#right slot and then move it over to the other slot and then do the same with the rest of my devices and if i fucked up then i would have to

[sheerfreesia007]

Folded Up With You

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Word count: 1,353

Content warnings: Soft smut, MDNI, Fluff, cursing

Summary: Seungmin comes home after his vocal lessons and finds you in a slightly indecent state as you do laundry. You absolutely drive him wild and he can’t control himself when it comes to you.

The smell of his favorite laundry detergent greets his nose as he opens your shared apartment door causing him to sigh tiredly as a happy warm smile slips onto his face. Seungmin has just come back from finishing his vocal lessons and he’s ready to spend the rest of his day with you being lazy on the couch. But as he spots all the folded piles of laundry laid out on the couch he knows that his plans will have to wait for a moment. His eyes widen slightly at the massive amount of laundry that you’ve not only washed and dried but also folded in neat piles for the two of you. He hadn’t realized that it had gotten to be so much since he’s been busy with his schedules.

Just then he spots you walk into the living room with a laundry basket on your hip singing a happy tune dressed in what looks like the shirt that he wore to bed last night. Desire grips Seungmin tightly in it’s grip as he stares at you from the door as you bend over at the waist and set the laundry basket on the floor. He gets an eyeful of your naked lower half as you grab a piece of clothing from the basket and straighten up to begin folding it while the television plays in the background Looking down at himself he rolls his eyes as he feels how instantly hard he got at just seeing you in his shirt and then your little flash of indecency further cemented how much he wanted you right this instant.

He moves slightly to step out of his shoes and into his slippers before he’s moving quietly around you not wanting to alert you that he was home yet. Coming up behind you he grabs you around the waist and you cry out in surprise while he drags your body back against his and grinds himself into you. He moans loudly into your ear and you gasp as you feel his jean covered hardness against your naked core.

“You do this often?” he asks sultrily in your ear. He bends his head down towards your neck and nips at the skin behind your ear for a second which causes you to shiver in his arms before moaning softly.

“Do what Minnie?” you gasp out at him as his tongue lathes against your neck slowly. Seungmin has never felt desire rush at him so quickly as it does now after seeing you in his shirt folding laundry. There was just something about you being at home waiting for him while doing chores for the household. And the fact that you’re wearing nothing underneath the shirt drives him absolutely wild.

“Wear my clothes while doing laundry?” he asks softly as his hips grind up against your ass slotting himself between your thighs.while beginning to repeatedly grind against you. Heat is starting to course through him and he knows that you’re feeling just as turned on as him when your soft gasps start to fill the air. 

“Sometimