jesus, I guess Saku here couldn’t really help herself to me.”
“She’s the worst.” Kazuha declares, slipping out of your dress shirt, now left with nothing but those lacy black pants she slipped on.
“He worked you over; let me remind you,” Sakura replies, bearing a smug grin when she looks over towards you. “You finished on her back, and before that, you finished on me twice.”
The corner of your eye picks up on Kazuha getting back on the bed, shuffling with her knees as she approaches closer to you. You remember again that she’s relatively well known in your circle of friends, considering the fact that she’s one of the four girls that you’re relatively affiliated with around campus. She’s only a year younger than you, but good friends with Sakura (obviously); and there’s also the duo of Chaewon and Yunjin, the pair of them also crazy in their own rights, respectively.
“Your point being?” The question gets both of their attention, exchanging looks when Kazuha finally reaches to you, guiding your hand to her waist and around her back, Sakura placing neat kisses across your obliques, cock still welded to her hand and stroking gently.
“I guess the golden question should be asked again,” says Sakura, bending her neck down to lightly tap the tip of your cock to her pouty lips. “Where do you think you’ll finish today? On our face? Down our throats? Our backs? Or maybe…”
“Maybe…” Kazuha teases, lifting her hands with yours up to her face, rubbing the pad of your thumb across her bottom lips, lightly sucking on it that’s insanely hypnotic. “Maybe he could finish inside us?”
(Sakura and Kazuha: birds of a feather. You can’t fathom with the fact sometimes that they’ll act like angels, dress like crazy, and only have you around to tug the clothes off of them, as they’re babbling listlessly about how you’ll pin one of them down (or both) on the carpet, make paintings with your tongue all over their bodies; the taste of each more exquisite in every round you take them on, fucking them on any article of furniture within reach. )
Kazuha’s not even remotely close to you. You and her are just surface-level friends at best. Heck, she’s only a mere acquaintance in the swing of things, if you want to read deeper into the personal analysis of each other. The only line of connection you have with her is through Sakura. And from the last outing being a solid first impression for all parties involved, you’d laugh to yourself at times because Kazuha could never have enough of you and Sakura.
“Kazuha, sweetie,” Sakura purrs, pulling her head up with a string of spit still attached to her chin. “You’ve had your fill with him already, literally.” And as she says that, you feel all of the muscles and bones in your body practically melt through the mattress beneath you from the overall presence and weight that these two women have. These two perfect dolls - imagining how their bodies will bend and crumple when you bury your cock inside both of them, shutting one up with the other’s cunt over their mouth. Sakura’s mouth has already made you want to test that edge, and with Kazuha’s?
“I think we should let him decide who to dump his cum into, no?” Sakura suggests soon after pulling Kazuha’s body next to hers, allowing you to admire the live Renaissance painting taking place before you. She then pats Kazuha’s shoulders twice, much like something straight out of practice: Kazuha quick to get on top of your waist while Sakura scooches down to hold your cock tried and true back into her mouth, the pleasure instantaneous as Kazuha’s lips find yours for the first time today.
Kazuha’s arms slither over the bridge of your collarbones, letting you indulge in her perky tits, trying to keep your focus on her while Sakura begins to up the ante again in scarfing up your cock.
“I wanted you all to myself when I woke up first,” Kazuha says, tangling her fingers in your hair, softly moaning when you’re leaving sporadic marks all over her tits, capturing your lips again as you involuntary groan into her mouth, to which she receives it incredibly well. “But you were sleeping so soundly, I decided to leave you be.”
You’re also wondering about the different things you had on your to-do list in your phone. Out of all times, why in the hell were you thinking about that now? You’ve got your personal love interest inhaling your cock by the second, with another friend in your arms who’s willing to be your personal fuckbuddy just for the sake of it.
Kazuha’s features break a bit when you’ve got your lips catered to the stiff buts of her nipples, hands wandering across that toned back of hers, tracing the shoulder blades while the grasp in your fingers starts to crunch at the fine skin.
“I think,” she husks, listening to the occasional gags Sakura’s doing on your cock continuously. “Maybe you’ve been wanting my mouth for a bit too now, huh?”
(Well, yeah. I mean-)
Kazuha quickly takes the hint right out of your mind, mirroring the same pathway of kisses that Sakura did not long ago, the same waves of pleasure mixed in with the return of goosebumps spreading across your body, hands still unsure where they play as they’re suspended in the air, giving way as Sakura slips your cock out of her mouth, twisting at the crown once Kazuha meets in the middle.
The gaze they give you, from the both of them, exchanging glances with each other because these two share a brain cell together - that’s the simple assessment to observe when you’re left speechless.
Thank God you cleared your morning from whatever schedule that was initially planned, because it wouldn’t have led to having these two in your bed wanting all of you.
“Do I still have a say in this?’ You attempt to ask, studying how their eyes are full of infectious lust, the creeping grin spreading across their lips. “To be fair, I think I also need to get some morning stretching in before getting on with the morning.”
“Oh, you’ll get your stretching in.” Sakura muses.
“You won’t be saying anything from this point on,” declares Kazuha.
No point in arguing against the pair; the verdict has already been decided.
Sakura slides her hands up across your chest, laying you back down while Kazuha shuffles down to the original spot where Sakura was occupying, eyes drawn to the peek of Kazuha’s tongue on your cock, switching in between kisses and licks.
A difference between Kazuha and Sakura when it came to blowing you: Sakura knew the different kinds of tricks from experimenting in the past couple months - what worked and what didn’t. Kazuha, on the other hand, was just yearning for the taste of you in her mouth, sealing her lips with the right press, eager to pick up where Sakura left off. It shouldn’t be making you feel like putty, but that’s exactly the case when she bottoms your cock out, clenching her throat that makes you twitch at the hip joints.
Sakura gets a hand around your length, tethering you to one angle, Kazuha dipping down with just her mouth, with every bob up being met with a palm twisting around your shaft. The sounds that rumble from deep within your chest are enough proof that the thin walls surrounding you three won’t be quiet for any longer.
Though your muscles could only stay tense for so long due to the fascinating clench, with Sakura joining back in on the fun that makes you fall slack to the mattress. She’s picking back up with kisses in certain areas of your groin where Kazuha has only glossed over, tongue well working up the seam of your balls, popping on in her mouth while Kazuha’s face is perpendicular, shifting up the side as if she’s playing the flute.
Her brows furrow for a bit when she puts the head of your cock past her pretty lips, hollowing her cheeks for a moment, swirling the tongue right underneath the tip, enough for you to tense up your length in her mouth, and you’re met with wide eyes, feeling the small release of cum onto her tongue. Kazuha then slips you out for a second, licking her lips as you’re putting everything into your body to not bust this early.
“I think he’s had enough of me, Saki. What do you think?” Kazuha observes, “Do you want more of him again?”
“Is that even supposed to be a question? Let me remind you who’s the sluttiest between the two of us.” Sakura grits, voice laced with a firm determination, as her eyes are now filled with fire building deep within the corneas.
You might be fucked here. But hey, that’s all part of the fun with these two. Remember?
Not that it was any sort of competition, so to speak, but with how they synergize together, the movements of their mouths all over their shaft, guiding one’s mouth over your cock, taking turns, whispering these sweet instructions of ‘hold here’ and ‘right there, baby,’ and even ‘god, spit all over his cock, baby. You know he likes it wet,’ it’s impossible for you to stand tall, the assault on your shaft turning into a monumental task from here on out.
Sakura asserts herself over Kazuha, fingers fast around the base, lowering her jaw enough so that the speed of the bobbing can be much quicker, and it is. Judging from how loudly you ground for the both of them to hear, Kazuha’s hands find themselves on the back of Sakura’s head, grabbing handfuls of hair as she guides her down again, making her swallow you. All of you. Until you could feel the vibrations of her hums rattling down your length and into your lower body.
Kazuha whispers into Sakura’s ear, too difficult to hear since the whines drown out the continuous gagging she’s proffering over your cock, putting her at the base for what feels like an eternity. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She’s still holding you down with the tightness of her throat, the urge to put your hand over Kazuha’s, prolonging the unbelievable sensation, and three taps to your hip signal that Kazuha’s had enough.
She pulls her head back up, coughing; these destroyed attempts at sobs breaking through the air. You’re left gasping, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you as they both tend to your soaked cock, looking back up as they move in unison for a moment, then switching off different places around the underside while the moans just keep on coming. Hands are also fast to comb back the light obsidian and honey golden locks, not wanting to ruin their flow when they meet to kiss with your cock caught in between the crossfire.
“You girls are something else,” you husk, ears filled with the sounds of their giggles as they both continue with their makeout session, alternating with mouths and occasionally your cock still in both of their hands. The wet kisses being shared were an absolutely wonderful sight to see, and though you forget that you could also have fun for yourself, taking the liberty to press both of their lovely lips on the sides of your shaft, laughing and moaning up and over the length while you just watch. And you keep watching, feeling the puffed-up chest of yours almost rise to where your chin’s at, sucking your gut inwards as your hips do the familiar motion of raising themselves upwards to the both of them.
“He’s ready for us, hmm?” Sakura asks, wiping a patch of drool away from her chin. “Kazu, you get to ride him first. I’ve got to make sure he’s well rewarded for his patience, okay?”
Kazuha nods, watching as she primes herself, touching her slick folds as Sakura shuffles herself up past your chest, getting her thighs buried into your armpits, her pussy hovering right over your face, not wanting to wait another second as you pull her hips down, moaning into her core as Kazuha teases her walls with the head of your cock just for good measure.
“Don’t, fuck, please." Sakura pleads, taken by shock when your tongue swipes up her pussy lips, taking in the sweetness while making note of how slick she’s gotten for you. The pads of your fingers grip on her legs a bit tighter, her nose shifted up to rub her clit slightly, and she yelps. Kazuha laughs right behind her, sinking her warmth over your shaft, eliciting a moan that gets transferred into Sakura’s leaking hole, licking up the folds when Kazuha finally settles your cock into her.
“Shit!”
Sakura clutches her fingers into your hair, moaning to no avail as you quench that thirst you’ve been searching for this entire morning, and she starts to grind her pussy lips across your face, rolling slowly as your mouth hangs open, letting the sounds of rapture spill out of her mouth with every lick you do to her.
“You’re so good,” Sakura moans out, feeling the latch of your lips onto the nub, flattening out your tongue again across her folds, earning another moan in approval. You smile against her hips when your ears are filled with the endless phrases of cursing that you’ve heard way too often, but it never gets old. Ever. “Why are you so... so fucking good at this?”
So you try to speak, but all that’s said is buried underneath the drain of her pussy, moaning out as a proper response as Kazuha picks up her pace in riding your cock, feeling the clash of her hips with yours, bottoming out your length that makes you lock your knees to ensure that the lower half of your body is stable enough for her frame.
Kazuha increases the chances, setting her legs up in a squatting position, keeping herself upright with just her hands on your waist, letting her face onto Sakura’s sweaty back. She lets herself float over you for a minute, taking the chance to catch her breath while you begin to piston her pussy, thrusting upwards. You’re met with a low groan spilled out of Kazuha’s lips in response to your action, only to be drowned out when she lowers her hips to meet with yours, the primal slaps filling up the room and bouncing around the walls.
The inevitability of cumming a full-fledged broken dam into Kazuha’s cunt was a thought filling your mind, but you try to not think too much about it; Sakura’s pussy was still a thing to deal with, maintaining your pace with every lick you do to her clit.
Effort was everything; that was something to keep in mind when it comes to fucking Sakura. She loves it when you get so into it just like her, because you too can’t get enough of ruining this perfect girl every chance you get. Kazuha was also on the same boat, and by how your thighs continue to shake at the weight of her hips coming down on you again and again, it’s impossible to ignore how good she is too - keep it coming, Sakura’s telling you, in the lovely sounds filling up your ears coming from her and Kauhza. You’re fucking me so good, baby. I love it when your cock throbs inside me. Please give it to me. I know you want to.
Kazuha knows you’re close, and Sakura’s not far off in the lost rails of rhythm. Her pussy is flooding on your face, the please becoming more erratic and desparte.
“God, I’m going - I'm going.”
The words coming out of you are buried underneath Sakura’s thighs.
"Fuck, I can’t with your fucking-ah!”
Kazuha does one drive back down your length, and then one more for good measure. Sakura’s hips tremble over your face, quivering and hips trembling as you drag her pussy right across your tongue. Your arms latch somewhere above Sakura’s ass, matching her clutches with the digits buried in your locks, a fire lit under your chest as Kazuha’s cunt grips you like a knot - the heat from their bodies and yours submerging you as if you were in lava. Kazuha bucks forward, face hitting Sakura’s back, holding herself up with her hands as the pounds from thrusting upwards become increasingly unstable, her ravine of a pussy getting you closer and closer to that edge while you can’t even think straight.
A swipe up the tongue on Sakura’s folds. Then three more, nibbling on her clitoral area as her thighs start to press inward from both sides of your head. She keeps grinding, dragging her swollen lips across the ridges of your face, mewling with a hand on the headboard, giggling as she mirrors the movements from grinding on your cock earlier.
Kazuha slams her hips down, and not in a nice fashion since, well, fuck, legitimately, her cunt seizes your cock, smearing her sweet juices all over the rough bits, a vein that’s concealed with her walls, keening when she feels the swollen head shoved up inside her twitch that really makes her feel like mash. Her nails are ripping apart the skin on your stomach, searching for a hold to grab on to. It’s all futile when your body’s elevated to a temperature where there’s glistening sweat all over - her hands slip off and land on the cushions, priming the angle where you’ve hit before, fucking her deeper. She hisses when your balls lightly tap the pucker of her ass, just a bit, but that turns her on so much more.
“This cunt,” you mumble out, mouth still full of Sakura’s pussy, “Kazu, I can’t, babe. Your pussy is unreal.”
“Okay,” Sakura flatly says, “fuck.” And Kazuha just laughs, fluttering her eyes shut when you’ve latched onto the lower part of her thighs. “Keep working on him, Zu. You know he loves your pussy that much, right?”
“Yes, yes, yes, God.”
“Cum inside her.” Sakura instructs, and it’s a bid that you had no second thought of doing. “How nice of her to be your little personal fuckdoll, hm? To just handle her in ways that you want her to, nice and sticky and all fucked out, because you know she’ll come back for more, baby.”
The next move she does is so calculated, you can’t even tell or determine if she did it on the fly: placing Kazuha’s chin on the small divot in her collarbone, the image of her closed eyes, the frizzes in her wavy hair slightly covering part of her face, shaken because of how your hips drive upwards into her. And Sakura just does the simple motion of putting her palm on the side of her face, parting her mouth open while you can only watch with your eyes since the lower half of your face is still attached to Sakura’s pussy.
“Saku,” a frail call in the last seconds, “She feels so good.”
“Fuck your cum into her, baby,” Sakura growls again, clawing the sides of your head as she ruts her hips deeper into your mouth. “That’s the only thing that matters. Until she’s full with the fucking thickness of it.”
You managed to fuck Kazuha through her climax a minute or two ago, and now she’s repaying you by fiddling through yours.
It’s an unraveling feeling when you push past that brink, filling up her tiny cunt with cum, molding her fuckhole to every detail of your member. And she’s mouthing, Sakura’s expression filled with glee, saying, Aw baby, god, yes, would you look at her? She loves it when you fuck a nice load into her, fresh and hot, and-
“Christ,” you grit out, hoarsely, letting the pulses channel out of your body, Dick still grinding the deepest parts of her stomach, cum splattering every spot to be left untouched inside. The throbs are still happening, but with every hold you have, your cock starts to die out in the heat of her hips.
The senses are all over the place when Kazuha slips her pussy off of your cum-soaked cock, Sakura’s hips now hovering above your face, shifting off when you still see the constellations flash in your eyes, vision blurring and deblurring to the image of Kazuha paying no attention to Sakura’s state, sloppily placing her lips with hers again, rough.
These two kiss like friends, maybe friends who have had a little bit too much to drink in order for them to act like this. They’ve done this with Yunjin and Chaewon for sure, based on the stories that you’ve heard. With or without the alcohol, they both show this kind of affection because it's natural, watching as Sakuraa’s hands find Kazuha’s head, Kazuha slithering her arms behind Sakura’s back, letting the passion take over both of their bodies. They both take the time to indulge in each other's features: hands wandering, mouths on nipples, gripping necks and pulling waists closer, Sakura teasing Kazuha’s well-worked cunt, a fingertip soaked with a bit of your cum, licking it cleanly off her fingers.
And the hums. The fucking hums that these two are spilling out. You’re basically drooling when they pick up where they left off with the kissing, paying no attention to you as your hand starts to slowly slide over your cock, palming it before your fingers start to wrap around the length one by one. You’re equally fucked just like them, but there’s no problem with that.
Both of them take as much time as they needed - tender lips and tongues canvassing every part of their exposed bodies, eyes recording every second of this account - in hopes that you can play this back in your mind as Kazuha smiles with full delight to match your expression, drinking in the sight of the show presented right on your lap.
“I think Saku’s ready for you,” Kazuha hushes, lightly dragging her fingertips across the taut line of Sakura’s abs, resting on the underside of her breast, like a showoman who is trying to entice like she’s selling the latest model of a car. Her hand then goes down to Sakura’s clitoral area, rubbing it in circles when the mountains of pillows and sheets are unearthed from the mattress, ruffling and crumpling with the movements of their legs and feet, being pulled by your hand to the edge of the bed. “She made a mess all over your face, didn’t she? Now you’ve got to pay her back.”
You’ve gotten out of bed in a heartbeat multiple times before. One morning was because you were late to class; the other time was to follow the view of Sakura’s bare ass tiptoeing into the kitchen for another meal before starting the day - and here you were, with a rearranged order in what probably feels like slow motion but one constant movement throughout, hand never leaving the meat and bone of Sakura’s ankle, assisting Kazuha by reeling Sakura, who’s shying away, but this is exactly what she wants.
“Our little baby of a whore is deprived of a thick cock filling up her guts,” Kazuha sighs, expression a bit fatigued with the way she’s still coming down from her high. “So do you think you can do me a favor? Stuff up her cunt nice and tuck first, then ruin her after. How does that sound?”
You try to answer, at least, taken aback when Kazuha’s got her long fingers along the line of your hardening shaft and Sakura’s spreading her legs wider and wider. She’s holding you close. Closer. Aiming - tried and practiced - towards the heat of Sakura’s. It’s a hook, line, and sinker when the head of your cockparts her walls, slippery and still leaking, feeling every nerve ending in her hips trickle a thousand volts inside.
“Make her beg for it. I think you’ll be able to fuck her filthy with how she’s wanting to cum for you.” Kazuha’s tone drops down low, almost agitated. “This is payback for what she did to me last time, so I’ll let you be the judge.”
And when the opportunity presents itself for you to determine that said call, it’s never a clear answer from the start if you’re willing to be honest with yourself. The one of many tricks Sakura has on her exposed sleeve, enchanting you with a heavy desire - the kind of want that could never be fully fulfilled. And, even in the days where it does feel like that, it doesn’t even come close to satisfying you.
When you lock eyes with her, wide open to match with her parted mouth, bottoming her all the way with your cock tapping to that spot that has her keening, holding back her sigh as your groin meets the underside of her thighs.
“Feel good, baby?” You ask Sakura, relieved at how she’s come to grips around your shaft burying inside her, head tilting back, clutching on to Kazuha’s forearm as your fingers find their place along her thighs. “Hm,” you assess soon after, inching your cock past the halfway point, “sure looks like it does.”
Sakura’s mouth wobbles, gasping, her eyes draw shut, and her face flushes pink. She takes in your cock so well, the slipping slick of her thighs sounding off this noise of pure squelching; her whole upper body moves up in reaction; stomach bucking, chest puffing up to the open air, pushing in the deep area that has you speechless.
The bottom palm of her hand grazes your groin, adjusting to how your cock molds around her cunt, hands shifting to the underside of the knees, using the rising octaves in her moans to indicate that she’s receptive and expressive in approval. Amidst the growing chaos the lower half of your body is going through, Kazuha takes liberty in massaging Sakura’s breasts, rubbing her stomach as it bloats from the air being exhaled in whines and expletives.
“Ugh, fuck, you." She’s blabbering at this point.
And there’s you, finding your rhythm, your groove, enjoying the way her soft skin maps out across your rough and grainy fingers, how it sinks in so smoothly - much closer to melting, it seems - something of that degree.
“-mhm,” and there’s the “can’t baby, ah, ngh-” with more of, “-dick feels so good.” It’ll fall between the cracks, piercing deep, pulling out and sliding it across her folds just to play as a tease, because she deserves it without any reason, penetrating back in to pick up right where you left off.
Sakura’s body is that one journey that you can never get tired of looking at. How her thighs are just immaculately perfect, that waist offering up those sets of abs on a pedestal, the way her tits rebound on the upstroke when you’ve got past the spot of bottoming her out - where your cockhead grips at the soft spot where it’s been at multiple times, squeezing and swallowing and resting where it should belong in every case with her.
Kazuha shifts her body from the side of Sakura, getting lower to rest her head right above her waist, a trail of kisses circling over her stomach and belly button, getting caught in the throes of pleasure when you realize that Sakura’s got two fingers inside Kazuha, helping her treat herself and assisting the self-induced action.
“God, Saki, look at him all fucked out in your pussy, huh?” Kazuha bites down in an area on her waist just above her cunt, nose brushing down lower to her clit, hand curling around to the bottom of her inner thighs, keeping it out of your way. “She wraps you so well, doesn’t she? Finally getting fucked again after last night?”
“Don’t you know it,” you answer, and there’s no other need to spiel something that’s already been known; Sakura can make you shut the fuck up with her mouth, her cunt, and the way that she talks pure sex. You love how she’s nothing more than mush and warmth. A fine tapestry that’s meant to stay untouched, but you’ll tear all the edges down where the seams have already been shredded.
You get thrown off when Sakura’s pussycle clenches at the hilt, where the contraction captures the air bubbling in your lungs, turning the legs into jelly, and the bobble forward into her lying body on the mattress only punctuates without saying a word. Kazuha laughs at the sudden change in weight on her head, causing you to stand back up with your knees to the bed holding you up, drawing away as Kazuha gazes at your silken cock, soaked with Sakura, lightly teasing when you’re pushing the tip in and out for good measure.
Kazuha rises from her bent state, lazily putting her lips on yours as the pace slows a bit in the lower half of you - darting your cock in with one firm stroke. Hard. The strokes themselves are now more impactful, and ripping, the snap is becoming more assertive. “Fuck, sir, fucking,” Sakura cries out, the coil of her cunt tying you in. Kazuha sets herself back to where she was, resting her cheek on her waist as every entry with your cock, body bouncing on the soaked sheets from all the sweat and leaking slick coming out.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, ah.”
Sakura’s hands hold at her thighs, gyrating upwards at every point where your cock buries at the deepest depth, swelling at the unimaginable clench to where she mewls, wailing but cute at how she’s tuckered out.
“Goodness gracious,’ You spit out, in a half-sob, the moans and utterances and simple replies to Kazuha’s endless mumbling, repeating in one same fashion or the other. “You’re so-so fucking wet, and for what? God-”
“Look at what you did to her,” Kazuha tuts, biting on the inside of her thigh, and Sakura basically yelps. A mix of pain and pleasure, the best of both worlds. You tug yourself out of her cunt, slapping the swollen cockhead on the nub of her clit, sighing at the way she shudders. “Do you think she deserves to finally let go?’
The responses that pass through your lips are just staggered breaths, tumbling down as the slaps start to line up with your heartbeat. A fine point in pace, your internal metronome that only leads to the dwindling doom of your thick cock thrusting Sakura’s tight pussy.
“Love it,” Sakura mutters, head fallen to the provided pillow courtesy of Kazuha; she’s sobbing. “Love your cock, so fucking much.”
“Mhm honey,” and the pet names in themselves are just the ad-libs thrown into the mix, with the right touch of pheromones and increase of dopamine being shot up to the brain. “Get it in there nice and deep; I want her to own it, feel it, because this cock is all hers.”
“-god.”
The riled-up exhale comes in reflection of the ecstasy, every bit of praise coming from Kazuha’s lips playing hand-in-hand with Sakura’s moans filling your ears.
“Think you can hold out a bit longer, Saki? Kazuha croons, head turned the opposite way as she admires the sucked-out gaze Sakura wears on her face, meeting your eyes again. “I’m doing you a favor since he fucked my brains out last time, so be thankful. You greedy bitch.”
“Shut your fucking-ugh.”
“Don’t even think about keeping it in,” Kazuha doubles down, dragging her nails across Sakura’s inner thigh, forcing her legs wide open once more, almost as if she’s doing the splits across the length of the mattress. “He’s so perfect for you, hitting all of the right spots and all the right places? In that creaming pussy of yours? How his fucking fat cock splits you up into oblivion? Come on now, just-”
“My fucking god,” you blurt out, in complete shock at the words that were spilling out of Kazuha’s mouth like emptying an open bucket full of water. “You are a piece of work.”
Kazuha just laughs, taking the compliment to heart, with some mischief still showing with her closed eyelids. Sakura whines, going silent, shaking as your fingers bruise the same spots where the grip on her waist was first.
The lust starts to boil to a point where nothing else is given a second though, and it’s been that way for a while now, fueled with a hunger that could replace the morning cup of coffee with ease, watching as your cock vanishes into Sakura’s pussy, the moans hitting similar notes that are now just echoes of the night prior.
“Ah, uh, almost there." Sakura, once forward in her advances, now reduced to simple begs and pleads, the gaze half-lidded, back arching off the rumples in the sheets. She’s so fucking wet for you, and that’s another mental note that’s circling back in your head for probably the tenth time this morning so far, and might worth mentioning that it’s still in the fucking morning.
“Oh? Make her do it, babe.” Kazuha orders the go-ahead, a hand - well, actually, both hands full of Sakura’s breasts, claiming it as hers. “I think she’s willing to be killed while being split open.”
You’re paying zero attention to the words - grunting and passing air - as the piledriving only seems to be the sole constant that your mind and body seem to be focusing on.
It’s a bit disorienting how your vision blacks out before coming back with color, the mind playing tricks as if you were getting your head dunked underwater and pulled back up, gasping for air. The thrusting never stops, with every fiber in your body, pooling it into fucking Sakura’s open cunt in the best way possible. Her hips are past the breaking point, grinding up against yours. She’s wailing, towards hyperventilation, eyes rolling upward to the back of her head, mouthing, close. You can easily tell, I’m so fucking close for you. Keep ramming your dick into me.
“Saki,” now you’re saying the other nickname, and Kazuha grins, finally having her moment. “Fuck, baby-”
Sakura looks away as Kazuha looks up, chin lightly tapping your hips - the devilish smile she possesses - it’s a rare occurrence, but that look could haunt you in your dreams: “Use her pussy, fuck everything up inside of her, I don’t care. Get her creaming all over you. I want to hear her screaming.”
And Sakura fucking screeches. The better sound to wake up to rather than the annoying alarms on your phone.
She holds still, every part of her body tensing - knees locking, toes curling, back arching and unarching - as Kazuha holds her down. The noises she’s making are loud enough to slip through the thin walls, and you can guess another complaint from the neighbors would be on the cards. Kazuha takes liberty into treating a barrage of kisses across Sakura’s body, you trying to drag your cock a little bit in, barely managing to drag yourself out. A brief effect from the aftershocks: her midsection freezing as the clamp around your cock starts to subside.
Sakura whimpers with closed lips, shuddering when you finally slide out of her properly-fucked cunt, leaning down to kiss and kiss and kiss, dick taking the fresh, cold air as it rests along the bottom portion of her waist. Your hands get on her neck, helping her up with the arch in her back, hot and slicked and sweaty. Kazuha gives you two some space, playing as the makeshift crane to pull Sakura away from the clutches of your hands and lips, face racked in disappointment when Kazuha looks at you, smiling, tending to the mess that’s reforming in her arms.
Kazuha then moves across the bed with her knees, a change in guard from Sakura to her when her body crashes into yours, the press of her lips good enough for you to fall on your back as the arms and chest eventually come into their own, molding with the canvas of your skin to mesh. She’s literally perfect for you - the way she wants more of you - in the taste of your lips, how your fingers explore every area of the framework that’s tensing and relaxing, reaching for spots that get her riled up in every way imaginable.
You kiss and lick and grab wherever you can. A hand palming the firm skin of her ass, soft and plump. The hickeys and other various bite marks are an earned badge of honor for Kazuha to be proud of, her nails digging into the skin where your shoulders are as the grip on her ass-cheeks starts to become more and more possessive, slapping it as her forehead accidentally clatters yours.
“Such a klutz,” she assesses, landing a loose kiss on the bottom of your chin. “Still able to think straight after fucking Saki relentlessly?”
“What do you think?” You rebuke, dazed, as Kazuha gets a finger on a strand of your hair at the front, mimicking her messy bedhead bangs.
“I mean,” she slips her tongue across your bottom lip, biting along the patch of few hairs, pulling her head back when she notices that your hands have never left the curve of her ass. “I think you’ve got more to offer, and here’s a bonus: there’s one hole that you haven’t filled yet.”
It’s the most simple movement she could do, with any intent that she wanted to fabricate behind it. She turns around, swaying her ass from the left side as she’s on her hands and knees on the bed, stretching as far as she could possibly get them to reach. The arch starts to form along the fine lines of muscle displayed on her back, arms out straight as her legs find a proper foothold, spreading themselves for you to fill in the space.
Your hands have never been quick to get themselves on something that you want, and this was the only exception; it’s appalling how easy the soft skin wraps around the underside of your fingers, picturing the look on her hidden face where you can only see the back of her head: in her lidded eyes, the swollen lip being captured between her teeth, the mumbling of insistence when all you’re just doing is feeling her out, resting your dick above her unfathomable cheeks, grazing the underside in the small divot at the middle, pressing them closer together, her hips reeling back and into your thighs, the listless moan spilling out of your mouth when the friction tightens at the belly of your cock.
In fact, that’s the only thing you keep your focus on, not paying any sort of attention to Sakura when she shuffles out from beneath Kazuha’s lowered and bent body, doing this sort of army crawl to the nightstand for a certain thing. You’ve seen the arsenal that she has in that drawer, and some of the items were actually put to use in the last outing with Sakura and Kazuha. The instinctual thing that you do also is lean over to Kazuha’s backside and get one side of your face nestled into her as your hands wrap their way around her stomach, holding her close.
Not much is said aside from the shaky exhales and whines, filled in with the occasional smacks of your lips across skin. Until-
“My turn to watch,” announces Sakura, a slim bottle in her hand, wrapped with those long, dainty fingers of hers.
You blink once, and she’s on the edge where the nightstand is. You blink again, and she’s already made her way back to you, cap opened with the noise similar to an obvious crack of a stick, like breaking the silence in a quiet forest.
Sakura’s hands become slick, as if her hand were made of the smooth liquid itself. The grip she has on you is breathlessly attractive: palm sliding across the length, strategizing the strokes at every curve and pull while she’s kissing you.
“Do you have any idea how long she’s been wanting this?” Sakura questions, implicating you as she slaps your cock along Kazuha’s ass. “You’ve told me before: she’s made for you.”
Utterly speechless is what you are, but maybe you should say something to-
“Gotta fuck her sensless,” Sakura suggests, head perpendicular to yours while the cock in her hands starts to graze the surface of her ass, nudging the opening by just a teeny bit, a small preview of what’s to unfold. “That’s what she wants. What she needs. Isn’t that right, Zuha?”
“Mhm.” Kazuha hums in agreement, a throaty moan to follow after Sakura gets both hands full of her ass, spreading her open. “All of it,” Kazuha murmurs, chest pulled inwards when you start to descend; the more you fall, the more faster the air expels out of her chest, with a shout thrown in - a last resort call of your name: “fuck, I, hngh, god.”
You hold for a moment, pussy leaking by the second as she’s taking you fully, expanding to compensate for the girth. An enchanted feeling washes over your body, grabbing to whatever you can of Kazuha’s ass - holding, a still in this moment of time - and this was the only grace period you’ve given her much more than yourself, head falling back because her hips do this movement in your hands, and
“For fuck’s sake,” you spit, because the suffocating tightness and heat surrounding your cock is one to be unbearable. The pins and needles of pleasure prick all over your nerves as the fine weight of Kazuha’s ass takes you in and out, until you’ve retreated from the impending chamber, pausing as your cock twitches.
Then you drop the pin inside her, all the way.
“Fuck!” Kazuha gasps, sewing her eyes shut. Her hands start to grip the sheets.
There isn’t much time after for her to get used to this, as you start to drive into her more, fucking out every cry that you could suck out of her lips. Her ass does this little ripple effect with every slam, making her feel the thickness where it hurts, hugging your cock in all directions. It’s a gradual push from here on out, building your sense of rhythm again, just like how she was riding you earlier.
“Finally,” Sakura breathes, kissing Kazuha’s ass cheek, getting her fingers buried on the curve, kneading, showing, and biting.
The thrusts keep coming. One stroke and the next. Each one after is harder than the last. Your eyes are locked onto Sakura’s side profile, watching your cock disappear in the valley of Kazuha’s ass with every passing movement. Kazuha herself looks over her shoulder, a hand out reaching for something, maybe her thigh, hoping to spread herself even wider so that it’ll be easier for you to stretch her tight hole out. You could feel that she wants more, throwing her ass back to match her strokes with yours, the slaps becoming louder and louder, similar to the moans.
“So fucking tight,” you grit, your vision loosing sharpness at the top layers. Sakura’s smiling into Kazuha’s sweaty skin. “Like, nobody else could have this but me. Shit-”
“It’s not every day that you’re gaping a pretty girl’s ass.” Sakura says it excitedly, her head rocking along with the movement of Kazuha’s body in every slam. “Fucking her hole and opening up just for you. God, Kazu, can you believe this? He’s taking you so fucking well; I love the way he just fucks you, like that’s the only thing he’s meant to do. Just drop your pants whenever, and he’ll just take you right then and there- get you craving - over and over and over again, and it could be everything, if you just let him.”
Kazuha claws deeper into the bedsheets, nearly tearing the fabric, Sakura’s face on Kazuha’s ass-cheek, closing her eyes to feel the motion more.
Every inch of her body is washed with bliss, curdling in the layers beneath the skin, a form of want that could only, truly, be achieved by you.
“Baby,” Sakura’s calling out to you this time, face flustered when you realize that she’s got a hand magnetized to the heat between her legs; fingers in its own cyclone, a paradigm of its own when she’s screwing in two, no-three digits inside her cunt, parting her folds in an identical fashion the way that your cock rips open Kazuha’s ass and fucking the lights out of her since that’s the primary reason why she’s connected to you, and Sakura even sit back and watch this unfold in front of her eyes, bear witness to you fucking her friend with every matching heartbeat to the claps, “She could be a heartbreaker for you, and you could fuck her ego until she finally knows her place, like the motherfucking slut that she is.”
There’s no sense of control left in your bones anymore. All you just do is let Sakura’s words fill your ears as your fingers dig deeper into the firm cheeks of Kazuha, the warm embrace of oil trickling down the plugged-up, puckered ass as your cock picks up the dripping remnants.
“I-” is what you make of a poor attempt from Kazuha, the vowel replaced with a flat-out gasp, since the irreplaceable feeling of power goes a little bit over the top of your head, a firm thrust to send the message instead as the fucked-out girl at the front of your thighs tumbles out a voice that’s wheezing and whining in croaks. “Fuck. Yes, fuck, fuck, babe.”
Sakura doesn’t really say many words to you soon after, just mouthing yours, yours. She’s so yours. And even if you could describe the surreal feeling of bending a beautiful girl over across the canvas of your mattress and sheets, there’d probably be nothing else left to say from you. She’s just urging you to keep on trucking Kazuha’s ass, demanding that you’d fuck her until the wheelchair sitting in the dark corner of your closet proved to be a viable solution for her poor legs - when there’s all but that satiated with the proper fucking you’ve delivered.
“Aw, you like it when she’s all fucked out for you, huh?” Sakura keeps on talking, smiling her heart away, paying no attention to the obscene sounds that Kazuha keeps letting out. You try to come up with a response to Sakura, but you’re lost at the letters caught in the back of your tongue, watching as Kazuha’s beautiful ass envelops all of your cock, balls lightly tapping her cunt when you’ve got it down to the hilt. The moans hit a hitch at the throat, only for it to be drowned out with the unrelenting thrusts into her tight ass and flushing your thighs with hers.
A snap from one slow hit. Then another. You keep fucking in, one hand alternating between from the rounded end of Kazuha’s waist to her ass-cheek and the other buried into the messy locks of Sakura’s, holding her head in place as the grip around your cock burns across the surface, not failling to keep the pace consistent as it increases the more Kazuha’s walls smother your cock with ease.
“-perfect,” Kazuha manages to say, the syllables tumbling on top of each other as her whines do this staccato format the more your thrusts chop up the sound. You’re driving your hips so up to the frontside that the ripples start to catch Sakura’s cheek, who’s still laughing when she hears Kazuha try to speak, fucked at the cock stabbing inside her for all that it’s worth. “Stretching me so good, baby, you’ve got it, yes, right there,” and that’s when you see her head fall to the pillow, screaming with all her might when you’ve brought her to the point which-
“Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” Sakura scowls, fist full of Kazuha’s hair, forcing her up. The arch in her back is deeper than before, giving you a little more space for you to take inside her ass, inching deeper. This wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for the wetness and pulsing throbs your cock emits when you bury yourself in, holding as the grip from her tight ass is something straight out of a mythical creation. “I want him to hear you. Use you. Lower your head again, and I swear to fuck-“
This happens on impulse, or maybe this was the one thought sitting in the back of your mind that couldn’t rest there any longer, pulling your cock out of Kazuha’s ass, finger, and thumb quickly to be wrapped around the base. You’ve got Sakura’s head in your hand still, dragging her across the dune of Kazuha’s cheek, closer to the head of your cock, and she takes the hint fully, lowering her jaw until her teeth pass the head, enveloping you, eyes fluttering shut, and humming out of surprise.
“You talk too much,” you’re saying to Sakura, mouthful of your cock, tongue slipping and pulling with her head in the ways that she knows you’ve ascended from before. “I thought I had you up on the ropes earlier; guess I didn’t do much, but we can fix that later.” It’s incredibly difficult for you to not lose your insanity, transitioning from Kazuha’s tight ass and into the addicting heat of Sakura’s mouth, taking you past the halfway mark, head dipping past her soft palette and into the hollow of her throat, cheeks puffing and coughing up spit to soak the areas already covered from the wetness in Kazuha’s ass. “Fucking-”
Sakura’s sharp inhale for air sends you in check, as her welled-up eyes watch your cock sink back into Kazuha’s ass, face crinkling when the tightness is a little hard to break into before you’re sliding back in and out with ease.
So it just flows the way it goes. A turn-taking kind of structure you’ve established. You thrust inside Kazuha’s tight ass for a few strokes, pull yourself out, and nestle your cock into those pretty lips of Sakura’s. The pair of them humming in approval and giggling under their breaths as you take the fun for yourself, using one hole after the other. Kazuha’s face is riddled with sweat, the hot pink shade running across her cheeks. Sakura’s is also the same, welled-up tears as she holds herself down the hard line of your cock.
These sluts. Your sluts. Many would’ve wished to be in your shoes. But you’re the lucky pick among the both of them.
“My good girls,” you mumble, groaning as you up the takes in one tight ass and one pretty fucking mouth. “Could die like this every day, using you two like this. A fucking dream.”
Sakura guides you back into the rim of Kazuha’s ass, hand posing as the makeshift pipe when your cockhead nudges back into her, groaning like crazy to the added pressure of her fingers and palm. Your body twinges a bit, gradually building up the slaps with every follow-through more quickly than the previous hit.
“My, fuck- holy fuck-”
“What’s the matter?” Sakura’s fast to assess the condition as Kazuha’s moans start to bounce around in every wall and corner in the room, watching as you keep fucking yourself into Kazuha and her ass, “Too much to handle? Oh god, you’re about to bust, aren’t you? Kazuha look, he’s going to cum again soon for you, baby.”
You could probably hear the sirens calling within your head. Kazuha’s hips are moving on their own and not in line with yours. Tensing, tensing, then relaxing, and it flip-flops. You can see in the muscles and how they sort of cramp up per se, how her moans are a lot more vocal as to earlier, when you feel down her cunt and be surprised how she’s oozing in your fingers, her ass clenching around your cock, clinging.
And the brain overload to not blow it makes you pull out, flicking your cock up in the air as you watch the arch in Kazuha’s back deepen. Sakura’s got a palm full of the oil, slathering it nicely - hand coiling you where it feels right.
“One more push,” Sakura pleads, resting her head down the midline of Kazuha’s back, both hands on her ass, spreading her open for you, “please, just for us.”
So.
You do as Sakura says, pressing your cockhead back into the soft coil of muscle, Kazuha’s body greatly accepting you - grabbing and stretching and inviting all of you. She’s buried her head back into the cushion, muffling the pained whines, pulling to the right so that the breathing is a bit easier to tolerate, and the rush soon after is a spell of your own.
Sakura’s hands hold firm on the plush of her ass, pulling outward and pressing inward when you’ve sheathed yourself, the vice ten times tighter than what it already is. Kazuha’s ass clutches around the head of your cock, and with every pound that you dish out to her, the more audible the clashes of skin are. Your upper body is starting to buck forward, the lower half losing composure in the routine that it built for itself, Kazuha’s mouth is parted open just like Sakura's - mouthing - keep going, yes, fuck my ass, just like that, god, your cock, just need you to-
“Babes, I’m going-”
That’s really all you say when you’re revealing your cock away from her ass, cumming all over her uncontrollably.
Shots of white are painted over porcelain. Spent, slick, and messy porcelain. You’re trying to readjust the grip around your cock, pointing your tip inside the open hole of Kazuha, shooting a measly two or three spurts, hips trembling as she gets help from Sakura to hold her ass open for you.
Sakura, unfortunately, gets caught in the crossfire. Earring a few scattered streams of your release all over her face, some in her mouth, and plenty into her hair.
“Mmmm,” breathes Sakura, tongue running across both upper and lower profiles of her lips, hooking the taste of you on her buds. Kazuha still has her face down, buried in the sheets, ass up, as she could legitimately not move a single muscle in her body after being wrecked for god knows how long. She’s softly sobbing into the pillowcase; bruises spread out across her skin, visible red prints highlighted on her cheeks, but she’s managed to calm down. The breathing is starting to stabilize. “Look at that: two loads from you this morning. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Should’ve came inside my ass.” Kazuha suggests, finally letting her frame fall to the side as you and Sakura both observe the obvious drip of cum oozing out of her. “This doesn’t technically count, but I want a do-over.”
You and Sakura both exchange this look with a singular eyebrow, a dragged-out grin soon to follow. “Such a slut for you.” Sakura observes.
“That isn’t really new news to anyone.”
-
Some hours later, things get slow. It’s the weekend, or the weekday? You’re too lost to put that setting back in your head, primarily because:
“Can you guys keep it down?” Sakura asks loudly, not willing to turn her head around away from the TV when you bend your knees a bit and slip inside Kazuha’s cunt against the kitchen counter, hiking up one of your borrowed shirts you gave her to reveal the handprint still apparent on her ass. “I can’t watch the movie if I hear two horny rabbits getting it on behind me.”
“Fuck you,” Kazuha rasps, mewling when you’ve buried yourself deep to the cornerstone of your cock. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have said no to getting some seconds.” She’s dipping her head down, hiding her face in the wavy locks of her hair, but you can tell her lips are parted when you’ve got a hand to her neck, pulling to flush her backside with your front. “God, yes-”
“Don’t expect an apology from me,” you’re calling out to Sakura, who took it upon herself to finally twist and see you staring, the pumps inside Kazuha relaxed, and its own thing happening. And Kazuha’s not even moaning yet. “You only have to blame yourself for bringing a physical version of Aphrodite to the place.“
Sakura rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the television. “That’s her little secret. I guess. And it’s not my fault that you fall for it every time.”
The thing is, there isn’t really a secret to be said amongst the three of you. You’ve mapped them out to their little glances - the one quirk that gets them both going for something to follow. Dumb it down to a simple phone call or maybe a cantation laced in the words they whisper into your ear. Sakura’s right: you will fall for it.
Every. Single. Time.
#le sserafim smut#kpop smut#male reader smut#sakura smut#kazuha smut#le sserafim sakura#le sserafim kazuha#kpop x male reader
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“You should get off my lap.”
Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Reader
Summary: You’re one of the triplets childhood best friends. One night you call Matt tipsy to pick you up from a party.
Warnings: Mention of alcohol, kissing, dry humping, C*m in underwear.
A/n: I wasn’t gonna post this but I wrote it so might as well! I hope you like it.
You sloppy walked into Matt’s room one hand on his wall sliding it off to plop onto his bed. Matt sighed walking in behind you and closing his door, his hands flying up to his face. “Oh my gosh y/n…You’re to much.” He mumbled walking to his bed and sitting down with his back on his headboread. You swayed back and forth then pouted “Sorry Matt.” You whined looking at him. Matt was ready for bed when you had called him to pick you up. He didn't wanna get up, but he'd never let you drive intoxicated.
He nodded with a exhale but smiled. “It's fine..Are you tired yet? Wanna go to sleep?” You nodded slowly and examined Matt as he laid on his bed. You noticed how his hair is fluffy from laying around. How his tattoo scattered arms looked more toned then usual. How his hands looked softer than expected, soft enough for you to wanna reach out and hold them. The way his sweatpants fit him perfectly. “Okay? You should lay down if your tired then” He spoke patting the bed next to him slightly. You didn’t reply just looking at him your eyebrows drawing together as your head tilted. “Y/n! What are you staring at?” He questioned. You blinked then starting laughing yourself. “Sorry Matt. You look hotter usually tonight.” Matt chuckled rolling his eyes. “Really? I think your saying that cause you where drinking.” You shock your head “No it's not that cause you always look hot, you just look hotter tonight. Well, Mabye it is that actually.” You giggled quickly and turned to face him. You thought for a moment before pull yourself more onto the bed then without warning straddled his lap .
He gasped his hand flying up as he looked around and then at you. “O-oh y/n.. I don’t know..” He mumbled a smile forming on your face as you noticed his cheeks slowly turning more pink. “You don’t know what? Is this not okay? I’ll get off.” “I don’t know..I mean I was just talking..it’s okay. So um are you ready to sleep?” He spoke then cleared his throat. You shrugged. “I’ll sleep if you’re ready to sleep.” “i-I am. Yeah..” He stayed quiet after speaking bringing his hands together and playing with his thumbs. You honestly don’t know why you even got on his lap, he just looks hot and your tipsy and wanted to mess with him. He always get flustered and nervous anytime you flirt with him or do things to him like this as a joke. “Y/n I think you should get off my lap.” He murmured looking up at you. “Huh? Why?” You pouted pushing a hair behind your ear instinctively pushing your hips back, your breath hitching when rubbed against what felt like a lump.
His hand quickly rushed to you hips holding you in place. “Don’t move too much y/n.” He spoke staring into your eyes. You blinked and tilted your head you couldn’t help pushing your hips back once to see what he was so scared about, rubbing against the lump once more. His legs bent squeezing your hips. “Y/n! Come on.” He pleaded. “Please don’t move.” it didn’t take you long to realize the lump was him getting hard, your eyes widened with a big smile. “Oh You’re getting hard aren’t you!” You spoke pointing a accusing finger into his chest. “No! Ew don’t say that! ” He exclaimed swallowing and looking down avoiding your eyes. You moved your hips back again earning a nervous mewl from him as he tried to hold your hips tighter in place. “Oh my gosh, Matt you’re hard!” You gushed. Matt panicked knowing it was too late to hide now finally looking up at you his eyes wide. “Y/n please don’t ever speak of this! I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it! Please don’t tell my brothers.” He whined.
You laughed at his pleas covering your mouth. Matt couldn’t help but smile faintly at your laughing. “Y/n seriously! It’s not funny. This is embarrassing!” “Matt, Matt, calm down it’s okay.” You spoke with a smile patting his chest. He sighed and looked at you. “Really? But I got hard from you just sitting on my lap..” He replied in a whine. “Yeah, I don’t care. I’m just glad I got to make a hot guy hard tonight.” He smiled at your stupid response rolling his eyes. Your laughter settled down and you both stayed in silence for a while looking at each other before his hand went to push hair out of your face. “I think I wanna kiss you.” He finally spoke looking at your lips. “I think you should do it.” Matt licked his lip immediately grabbing the back of your head and gently pulling you into a kiss.
The kiss slowly became more heated Matt thrusting up into your clothed cunt as you held yourself down against him. You pulled away to kiss down his neck sucking on the space under his ear. “Y/n..” He moaned his stomach clenching. Your sucked until a hickey formed kissing his jaw back up to his lips the make out  continuing . Matt’s legs didn’t stop twitching trying to keep steady pace humping up against you. He tried holding the kiss but pulled away letting his head fall onto his pillow moaning into the air with his eyes closed. You smiled at him enjoying himself and leaned down nibbling on his ear lobe then kissed back to his neck licking and sucking at it. His eyes squeezed shut tightly for a moment before trying to calm down, he felt that familiar feeling of the knot in his belly tightening. “Oh my gosh.” He whimpered quietly his nails now dig into your hips as he stopped his thrusting.
“What’s wrong Matt?” You whispered into his ear. You knew he had to be close so you started moving your hips rolling them against his twitching boner. “It’s N-nothing. Oh my gosh…” He moaned quietly squeezing his eyes tightly shut again. “Then why did you stop moving?” “Cause y/n… I’ll cum, and I will if you keep moving.” He whispered opening his eyes to look at you. You smiled “In your pants Matt? What if I wanted it in my mouth? You’re so embarrassing.” You joked and giggled. He nodded quickly his eyes brows knitting together. “I know.. Y/n..” He held onto you tightly. “Look into my eyes Matt, I wanna see your face when you cum.” You whispered leaning down and licking his lips rubbing back and forth against him until you felt his twitching get rapid. “Oh fuck…oh fuck…I’m cumming.” He tried to murmur looking into your eyes as you sat up to get a better view. The knot in his stomach snapped erupting a big groan of relief from him releasing into his boxers. His eyes rolled back instinctively as he came so he closed him them. You watched his legs squirm around the bed, his hands griping onto you tightly switching from your hips your waist. “Wow.” You awed putting a hand to his neck rubbing the side gently to help soothe him. He started panted quietly and opened his eyes slowly looking at you his pupils big and black taking up his whole eye. “That’s so e-embarrassing..” He whimpered still coming down until he just relaxed his hands falling from you waist to bed. You pushed yourself down onto his legs and saw the wet spot he left on his sweatpants. You smiled looking back at his face . He sat up on his elbows and looked at you as you both couldn’t help start laughing at the situation.
“I won’t tell anyone this happened if you don’t.” You spoke. “Deal.” He smiled and sighed letting his body plop back onto the bed.
#dom!reader#sub!Sturniolo#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic
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End Game 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn't go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: get ready for the hate.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
The tunnel lights up ahead of you, revealing the cubic rock walls as you plant torches in your stead. The eerie soundtrack of night time and the ominous groan of zombies looming somewhere in the cave have you uptight. Silently, you press on, digging and mining mindlessly, fingers mashing the buttons on your controller.
“Hey, where are you?” Jacob’s voice startles you.
You nearly forgot you’re playing co-op. You sniff and shake your head, cursing aloud as your shock has you succumbing to the arrow of a sneaky skeleton. You sigh as your possessions scatter and you spawn back in your bed.
“Back home,” you say glumly, “just ate it.”
“Ah, damn,” his deep voice rolls in your noise-cancelling headset, “sorry, hope that wasn’t me.”
“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” you hum and sigh.
“Ah,” he accepts and lets silence linger before he clicks his tongue, “what’s going on? Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you put the controller down, your avatar sitting on the geometric bed, “I just...” you stretch your neck and massage your scalp around the thick band of the headset, “got a lot on my mind.”
“Right. I thought you were all done exams,” he says.
“I am, but... packing. Going home. I called my old boss and turns out I’m not gonna have a job this summer. Gotta start over,” you yawn and rub your eyes, “what about you? Final exam tomorrow?”
“Uh... yeah,” he hesitates as if he forgot. You do wonder why he isn’t cramming right now. You could never play minecraft all night the day before a final. “Easy stuff. I’m not worried.”
You scoff. You wish you could say the same. All you’ve done is worry those last two weeks. Exams, getting home, getting a job. Your grandmother won’t very happy to find out you’ll be slumming it for a while. At least you tucked away some money through the semester.
“Hey, if you need a few bucks...” Jacob offers.
“What? Are you crazy? No way,” you exclaim, “really, no, I couldn’t. I’ll be fine. I just... I hate looking for jobs. You know how it is. Friggin awkward.”
“It’s not a big deal. My dad sent me my birthday money so...”
“Uh uh,” you deny him again, “that’s way too much. I couldn’t-- we haven’t even met.”
“Mm, yeah, about that,” he exhales into his microphone, “I, uh, got an extra ticket to this Con. I figured out that’s it like the midway point between us so...”
“A con? Oh, wow--”
“Yeah, but I get that it would be expensive so maybe I could pay for your trip?”
“Jacob,” you wiggle the controller restlessly, “I can't accept that. It’s so nice but... it’s a lot.”
“I wouldn’t offer it was too much,” his voice is soft, meek, and defeated. You feel bad but you would feel worse taking advantage of his kindness. “We’ve been talking all year. I just figured it would be a good chance to meet up. It would be in public and something we both like so...”
You scratch your neck as it speckles with heat. You don’t know what’s more insulting; yes or no.
“Can I think about it?” You ask thinly.
The line is quiet. You look at the screen and it goes dim from your idling. You hit the analog stick and fix your headphones.
“Jacob?” You murmur.
“Sure, think about it,” he says, his voice raspy and rocky. It’s strange. You’ve seen him in pictures and his voice doesn’t really match his appearance. He sounds a lot older than he looks. “It’s next month so lots of time.”
“I’m sorry,” you cringe. “I just wouldn’t want to waste your money.”
“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste,” he insists, “this last year has sucked. So much. You got me through it all.” His microphone scuffs, “studying, exams, all that stuff. It’s tough making new friends. Seems like everyone here knows each other from high school.”
“Yeah, totally,” you agree.
You’re not exactly the most popular person. You have people you know in each class but not too many friends you hang out with outside the lecture hall or library. So far, not too many people want to spend hours mining digital gold or racing cartoon characters around a rainbow track.
“Well, you should probably get some sleep,” you yawn, “you got your big exam and... I gotta keep packing. Gotta catch the greyhound tomorrow night.”
“Sure, uh, yeah, right,” his disappointment is potent, “hey, will you text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it.” He snorts, “god, I sound like my dad right now.”
“Oh, of course,” you chirp back, “I’ll try to remember. Might be late.”
“That’s fine. Just as long as you let me know.”
“Don’t worry about me,” you assure him, “not ‘til I have to face my grandma. Ha.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” he says, “well... er...”
“Good night,” you finish for him, “let me know how the exam goes too.”
“Will do,” his timbre gets even lower, “night.”
You sign off and shut down the console. Another yawn flows through you and waters in your eyes. You should sleep, you got a long day waiting for you, but you know it won’t be easy. Not with so much on your mind, not least of all, Jacob’s invitation.
🎮
You text Jacob as you get on the bus, to make sure he doesn’t worry. It’s so sweet that he does, even some of your girlfriends don’t bother that much. Not that you mind the ‘hey, bitch’ Janet sends you every now and again to make sure you’re still alive.
You fall asleep on the bus. You’ve never been one to sleep while travelling but you’re exhausted from a night of anxious tossing and turning. After spending all day packing up the last of your things and scouring your dorm room, you’re beat to hell.
It’s midnight as you get to your grandmother’s house. She’s up reading another Stephen King classic in her rocking chair. She’s always been a night owl and a voracious book hound. She grumbles at you but doesn’t bother to ask how your trip was.
“Hey, grandma,” you hike up your bag and smile.
She growls again, eyes not leaving the page. You should know better by now not to interrupt her. You shoulder on and head down to the spare room where you spent most of your high-school career. You shut the door gently as the old hardwood floors creak with your weight and you drop your bag on the squeaky bed.
You fish out your phone and plug it in as the battery flashes red with only two percent left. You leave it on the night table and stretch out, not bothering to change out of your hoodie and jeans. It’s not long before you descend back into the same dreams that marked your journey home.
You wake up to buzzing. Your phone shakes the nightstand, rattling it against the bed frame. You groan and roll onto your side, reaching blindly for offending object. You hit the side button to dismiss the call.
You blink away the bleariness and focus on the screen. Along with the missed call are several text messages. You squint as you expand the notifications. Jacob! You forgot to message.
‘Hey, you home?’
‘Checking in. Must be busy getting settled in. Just let me know when you’re safe.’
‘Not meaning to be weird but everything okay?’
‘Please answer me. I’m worried.’
You drag your thumb around the keyboard, letting it predict your words; ‘sorry! I was so tired. Home now and safe 😊'
Three dots pop up then swoop away. You frown as the same thing happens several times before a response appears.
‘Was really worried. Thanks for finally answering. Been up all night.’
You’re stunned by the terse response. Yeah, you forgot to answer but he doesn’t need to worry that much. You frown and shift onto your side.
‘Srry again. Tired. Talk in morning. Night.’
You turn your phone on silent and plug it back into the cord. You do feel bad but you’re too exhausted to let it keep you up. Besides, you need your sleep. You have lots of job hunting to do in the morning. Not to mention, your grandmother to face.
🎮
You let Jacob cool down after your return home. Rather, he doesn’t text and you’re too distracted to do the same. As much as you’d like to sit around and game, your grandmother was as disappointed as you expected with your employment status, even when you gave her the money you had left in your emergency fund.
After a week, you finally get a bite. It’s nothing special. There’s a seasonal ice cream shop in a booth shaped like a vanilla cone that needs a cashier on weeknights. It’s less than full time hours but it’s better than nothing. It will be strange working with high school juniors but you can’t afford to be picky.
‘Game tonight?’ The text interrupts your first shift. You don’t have a chance to answer as a family approaches the window to order.
You get them the soft serve and take their payment, bidding them a good evening with their vanilla points already drooping in the summer heat. You glance around at the mostly empty picnic tables. Soccer practice will end soon and you’ll be overloaded with eight-year-olds.
‘Srry. New job. 1st shift. Maybe tmrw.’
‘New job? Congrats. Why didn’t you tell me?’
You sigh.
‘Time got ahead of me.’
‘Same. Catch up tomorrow then. Minecraft?’
‘Sure. Tmrw.’
You slip your phone away. A mother and daughter approach and ask for a sundae and a banana split. As much as you love ice cream, working with it hasn’t tested your cravings very much. In fact, you might be falling out of love with it. The smell of vanilla and overly sweetened strawberries is kind of gross when it’s all you breathe.
As you watch the happy customers walk away, you smile. Maybe it will be good to get some mining done. It will take your mind off of everything else. Hell, it might even make you feel like you’re doing something useful.
🎮
“Shit, oh, sorry,” Jacob corrects himself. You always think it's kind of funny how he doesn’t like to swear. “My diamond armor.”
“Oh no,” you utter, “where are you? I’ll grab your stuff.”
He gives his coordinates and you turn around, leaping over the green blocks to make your way there. Despite your reticence at the beginning, you’re feeling better about the session. He wasn’t as tense as he seemed in his texts.
“So, uh, did you think about the con?” Jacob asks.
“The con? I almost forgot. When is it?”
He gives the dates and you hum. Your chest flutters at the thought still. You’re not stupid. Meeting people IRL is not like online, no matter how many hours you’ve mined together. As much as you enjoy chatting with Jacob, you don’t know about meeting up.
“I get it if you can’t get the time off but my offer still stands to cover the trip. If you wanna stay the night, I’ll even get an airBnB.”
“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. I’m working now. I could put in,” you offer.
“Is that a yes?” He asks hopefully.
“I don’t know... I mean, I’ll have to look into it,” you say evasively. “Talk to my boss and grandma and all that.”
“Right, right,” he tries to sound unbothered, “makes sense. Of course, no pressure. How about I send you the ticket either way? Haven’t got anyone else to bite.”
“Oh, well, hold off, I wouldn’t want to take it and not use it,” you collect his weapons and armor from the ground in the game.
It’s silent as you focus on getting every little thing.
“Sorry, did I freak you out?” He asks, “I’m really not trying to pressure you, just got excited thinking about it.”
“I know, Jacob, it’s not that, it’s just... a lot.”
“Totally get it,” he intones, “let me know whenever you got an answer. Uh, where are you? I’m tryna find you.”
“Just stay there, I'll come back to the house,” you assure him, happy to focus on the game instead.
Still, you can’t entirely lose yourself in it. You’re sure he’s a nice guy. From pictures, he’s less than scary, and he’s never been anything but friendly. It’s not like the other dudes you meet online who jump to asking about your bra size and all that. It just isn’t smart.
Well, maybe if you don’t show up alone. You know what con he’s talking about and Kara from Econ lives near there. You could probably convince her to meet up. Hm, that might work.
Just like you told him, you’ll have to think about it.
#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#andy barber x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#end game#series#defending jacob
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make that mfer BAM 💥🥣
Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1k wc
Summary: Jack doubts his speechwriting skills. You tug that nonsense right out of him.
cws: emergency handjob, food play, cum eating, he cum in he got damn soup idk what else to tell ya !! dear readers please make sure you’re registered to vote and do try to get involved with the Harris campaign in any way you can (it’s what Jack would want, after all 😁)
hats off to my darling editor @mystardustmelodyyy as always 🩵🗳️
minors dni in fact don’t even glance at it
Light-footed staff weave around your path as you track the length of the house to check on tonight’s finishing touches. Your shoes clack against the mirror-polished foyer tile in time with the cadence of your speech repetition.
A text had just come in from your assistant: everyone was having a splendid time, they were on their way to your place now, and a smidge of traffic might push the start of dinner back, ten minutes at the most. Everything was falling into place, but you couldn’t turn down a free moment to go over your words one last time.
“As you all know, my grandparents were lifelong patrons of the arts… honored to present our new exhibition at my fiancé’s library… we thank you all for your generous…” you lose your train of thought when you spot Jack pacing frantically in an alcove, hands twitching as he stifles reflexive hang loose signs. He jolts at the hand you place on his shoulder and defaults to an uncharacteristically strained smile when he sees it’s you.
“How’s the rehearsal going?”
“Well, I think I hate it.” He bites a knuckle and squints exasperatedly at the tiny font on his phone. “There’s so many jokes in here. Why?!” Jack getting cold feet was the only thing you hadn’t planned for; usually he’s the one swooping in when you’re in such a state. There’s absolutely no time for rewrites, so you need to shut this shit down before he decides to start editing anyway. You squeeze his shoulder a little bit, and his head snaps up to see your most convincing faux-worried face.
“Can you help me with one thing real quick, and then we can get it sorted?”
That breaks him out of the fog long enough for you to drag him through the dining room and into the kitchen abuzz with steam and roving caterers.
A curt “Out!” scatters them, and then it’s just you two and the gentle hum of the convection ovens. You guide Jack over to where tonight’s soup is already plated, then to his bowl placed off to the side, accompanied by a post it stuck to the counter: “JS NO SWEET POTATO”.
He’s still lost in thought as you nudge him closer and move behind him.
“I already tasted it, it’s fine,” he mumbles as you start undoing his pants. His voice trails to a sigh when you take his cock out.
“You loved that speech all last week. What’s going on now?”
“I just-“ he doesn’t comment when you start stroking him, but you can feel the muscles in his back loosen slightly, and some of the tension leaks out of his voice. “I really want this to go well for us.”
Your unoccupied hand slides up his lapel and grasps his to stop the fumbling with his tie.
“It’s already going well, and we’re going to keep it that way.” His brow is still furrowed, but that cute little fuzzy edge his voice gets when you take control is seeping in.
“Won’t they be here soon?”
“Not for at least twenty minutes.” The slippery noises your movements make as he starts to leak echo off all the stainless steel and sound almost amplified in the empty space. It’s just warm enough in the kitchen for your brain to flirt with the idea of calling the whole thing off and spending the night here. “Don’t worry. I won’t let the clock run out on you.”
You can feel his grip on his doubts loosening with every deliberate stroke, and soon he’s bucking into your hand as much as the space between you and the counter will let him.
Jack’s posture sags as he relaxes against you, the sudden movement nearly bobbing him close enough to dip his tip into the soup.
“Keep moving around like that and you’ll burn yourself.”
“Sorry.” He sounds a million miles away from the ball of nerves you found a few minutes ago.
“On your toes. You’re making a mess.” And he does, of course, so you have a proper angle to aim him down at the bowl and prevent the twin rivulets of precum from sliding down your wrist onto his trousers. His mouth falls open when the first drops break the surface tension.
“That’s all I want you to focus on. You know you’ll do well, I know you’ll do well, just do this for me, okay?”
He nods wordlessly.
“Say it for me,” you croon softly into his ear, watching the goosebumps blossom down his neck when your lips graze it.
Jack’s head slumps to the side for a better look at you, but his irises are wandering like bumblebees and working against him.
“I’m focusing.” he slurs.
“I know, I know.” Your hand speeds up to match his breathing as he white knuckles the counter. It’s hard to keep your wrist steady when you feel his ass start tightening up.
“It’s gonna make a mess,” he gasps out.
“No it won’t. Stay still for me. You’ve got this. I know you do.”
Jack’s whole body tenses up, and his protests fade into little pants at your ambiguous encouragement. He throbs in your hand one, two, three, four times as you hold him just a whisper above the steaming bowl. No splash; the rest of him is trembling with the effort, but his hips stay locked in place to neatly spill into his meal.
As soon as his heels are back on solid ground, you’re stretching up to kiss right above his eyebrow. A hand cradling his jaw eases him back to reality.
“It’s a great speech.”
“It’s a great speech.” He can't stop himself from smiling, finally relaxed enough to let it reach his eyes.
-at the table-
From the beginning you’d insisted Jack should speak after you; he was much better at settling everyone into dinner conversation following your more formal remarks. Of course, your guests are utterly captivated by him; he manages to get even your sternest donors chuckling in under five minutes. So captivated, in fact, that you’re free to ogle at him from the other end of the table without worry. You’re crossing and recrossing your legs watching his mouth move, realizing for the first time tonight how fucking hungry you are. When the soup is served, you scarcely blink watching his first mouthful. He stares back just as entranced, completely forgetting his table manners and using his thumb to swipe an errant drop into his mouth.
#jack schlossberg#jack schlossberg x reader#freak nasty#if you voted for soup nasty let me hear you scream#the debate was the least arousing 90 minutes of my life but we locked in#for democracy
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Slap Ass Friday
author’s note: i dont know if slap ass friday was a thing outside of the u.s. schooling system or the area i live in or not but basically a lot of people in the middle school would just participate in slapping their friends asses. or boys would do it to try and get girls attention (gross to think back about this and think its normal) but in these scenarios, these are actual couples and consent is involved except for suna’s. I thought i would make them into a highschool age type
let me know if you guys want more, feel free to leave a comment, like, reblog or hit up my requests, i havent posted or written fanfic in a long time so i appreciate it if youve taken the time to read this 🫶🏼
word count: ~1k
warnings: suggestive content, spanking, kissing, sexual harassment-minimal in suna’s
・❥・ Bokuto Koutaro ・❥・
“KOUU!! This is the third time today! I’m pretty sure I feel welts starting to form,” you yelled and turned towards him, looking at him with playful, sad eyes. You jutted your bottom lip out in a slight pout. Your ass was stinging from the intense mark your boyfriend, Bokuto, had just left. He grabbed your hands and pulled them around his waist, just before doing the same to yours. Bokuto had rested his hands at the top curve of your butt, his thumbs giving you light traces right above your skirt’s waistline. His arms held you close, and the sandalwood and citrus aroma of his cologne smelled divine. His golden eyes held your gaze with nothing but pure love—one of the many traits about him that you gravitated toward and loved instantly.
He leaned into your ear with a smirk on his face. "Oh, please, we both know you like it, baby. Don’t even bother denying it.” He gave a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching before slipping his hand under your skirt. Quickly giving you a wet neck kiss while gently grabbing your cheek, he just slapped you. “I love you, Bunny-chan,” he said, kissing your cheek. You slapped his ass back before he could walk to his next class, smirking at his faux-shocked face.
・❥・ Kozume Kenma ・❥・
Kenma, you, and Kuroo stood in the corner of the gym, teammates scattered across the floor. Practice had just ended, and you were all getting ready to leave. Kenma's eyes fixed on his switch. The sound of playful slaps and laughter filled the air as his teammates participated in the weekly tradition. Normally, he would not include himself, but since dating you, he’d been thinking it’d be funny to surprise you by doing so.
You were engrossed in conversation with Kuroo, not minding the loudness around you—you were used to it by now. Kenma glanced up briefly, noticing the playful atmosphere around him. Without tearing his eyes from his game, he smirked slightly and decided to join in on the fun.
In one swift motion, he reached out and gave you a playful slap on the ass. The sound could be heard from the other side of the gym. It made you jump and turn to him, eyes wide with surprise.
“Kenma! You could’ve politely asked for my attention instead,” you said, smirking at him.
Kenma’s focus was already back on his game, shrugging, “I’m participating in the weekly holiday.” A smirk formed on his face, matching your energy.
You laughed in response, shaking your head, clearly amused. “Warn me next time, will you?” you teased back.
Kenma diverted his attention from his game, locking eyes with you, his golden brown gaze unwavering. “Where’s the fun in that?”
You and Kuroo had laughed, not expecting this mischievousness from Kenma. Even with his quiet, reserved way, he could still be a part of the fun—and maybe even surprise you once in a while.
・❥・ Kuroo Tetsuro ・❥・
You and Kuroo had always had a playful relationship with each other, often teasing each other in fun, light-hearted ways. Knowing what today was, you were going to take full advantage of the tradition. Today’s mission was to catch Kuroo off guard as many times as you could.
Throughout the day, you managed to sneakily slap Kuroo’s ass in various scenarios—between classes, during lunch, even during practice. Every time, he would react with a mix of surprise and amusement. When you ended up doing it in front of his teammates, they would all chuckle at the playful exchange between their captain and you.
Kuroo, being the mischievous strategist he is, pretends to be unfazed, plotting his perfect moment for revenge. As the day progressed, you had gotten a few more slaps in, leaving Kuroo with a smirk on his face as he bided his time.
It was the end of the school day, and Kuroo and you were both packing up your things and preparing to head home for the weekend. Kuroo had walked you home like normal, laughing and chatting as always. You had felt successful and triumphant from your considered “wins” of the day. When you both reached your home, you turned to say goodbye, thinking you had gotten away with it.
In that moment, Kuroo had slapped your butt swiftly, catching you completely off guard. You gasped and then laughed, “Oh my god, Tetsu!” now realizing you underestimated his timing. He grinned at you, leaning in to whisper, “Turnabout’s a fair play, babe.” Kissing your cheek and starting the walk back to his own home.
・❥・ Suna Rintarou ・❥・
You and Suna had been dating for a while now, but one of your classmates, Kenji, made it seem like he was oblivious to the fact. He wouldn’t take the hint, and it was right in front of his face. Even after telling him that she was with him, he was still persistent with his flirting and inappropriate advances.
During a break in between classes, you had been chatting with a group of friends. Kenji had seen you talking to them, thinking it would be the perfect moment to try his luck again and smack your rear. You were visibly uncomfortable and annoyed. Unbeknownst to Kenji, Suna and his teammates had observed the incident.
Suna, known for his calm demeanor but sharp tongue when provoked, had stepped in. He calmly walks over with his teammates behind him, walking tall and intimidating. With a piercing gaze, Suna firmly tells Kenji to back off and to respect your boundaries. Kenji was taken aback by your boyfriend’s assertiveness. He tried stuttering off excuses before Suna’s teammates reinforced his warning with their presence.
Kenji closed his mouth, realizing he crossed a line he shouldn’t have. His face was turning red from embarrassment and humiliation. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, walking away quickly with his head down. You were grateful for Suna’s intervention, you thanked him with a relieved smile. Suna reassured you that he would always have your back, no matter what.
tetsuswaifu © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to @tetsuswaifu
#kenma x reader#kozume kenma#kenma x y/n#kenma x you#kenma x female reader#hq kenma#bokuto x female reader#bokuto x reader#bokuto x y/n#bokuto x you#bokuto koutarou#hq bokuto#kuroo x reader#kuroo x you#kuroo x y/n#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x female reader#hq kuroo#hq suna#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#suna x you#suna x y/n#suna x female reader#hq x reader#hq x you#this was fun writing lol#⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆tetsuswaifu original post
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cw: mentions of s/h scars, insecurities, hurt/comfort, soft chan, 3rd person fem pov, swearing, mentions of body worship, small caps on purpose (please let me know if i missed any)
wc: 0.7k
a.n - HUGE DISCLAIMER. please please refrain from reading if you’re sensitive to any of the topics above. this is meant to be a vent post and NOT glorification of s/h, mental illnesses, ect. feel free to scroll if necessary. and if you want/need to talk my dms are always open. i love you all <3
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
looking at herself in the mirror, y/n sighs. she ghosts her fingertips over the lines of scar tissue littering her outer thigh, each one a reminder of every time she’s struggled.
each one proof that she overcame them. that she survived.
even though she knows this she can’t help but critique them, and herself.
how could she have been so weak, so fragile that she let her thoughts and feelings consume her life so much to the extent that she broke.
fortunately for her, there had always someone there that picked up the shards of her soul that had been scattered around. he glued them back together with his love and overtime handed her heart back in one piece, almost as if it never was broken in the first place.
“hi baby,” chris greets as rests his chin on her shoulder, dragging her out of her thoughts.
“hey,” she mumbles, continuing to run her fingers over the length of a particularly large scar. her boyfriend’s hands move to hold her hips, afraid that if he lets go she’ll slip through his fingers.
“what did i tell you about that, hm?” his voice is low and gentle as he scans over her body. the same body that he quite literally worships, always reassuring her of his adoration.
y/n sighs and pinches her eyes shut so she doesn’t have to look at him as she replies, “criticizing them is almost as bad as creating them.”
chris pulls y/n closer before whispering into her ear, as if they weren’t the only ones in the room. “exactly. now look at me, baby.” y/n shakes her head, feeling too embarrassed.
“baby girl. look at me.” chris manages to keep his composure despite feeling about a dozen emotions at once. though, it’s not the first time she’s been like this and they both know that it won’t be the last. he’s never minded it, actually, and never will. he would rather her talk about her urges then act on them. however, he’d never let that happen as long as he’s alive.
y/n lifts her gaze to meet his in the mirror, watching as his lips curl into his familiar, warm smile.
“there she is,” he murmurs, “can i?” chris’s hand creeps down from her waist to her leg where her shorts are raised, her insecurities on display for him.
she nods as she leans back against his chest. she follows his fingers as they trace over the largest scar tainting her skin.
“no matter how many times i see them, i’m never going to stop loving them. loving you. but you know this already, don’t you baby?��� y/n nods. of course she knows, chris doesn’t give her a moment to doubt- or even forget his words. and he never will.
“you’re strong, y’know that? you are so very strong. and i know you hate hearing it but it’s the truth. you persevered and even though it pains me to admit it, you did it all on your own. that takes guts, baby.” chris buries his face in her neck, placing soft kisses on the column of her throat.
they stay like this for a while: his arms wrapped around her as he sways back and forth. he finally breaks the silence after he turns her to face him. he cups her jaw before placing a soft kiss on her lips.
“c’mon. let me run you a bath, yeah? i’ll make you some tea too.” y/n nods and smiles at him.
“thank you,” she laces their fingers together.
“for what, baby?”
“for loving me,” chris frowns slightly and pulls her into a comforting embrace, engulfing her in his warmth.
“you don’t ever need to feel the need to thank me for that, okay? i’ll always be here.”
whoever said that you can’t love somebody else until you love yourself was a fucking liar. chris is walking proof of this
#snowyquokka#stray kids#skz#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz reactions#skz bang chan#stray kids bang chan#bangchan#bang chan#stray kids fic#skz fic#bang chan fic#stray kids angst#skz angst#bang chan angst#vent post
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I Can't Lose You
Warnings: Ok... this is gonna be a long one. Cursing, Lying, pain really... as far as the eye can see. Panic attacks. There is also another warning that I really wanna give but it'll also give a big part away.
Pairing: ? xReader (Another spoiler come on!)
Characters: All of the Stray Kids, OC Soo, Reader
A/N: This is my first posted Stray Kids fic, so if you like it I'll be happy to make more! Feedback is always appreciated! And if you like Supernatural as well here's my masterlist!
Overall Masterlist- Click Here
I Can't Lose You Masterlist-Click Here
ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE.
ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.
Things started off small, a missed call here, and a late text there. Then, they started to get more sporadic… More suspicious. Most of all, it’s in his eyes. When he’d see the dinner made and packed in the fridge for him. The laundry and dishes done, you passed out on the couch, waiting for him to come home. You didn’t see it, but his face had guilt written all over it.
You weren’t blind. You saw the lipstick on his collar, and the scent on his clothes. The times that you kept saying, “I know you’re busy” and pecking him on his lips, despite the perfume attacking your senses.
You figured one of his sister idols hugged him, that’s how it transferred, yeah, that was a comfy thought. It even made complete sense since hugs were a must.
It was your 3rd anniversary, you had everything planned. All that you asked of him was to show up at said place at said time. That’s quite literally it. You had been planning this for months, even going as far as talking his manager into giving him one weekend off… just one. You also asked him what you could do to make his life just slightly easier.
Now here you are… alone… at said place at said time. Texting. Calling. No answer. 10 minutes turned into 20 minutes, 20 to 40, 40 to an hour and a half. You sit here on the verge of tears, calling the only person you could.
“Hey Y/N why are you calling? Is everything okay?” Minho asked.
“He never showed,” You started crying as you mindlessly picked the petals off of the roses on the table, staring at the card you had gotten him.
“He’s your husband, what do you mean he didn’t show?!” He yelled.
You heard in the background, “WHAT?!” there was no mistaking that voice, it was Changbin.
Then you heard the phone being snatched.
“Y/N where are you? I’m coming to get you.”
You gave him the address as you tried your best to breathe. You had taken a cab here and nothing is more awkward than breaking down in the back of an Uber. About 20 minutes later you heard Bin behind you.
“Y/N?” He asked so gently like you’d break… But you already have.
You looked at him, not knowing what to say. “Your best friend’s been lying to me?”... No. You elected to just say, “I don’t know where to go.” because it’s true. You had no clue where to go.
Binnie smiled at you. A sad, empathetic, whisper of a smile as he said “Let’s start with home, yeah?” He asked.
You nodded, grabbed the card off of the table, and off you went.
You had asked the guys to give you guys alone time in the dorm, so everyone was scattered through the city. Bin just happened to be at the Danceracha house when you called.
You had no clue, but before Bin had even gotten in his car to get you. He texted everyone to meet at the 3Racha house, but NOT to go in before Bin made it to the house with you. He could tell by the look on your face that something was very wrong, and you’d need all of the support you could get.
When everyone was there, you unlocked the door and Bin was the first to go in. Immediately his jaw dropped as he hung his head. When you came in you heard it.
Moaning… loud moaning. You looked at the floor near the front door, seeing a pair of heels you didn’t recognize. You welcomed the boys in with a pointer finger to your lips. Everyone quietly came in as you toed off your heels, eventually sitting on the couch.
You as well as the boys heard everything… The “I love you” s, the “Feel so much better than her” and finally the nail in the coffin, “I can’t wait to leave her.”
Everyone’s jaws were on the floor at what he was saying and at your reaction to them. You just stared at the wedding photo hanging on the mantle. The thought of losing the boys paralyzing you with fear.
He continued, “never wanted her…only you… always you,” then, “m’close Baby.” You couldn’t even look at the boys. It wasn’t embarrassing, after all, you aren’t the one cheating on your husband with someone while he’s waiting to celebrate your anniversary.
You couldn’t look because of the overwhelming sadness. It was numbing, aching, sadness.
Another thing you could say is that you should’ve seen it coming. Some of his most popular songs have lyrics about someone else catching his eye.
You can hear his moans getting louder, that's a sign that he’s close so you put the card down, get up, and walk down the hallway. You look at the door that used to mean serenity and happiness, now colored a nauseating dark and gloomy gray.
You open the door and walk in. You see them, your husband and your best friend, writhing around on the bed as they both reach their highs together. You couldn’t find it in you to cry. Not even a little.
Finally, your husband rolled off of her, giggling and enjoying the high.
The only one who noticed you were there was your best friend, Soo, who has been your friend since you moved here 6 years ago, so you could be closer to the boys. When she saw you, her face turned ghost-white…
You just put your wedding band on the dresser drawer.
“Fuck you’re so much better than her.” he breathed out… When she didn’t respond, he opened his eyes. The pure chocolate orbs scanned you and wished, just like you, that this was a nightmare.
“Y/N/N” he breathed, you could see the weight on his shoulders as he threw his head back onto the pillow, putting his hands to his face, knowing that he was caught.
“Soo… you have 3 minutes to get dressed and to get the FUCK out of MY HOUSE…” You gritted your teeth as you threw her clothing at her.
As soon as she left you turned your full attention to your husband.
You calmly started changing clothes, taking off the skin-tight black dress that you knew would do something to him (Well thought you knew, rather). You didn’t face him as you changed, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your body. Halfway through pulling down the dress you grabbed a big sweatshirt and put it on, so when the rest of the dress slid off, He’d never see a thing. You put on sweatpants afterward.
In your mind, you already know. The last time he will ever see your body was 3 days ago. When you both took a shower together.
During all of this, he was frozen. You see, when your relationship started you told him, you don’t tolerate cheaters. He knows that and that you are pissed, and rightfully so, but he is also terrified of losing you. As a matter of fact, at this point, that is the only thing he is thinking about. He can’t lose you.
After you changed you started with, “How long?”
“Y/N/N I..”
“HOW LONG?” You barked. Your voice taking a stern and powerful tone.
“Physically, 2 months. Emotionally, almost a year.” His face fell.
“Do you remember what today is?”
“What?”
“Do you remember what today is?” you asked in a docile tone as you took off your earrings, ones he had gotten for your first anniversary.
He checked his phone and cursed under his breath, “Baby I--”
That was when you lost it, “YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT! NOT AFTER YOU SAID IT OVER AND OVER TO HER WHILE YOU WERE FUCKING HER IN OUR BED! IN OUR HOME!”
You tried to stop it from boiling over, but you couldn’t help it when visceral sobs left your throat. You grabbed a duffel bag out of the corner of the room, trying to do your best not to completely collapse.
“Y/N, what are you doing, talk to me.” He finally got up and put some sweats on. “I know you’re hurting.”
You yelled, “This is beyond hurt!…”, Then your voice cracked as your volume plummeted, sounding and looking so small as you continued, “You have no fucking idea what you just did.”
You started hyperventilating at the gravity of his shitty decisions and the effect it will have on your life. You needed to get away from him. You stumbled out of the room and into the hallway. You couldn’t even call out to Hannie, too close to passing out from hyperventilation.
Hannie’s ears perked up, your raspy and rapid breathing meant that you were hyperventilating. The next second he’s running to you.
“Hey hey hey Y/N/N. You need to breathe honey, come with me.” He immediately supported your body, halting all possibility of you diving face first into the floor if you do pass out. Then he essentially dragged you back to where you were sitting.
You grabbed the card and held it to your chest as Han kneeled in between your legs. He was trying to get you to focus on your breathing and to focus on him, to ground yourself.
As much as you wanted to focus on Han, you couldn’t help but look at that damn photo on the mantle. You wanted that photo so badly to be true again. You couldn’t help the sobs that came out of your mouth as you hugged the card to yourself.
When your husband, Chan, finally made his way to the living room he saw everyone there and his face turned nearly colorless. Everyone stared at him except for Han and Bin, who were worried about you more than anything.
“You don’t understand” and “he doesn’t understand” were all you could repeat as you wept. Rocking back and forth, because no one really could understand, the gravity of what he has been doing.
Bin tried getting through to you by saying, “Help us understand Y/N/N.” You handed him the card as you continued sobbing, consumed by the sheer pain of what Chan’s done.
Bin opened the card and his face went from confusion to rage-filled, his features reminding Han of hardened steel. Unwavering, strong, and in this case, pissed off.
Bin tried to sound as calm as he could, for your sake, as he said, “Hannie, put together an overnight bag for Y/N, don’t forget anything. Innah, take her to my car… she needs to calm down if not we have to go to the hospital.”
As soon as he heard the car door slam, he went off.
“You know out of all of the people I could ever conceive doing this, you would be the last of them!”
“Bin” Chan tried to say something but Changbin cut him off.
“NO! YOU DON’T GET A SAY HERE, CHRIS! YOU FUCKED UP ROYALLY AND NOW YOU DESTROYED YOUR FAMILY!” Bin was visibly shaking with rage as he walked up to Chan. Tears were starting to form in his eyes.
LeeKnow looked visibly confused as he looked to Bin, “What are you talking about?”
Bin threw the content of the card at Chan’s feet.
Chan looked at what the card had in it, it was unmistakable.
Bin sounded broken as he responded, “Y/N is pregnant.”.
_______________________________________________________
WANT MORE? TELL ME SO!!!
Stray Kids TAG ARMY (just going to add some seriously talented Stray Kids Fanfic writers that I know about!):
@1-800-shedevil , @channiesbakery, @channieswhore , @hwangswhore , @seungminhour , @skzms, @angstraykids, @roseykat , @seventeenytiny , @dreaming-medium , @thunderous-wolf , @hanjsquokka , @moonjxsung , @diddybok , @fics-lovebot, @seungminssangel, @straykeedz, @tasteracha, @skzonthebrain
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids x female reader#stray kids angst#stray kids x you#skz x reader#skz angst#skz imagines#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#bang chan x y/n#bang chan#changbin#han jisung#He did what?#new to stray kids ff writing#did I do okay?#Cursing#Lying#Panic attacks#Cheating#adultry
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Always - S.Snape
Summary - She thought her husband was dead after the battle at Hogwarts after not being able to find him until the boathouse.
Pairings - Husband!Snape x Wife!Reader
Warnings - Talks of blood, death, worry, female reader, use of Y/N
Based off an ask by @nooneeveryonenoone
Author's Note - It's been a long time but I'm back and hopefully better than ever, I'm gonna spend the next few days working on my requests before moving to my series. I will hopefully finish up my Always There series soon so I can post my next Theo series! Thank you all for being patient!
Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!
My requests are open!
my masterlist
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged
Enjoy!
The amount of worry she felt was like no other. Her heart stopped when she didn’t see Severus after Voldemort was defeated. She frantically searched the crowd to no avail. “Harry! Where’s Severus? Where is he?!” She shouted at the boy.
“He was in the boathouse, Nagini attacked hi-”
She didn’t even let the boy finish before she took off running to the boathouse, nearly falling down the plethora of stairs going down. Her heart was beating out of her chest, breathless as she approached the docks. She threw open the doors, the putrid metallic smell of blood hit her nose like a ton of bricks. The sight was no better, a mix of dark red and dried brown scattered around, pooling under the man’s body.
“Severus! Severus please!” She cried out as she fell to her knees in the pool, she didn’t even feel the scraping of her skin on the concrete, only focused on the man she called her husband. She looked at him as tears streamed down her face, inspecting the bite on his neck and his chest, hoping to see it rise with a breath.
Immediate relief washed over her as she watched his chest rise weakly. “Sev, open your eyes, please. I can’t do this without you, please,” She begged the man.
Slowly and weakly, his eyes fluttered open, a small smile gracing his pale lips, “Hi lovely,” He rasped.
“What do you need? How can I help you? I don’t know what to do!”
“Relax. I have antivenom in my pocket, can you grab it?”
“Which one?”
“The left.”
She frantically dug into his disgusting amount of pockets before finally feeling the vile in the last one. She shakily opened it before pouring the contents into his mouth. As he was swallowing she ripped her already torn cloak and put pressure on the still bleeding wound on his neck. She couldn’t remember the spell to heal wounds for the life of her, her brain was scattered, her heart still racing. She couldn’t hear the footsteps approaching the boathouse until the door swung open, grabbing her wand and standing in front of Severus, a spell on her tongue, anything to protect him.
A red blast wrecked the side of the door before she heard a familiar voice, “It’s Minerva and Pomona!”
“Help me! He’s bleeding and I don’t know what to do!”
Madame Pomphrey rushed into the boathouse, her wand at the ready to heal the man in front of her. Minerva was quick to take Y/N out as Madame Pomphrey did her best to heal the potions master. It was only then that she felt like she could break down, collapsing to the ground in a fit of sobs.
“I can’t lose him Minnie!”
“You won’t, Pomona knows what to do. You need to let it out, feel your emotions, talk me through it,” Minerva guided her.
“All I could smell was his blood and that’s the only thing I could see. I thought he was dead, he wasn’t breathing when I got to him but then he started after a minute. I was so scared, I am scared,” She rambled to the older professor, “Then he’s telling me that I need to relax! Who can relax when they see the love of their life knocking on death’s door? Then he’s telling me he had antivenom in his pocket and he has so many damn pockets that I couldn’t find it!”
“He’s a smart man.”
“I know that but he’s so stupid at times! Why would he meet Voldemort in the boathouse by himself?! That was so stupid!”
“He was playing his role, granted it nearly got him killed but he helped get rid of Voldemort for good.”
“You know calling your husband stupid isn’t a very nice thing, lovely,” Severus’ voice rang out. She scrambled to her feet before tripping her way to her husband, the man who was now standing at the doorway with the help of Pomona, engulfing him in a tight hug and staying there, holding the man.
“Shut up,” She whimpered into chest.
“I’m okay, the antivenom worked and Pomona healed my wounds. I’m okay,” He assured her, hugging her back just as tight.
“I thought you were gonna die.”
“Never, not when I have you to get back to. I’ll always come back to you.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
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PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST
Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader
Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door. "
Warning: (oh my Lord, where do I start? 🤭) Smut, smut, and smut! Slapping, dirty talk, sloppy oral sex, licking, nipple and chest worship, fluffy, name calling, asking for consent is sexy! 😋
A/N: Hi everyone! I said I would be back earlier than usual (please don't get used to it 🙏). Usually, my weeks are busy with work, but since I had to stay home, I managed to organize the story faster. Just heads up that there is smut, and yes, things happen quickly. I had already warned you 🤷♀️. It's not the first smut I've written, but it is the first one I'm posting. Am I a little embarrassed? Yes, but whatever. I hope you enjoy it and that it turns out great. Have fun 😈.
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Chapter 4
A deep, pleasurable sound escapes my throat as his mouth presses against mine. It feels like I’m finally taking a breath after holding it for far too long.
His tongue doesn’t wait for permission to invade my mouth; it slips in between my lips, entwining with mine, sucking and biting, dominating me in a dance that leaves no room for hesitation. A low growl escapes his throat as I tangle my fingers in his hair, reflecting on all the times he provoked me, fully aware of the effects he has on me.
My hands move instinctively, pulling him closer, fingertips grazing the hard planes of his abdomen until there’s no space left between us. His warm skin glides under my palm, and I dig my nails into his back. Contrary to what I expected, he doesn’t retreat or complain; instead, he bites my lower lip and his hands slide from my waist to my buttocks, squeezing me firmly, exploring every inch of my body. He delivers a sharp slap to my ass, the sound echoing in the room making my panties grow even wetter. Oh God, I’m going to hell.
His thigh presses between my legs, and before I can fully grasp his intentions, I pull away from his face to catch my breath. He grips my hip tightly, rocking me gently, sending waves of warmth to the pit of my stomach–a sensation so intoxicating that it consumes me entirely. Inadvertently, I start moving on my own, using the tips of my toes for balance and his shoulders for leverage. I’m so lost in the sensations, using his smooth skin and warmth for my own pleasure, that I’m blindsided when Jungkook suddenly lifts me onto his lap, never breaking the kiss.
I let out a small, surprised squeak as he lays me back onto the bed. The shock intensifies when the towel slips away, leaving us both breathless. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, and almost involuntarily, I avert my gaze to the ceiling. I hear his laughter beside the bed, and curiosity gets the better of me; I peek at him. His body is sculpted and strong, broad shoulders adorned with dark tattoos that only amplify his allure. I try to look away, but it’s nearly impossible.
My eyes wander to his erect member–large, its head the same color as his pink lips. The sight of his trimmed pubic hair stirs a mixture of desire and unease within me. My heart races, feeling as if it might burst from the intensity of it all. Jungkook doesn’t give me time to gather my thoughts; he crawls towards me on his knees, capturing my mouth with his once more.
“You’re blushing,” he remarks with a proud smile, slipping his hand under the cotton blouse I’m wearing. I gasp as his fingers trail over my stomach, teasing my navel. “Take off your shirt; I want to see you better.”
“Jungkook…” I moan weakly, feeling his tongue glide from my jaw to my collarbone. He uses his teeth and lips to suck on my skin, and my thoughts scatter, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Come on, take it off. I want to see you naked.”
“I... I don’t know. I’m nervous.”
“Will you let me do it for you?” he asks, his tone understanding, as if he senses the tension radiating from me but finds it enticing. I nod in silent agreement. He studies my expression for a moment, biting his lower lip, pushing back his damp hair.
His right hand returns to my waist, this time with a gentle touch, his fingertips gliding over my stomach as if I were made of glass. I swallow hard as he slowly begins to lift my blouse. My skin is exposed, and my breasts finally liberated, illuminated by the bright light of the room. Embarrassment floods me, and I instinctively cover my nipples with my arms. My breath quickens, and in the back of my mind, I picture my mother; a shiver of guilt running down my spine, twisting the moment into something fraught with apprehension, as if I’m committing the greatest mistake of my life and only just now realizing it. Jungkook notices my distress, his jaw tightening; he bites his lip again.
“Everything is okay, love.” he assures me softly, brushing his thumb over my hand.
I nod, inhaling deeply and closing my eyes. I think of everything and nothing all at once. I want this. Just for once, I long to embrace the madness that will make this moment unforgettable. I crave the fear and anticipation tingling down my spine, the very sensation coursing through me now. If I tell Jungkook to stop, I know he will. I sense his attentive gaze on me, the care and concern in his eyes. This realization boosts my confidence slightly, as I notice that though I am inexperienced, I have ignited the same desire in him; he is just as tense, just as full of longing as me. He may not be scared, but he is undeniably affected, all because of me. Feeling a bit bolder, I relax my arms against the bed, creating space for him to look at me more closely.
His fingertips, which had been resting on my waist, now explore my stomach, tracing an imaginary path to my full, sensitive breasts. I roll my eyes in pleasure, surprised as his mouth, slick and warm, finally envelops my engorged nipple, his tongue caressing in a way that drives me wild. A soft moan escapes my lips, and I instinctively lift my hips, seeking relief. Jungkook only smiles, pulling my nipples together with his hands, gazing at me like I’m the last meal of his life, emitting satisfied groans with each suck, reveling in my helplessness.
I writhe on the bed, gripping the thick fabric beneath me. It feels so good. So good that I want to cry. A little scream escapes me when he nibbles with his teeth, sending an electric thrill straight to my core. My body pulses, my entrance aching for more stimulation. I whimper, unsure of how to relieve the tension building inside me.
“You’re just so delicious,” he murmurs to himself, and if I weren’t so close, I’m sure I wouldn’t have heard it. “I can smell your sweet scent from here.”
I can’t respond, completely spread out on the bed, clinging to the sheets for dear life. I sigh and close my eyes, nodding in disbelief at my own eagerness, drenched and dripping. I can almost feel my desire trickling down my thighs, saturating my panties. He chuckles, teasing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Can I take off your pants?” he asks, planting soft kisses along my neck. I nod again, but he only watches me, not moving. “I’ll only take them off if you ask nicely.”
“Jungkook… please,” I plead in a hoarse voice, desperation threading through my words. I just need him to touch me.
“What do you want, Y/N?” he asks, that devilish grin returning, as if he knows the turmoil he’s causing me and relishes in my struggle. I whimper, frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but he remains still.
“Please, touch me.”
“I'm already touching you,” he teases, pushing some hair behind my ear. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, and I will.”
“I’m embarrassed,” I admit, covering my face with my hands in shame. I hear a soft chuckle from Jungkook. “Please, I just need you to touch me.”
“Do you want me to touch your pussy?” he asks bluntly. I gulp, my face heating and my heart racing. I nod, trembling in anticipation. “Do you want me to make you cum?”
“Yes… please.” His head nods in agreement, almost as if he finally feels pity for me and is about to grant my last wish.
His long fingers slide down to the waistband of my pants, pulling the fabric down slowly, as if savoring every second. My panties follow, leaving a trail of my excitement connecting the wet fabric to my core, so thoroughly soaked. I shiver at the cold air of the room. His gaze burns into me, observing my vulnerability without shame.
“You’re so beautiful. So perfect,” he says, his eyes locking onto mine. I know he means it; I can hear the sincerity in his voice.
My heart races in my chest, naked before a man for the first time. I can hardly believe the situation I’ve put myself in. My foggy brain, clouded by pleasure and desire, reaches out to his face. My thumb glides over his cheek and lips, a gentle caress, when I realize I haven’t shared an important detail with him.
“Jungkook… I’m a virgin,” I confess in a whisper, afraid that this revelation might change everything. His dark eyes widen slightly, probably from surprise, but he doesn’t judge me or treat me differently. He waits for me to continue, respecting the silence as I gather my thoughts. “I’m sorry... but I don’t feel ready for sex... in fact, I feel like I’m already doing something crazy just being here with you.”
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks gently, his fingers brushing my thigh.
“No.” The word escapes my lips firmly, surprising even myself, a hint of fear lurking beneath my resolve. “Is there something we can do without... well, penetration?”
“Of course,” he smiles. His lips return to mine; our kiss deepens, tongues playing together. “I can lick your pussy if you want.”
“Oh.” My voice falters, unsure how to respond. The first image that flashes in my mind is from when I was fourteen, when a friend confided in me, in the school bathroom, about her experiences with her boyfriend. I remember feeling shocked and terrified, vowing I would never do something like that. My cheeks flush; my mind races with conflicting thoughts because now, in this moment, it doesn’t seem so absurd.
“Do you want to try? I promise you’ll love it,” he assures me, his nose trailing along my jawline. My skin prickles with anticipation as he lowers himself over me.
"I-I do,” I stammer nervously. I freeze on the bed, fingers entangled in his hair as his head moves side to side. My body is completely exposed to his mouth, and there isn’t a single spot he doesn’t linger over. His hands find my breasts, massaging them, his short nails grazing my areola.
“Do you like it when I tease your nipples?” he asks, creating a series of soft sucking noises as his mouth releases from my body. I nod, moaning softly.
“I really do,” I admit, my voice weak and foggy. He’s being so good to me that I can’t help but respond.
Jungkook smiles faintly, continuing his exploration, kissing his way down my body, his lips grazing my stomach, circling his tongue on my skin, igniting shivers and goosebumps. I can’t help but bounce on the bed, lost in the sensations. I hear his muffled laughter as he notices my trembling.
“Open your legs for me?” he requests, his warm hands caressing my thighs. I feel embarrassed and shy, tossing my head back against the bed, unsure of how to respond.
“I’m ashamed,” I admit, frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but I know if I want the pleasure I’ve read about in my romance books, I must be honest with him.
“Y/N…” he murmurs my name, dragging his lips along my hip. He suddenly bites down on my sensitive skin, almost making me jump off the bed again. “You’re so good to me… you’ll cum so beautifully. I promise. Just let me see you.”
“I don’t know…” I whisper hesitantly, the desire coursing through me, battling against my fear.
“Okay, here’s what we’ll do: put my pillows under your head,” he suggests calmly, excitement evident in his tone. I search for his pillow among the bedding chaos and raise my head as he adjusts it, expanding my field of vision.
“Now I’m going to turn off the light and switch on the bedside lamp. Tell me if that helps.”
Jungkook quickly rises and walks to the switch. My face flushes even more as I see him grab his member, long fingers tracing its contours, massaging it gently, groaning softly as he looks back at me lying on the bed before the light goes out. The only illumination comes from the full moon shining through the window. Jungkook approaches me again, flicking on the blue-tinted lamp without haste. I’m captivated, feeling more at ease. My fingers slide almost instinctively over my thighs, pinching my warm skin. I let out a soft moan, feeling shy for being alone.
“Jungkook... Please come,” I ask, hearing another laugh escape him as his body finally sinks onto the bed. His weight settles into the mattress as he positions himself between my legs, pushing my knees apart, leaving me utterly exposed. The blue light casts a calming glow, one I hadn’t felt before, allowing my body to relax even in this vulnerable state.
“Better?”
“Much,” I assure him, closing my eyes waiting for his touch, which comes directly... there.
I follow his movements with my head on the pillow, excitement building as I watch what he’s doing to me. His index and middle fingers gently part the folds of my clit, his thumb brushing against it delicately. A high-pitched moan escapes my lips involuntarily, the kisses and caresses igniting my sensitivity. I can feel the urge to orgasm building with just one of his fingers. He circles slowly before plunging into my entrance, searching for my essence, then returning to tease my sensitive spot. My body writhes, muscles tensing. I’ve never orgasmed before, not even alone with the fantasies my books provided, but now, with him, it’s as if I’m on the brink of something monumental. Jungkook is perfection incarnate. Oh, my God.
“Your clit is perfect, so small and swollen,” he whispers in my ear, lowering his body until he’s completely lying down. His breath dances over my stomach, sending shivers through me. “I can’t wait to taste it.”
“Jungkook…” I moan, reaching for his dark hair. I can’t form any more words as his lips find my vulva. My body contracts, warm liquid spilling from my entrance. I open my mouth, eyes closing in bliss. “Oh! Jungkook!”
His fingers part my delicate lips, exposing me further. His tongue glides between my folds, rubbing my pulsating clit. I tremble and convulse, hips undulating for more contact, biting my lip to suppress the urge to scream his name. His lips envelop my swollen bud, his tongue swirling in slow, tantalizing motions, pushing me deeper into delirium. I can no longer think or reason, my eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
To heighten the pleasure, two of his fingers–ring and middle–enter me gently, sending me spiraling. I moan and sigh, knowing I won’t survive this intensity much longer. He quickens the rhythm of his mouth, pushing his fingers deeper, working me with deliberate care. I watch in sheer delight as he drives deeper inside me. It doesn’t hurt at all; I’m so wet that he slides in effortlessly, a pleasure so overwhelming it feels almost fatal. His fingers curve inside me, searching for a spot I didn’t even know existed, but that sends me into a state of pure bliss.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, voice thick and darkened with desire.
I nod, pushing his head back to my vulva again. I don’t want him to talk. I don't want him to stop. He chuckles and licks my clit again, withdrawing his fingers only to plunge them back in. Suddenly, I feel something different—a warmth spreading through my body, a tension building within me. Whatever he’s doing is working. His fingers go in and out, massaging a magical spot that sends waves of pleasure coursing through me.
“That’s it! Just like that…” I whisper, trembling, growing wetter. The warmth in my belly intensifies, and my eyes well up with tears, feeling the relief and pleasure approaching. “Don’t stop! Please…”
He doesn’t stop; on the contrary, he grunts against my intimacy, adding a vibration that stirs my very soul. His saliva drips from my pussy onto the already messy sheets, creating an erotic scene that would have embarrassed me before, but now I can’t care less. Not when I’m so close. Not when I feel this way, on cloud nine. My moans grow louder, fingers gripping his hair, urging him closer.
“I’m going to… Jungkook!” I gasp, breathless, my hips moving instinctively. His fingers match my rhythm, sloppy fingering inside of me, creating an erotic melody that echoes through the room with every thrust. I erupt with a force I never anticipated, surprise flooding me with no warning. My brows knit together, my legs clamping around his head. My heart races, feeling warmth spread through me, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. Sweat coats my body, and the ecstatic sensation fills me completely.
I collapse back onto the bed, my muscles going limp, tremors subsiding until Jungkook finally pulls his lips away from me. His chin, mouth and cheek glistening with my excitement.
“Fuck, Y/N!” he curses, climbing over my stomach and grasping my neck to kiss me again. “Are you okay?”
“Humm,” is all I can manage to mumble, gasping for air, pulling him in for yet another deep kiss.
I taste myself on his tongue, a vivid reminder of everything that just happened. Even though embarrassment washes over me, I don’t care. I wrap my weak legs around his waist, pulling him on top of me. I circle my arms around his shoulders, my breasts pressing against his chest. He growls and moans softly near my ear, and I’m so addicted to him, to his taste and body, that the previous orgasm has done nothing to quell my desire to be near him.
“It was so good,” I confess, genuinely happy to indulge in such madness and not regret it afterward. This is one of those moments that etches itself into your memory, one you know you’ll never forget, no matter how much time passes.
“I’m glad you liked it,” he chuckles, pride evident in his voice as he takes in the state he’s left me in.
As I look into his eyes, I brush a strand of hair from his forehead. I touch the metallic piercing with my fingertips, feeling the coolness against my skin. “Do you want me to touch you?” the question slips out, almost shyly.
“You really don’t have to. I’m fine,” he replies, his voice low.
“But you are… I mean…” I argue, glancing downward, involuntarily. His member rests between us, hard and a reddish pink, almost painful to behold. I feel a pang of sympathy; his grunt morphs into a deeper moan when my thigh brushes against him accidentally. “Doesn’t it hurt? I mean, doesn’t it?”
“It hurts a little,” he admits, brushing a strand of my hair back with a smile. “But you don’t have to force yourself to do anything. I’m fine.”
“But… what if I want to?” I question, my face burning with embarrassment. My breath quickens and becomes erratic.
“Do you want to?” he asks, and for the first time this night, he seems just as shy as I am. I nod silently. If I’m here with him, I want to explore everything that comes to mind. I know we may not have another night like this. Maybe I’ll be a spinster forever, never experiencing what I’m feeling right now again. A voice in my head urges me to savor this, even if just for a few hours, to pretend nothing exists except for the two of us. “Alright, then you can touch me.”
“Can you lie down? I think that would be better,” I whisper, feeling uncertain. I don’t look confident or sexy at all, I’m painfully aware of it, but the fear of making a mistake looms over me. Jungkook complies, leaning back against the bed and adjusting the pillow I was using under his head. I sigh, assessing his body. He looks like a god, glistening with sweat, muscles taut beneath his soft, pale skin.
The truth is, I have to restrain myself from touching him with unbridled desire, and for the first time in my life, I wish I had more experience for this moment. I nervously bite my lower lip, formulating an idea. I start with his mouth, brushing our lips together lightly. His warm breath mingles with mine as I cup his cheek and kiss him. I go slow, feeling my heart race faster. I run my fingers through his hair, tracing his neck and chest, amazed that I can touch him however I want.
“Do you want to sit on top of me?” he asks, locking eyes with me. His dark gaze captivates me more and more.
“Can I?” I ask quietly. His eyebrow raises, and he chuckles.
“Of course you can! It’s what I want the most,” he says, gripping my hips. He pulls me close, and I open my legs, accommodating him between them. I sit on his lap, resting my hands on his stomach. “Are you sure about this? Do you really want to do this?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Then I’m all yours,” he assures me with a warm smile, holding my waist. The thought that, even if just for this moment, he is mine to do with as I wish, sends shivers down my spine.
I focus on his member, knowing that, like me, he must be more sensitive there. A drop of precum leaks from the tip, and I use my thumb to wipe it, spreading the liquid around his length. Jungkook’s face contorts, his eyebrows knitting together, almost as if he’s in pain, but I know it’s purely pleasure. I grip him more firmly, examining his smooth, delicious skin. I thrust slowly, studying his reaction closely. He writhes and moans again, gasping for air. I feel exhilarated just watching him.
“Use your pussy to wet my cock,” he whispers, instructing me. I feel heat rise in my cheeks, not quite understanding his words. He just smiles, pulling me closer and lifting me above his member. “Like this... just like this. Now go back and forth. Make my cock nice and wet.”
“L-like this?” I ask, moaning, feeling a fire ignite within me every time I rub against him. I don’t know who’s enjoying it more, me or him. I pull my hair back and place my hand on his chest, rolling my hips.
“You’re so wet…! God!” Jungkook groans, rolling his eyes.
One of his hands slides down to my butt, squeezing and massaging, and an involuntary smile escapes my lips as he seems just as lost in pleasure as I am. A strong, unexpected slap lands on my right side. I moan in surprise but don’t stop moving my hips, feeling my creamy essence coating him with each thrust. Jungkook growls, biting his lower lip, gazing at me with an intensity that would terrify me if it weren’t for the situation.
“Can you cum again like this?” he asks, gritting his teeth. I can only nod uncontrollably, using the head of his cock against my button. I lower my body a bit, seeking a more pleasurable angle; my legs burning from the intensity of the movements. “I’m gonna cum too, fuck! Keep going… Don’t stop, please! Don’t fucking stop!”
“Jungkook…!” I gasp, kissing his neck, on that mole I always wanted to taste. He moans louder, tightening his grip on my waist in a way that I know will leave marks by morning. My tongue trails over the lobe of his ear, sucking and creating a path of saliva down to his nipple. His growl deepens, and he thrusts against me, creating a rhythm I can’t bring myself to halt.
With every movement, the sound of skin against skin grows louder, filling the room with a symphony of sloppy and slick sounds as our bodies connect. The heat in my belly rises, and my clit throbs with urgency. I whimper and lower my head, fully aware of what that means. My heart races, and my legs move faster, using Jungkook’s slick member to reach climax once more.
“Oh my God! My…” I whisper, feeling the sensitivity peak. Jungkook holds my head in place, eyes locked with mine, an electric connection that’s utterly intoxicating. My muscles move on pure instinct; I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Everything explodes again, as powerful as the first time. My body contracts, my essence flows, but I don’t dare stop, knowing that Jungkook is close too, teetering on the edge.
“Please Jungkook, please.” I plead in desperation, my voice shaky. His skin prickles, and his body flushes. Despite my inexperience, I know the effects I have on him are as powerful as his on me.
He growls hoarsely, eyes closing. His flushed face contorts, breathing halting for a moment. He curses under his breath and groans until he finally releases, soaking my belly and his own with a long, shuddering orgasm. His moan is breathtaking, his mouth opens, hands gripping my body. He exhales after a while, face sweaty, pupils dilated. The most beautiful sight I’ve ever witnessed. I can’t help but laugh, collapsing weakly on him.
“Holy shit, it’s been ages since I’ve cum like that,” he admits breathlessly, wrapping his arms around me.
“I have to tell you something…” I lift my chin, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. I smile awkwardly, but determined to be honest. “Those were my first two orgasms ever.”
“Really?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise. I'm shy, nodding my head. His piercing catches the blue light, so captivating that I can’t help but reach out to touch it again. “I guess I’m really good, then.” he jokes, proudly.
“No, you're not,” I roll my eyes, laughing along with him. His chest rises and falls beneath me, moving my head gently. My ear rests over his heart, so close I can hear every rapid beat, lulling me into a state of calm. “I really want to sleep.”
“Me too,” he whispers tiredly, running his fingers through my hair. I moan softly, savoring the affection. “Before you sleep, you should use the bathroom.”
“I don’t want to,” I grumble. My legs feel like jelly, and my body is completely spent. There’s no way I can get up from this bed, even though I know I’m a mess, all sweaty, dirty and smelling like him.
"Alright," he chuckles at my stubbornness. "Do you want some water? I can also bring a wet cloth to clean you up."
"Yes... please." I close my eyes even before he fully rises, slipping into a state of blissful unconsciousness, utterly exhausted from our night.
My mom is gonna kill me.
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s-ecret. yūta x afab!reader, ﹙외설﹚ drabble
CONTENT WARNING — college setting, suggestive content & images, mdni! 17+ content below.
SYNOPSIS — wherein the classroom’s good boy, okkotsu yūta, finds out the quiet girl’s secret… your secret.
ZUYOO’S NOTES — not proofread, ignore timestamps, enjoy reading my loves <3 click the “s” in s-ecret to see the masterlist!!
yūta was known for being the classroom’s good boy, the purest person in the room. and you were—not known. at all? maybe. but you liked it that way.
you aren’t known; in a nice way. they see you, greet you whenever they get a chance, then go back to whatever it is that they were doing. you could say that you were lucky with your classmates.
yūta is a class representative, so he’s one of the few that greets you by the door. he’s also the one in charge of knowing his classmates’ whereabouts.
at the beginning of the year, you attempted to skip class—but to no avail when yūta found you coincidentally when you were about to leave. he thought you were lost and offered to lead you back to the classroom, and you had no choice but to oblige.
yūta is usually the one that helps you in general. like that one time where you dropped your bag and caused tons of your items to scatter all over the place. students from other classes just stared at you as you picked up your items, but yūta didn’t hesitate to give you a hand when he saw a glimpse of the scene. he usually tutors you as well, in classes that you don’t do well in.
still, you get stares and whispers on a daily basis, it’s not like you could avoid it when you look like a typical nerd from a western high school movie. thick glasses, hair always tied, carrying books everywhere, no friends… plus, you may look like a typical nerd but you’re actually pretty dumb to be considered a one. since it is just a persona you present in public— so yeah, there will definitely be no escaping from gossip of how you look miserable and lonely.
though, they’re right. it does get lonely sometimes, which is probably the reason why you kept interacting with people… in social media, that is. your classmates? bearable. people from other classes? absolutely not. they don’t deserve a second of your time.
but why social media? were you seeking for attention? validation? no, not really. more like—ego, of some sort. the feeling of posting yourself and getting a boatload of compliments is so… accomplishing.
you can confidently post yourself all over social media and it wouldn’t matter… because nobody knew that it was you. and it makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. though, it could get in your head sometimes—decided, it would be better to simply stay friendless in real life. and so you continued to hide behind your quiet nerd girl persona.
your attitude and looks in social media compared to the persona you present to everyone in real life are immaculately contradictory. which made you feel confident that not a soul would know that you’re just another girl in the internet, selling herself for a mere ego boost. but oh, were you so wrong.
and as if the soul leaving your body was suddenly sucked back in, you snapped out of the trance you were in and froze.
how did he know? did someone find out? or did i just mishear him say it?
you panicked while keeping a straight face, but your facade faltered, then and there, when he continued to speak.
what does he want? how can i assure that his mouth is kept shut? this was only supposed to be a tutor session… how did it turn to this direction?
there was a train of thought running through your mind, but yūta was quick to change the subject back into the previous topic you were discussing before he dropped the massive bomb you’ve been trying to hide.
so quick-witted. impressive… and scary.
yūta okkotsu may be called the most innocent person in the room, but not even a single person in that room can read him. always a step ahead of everyone and is humble about it that everyone simply forgot that he was a genius. he was far too knowledgeable to be pure.
he used your weakness to simply gain your attention. which then makes you question, what else are you capable of, yūta okkotsu?
cont.
—rbs & comments r highly appreciated!!
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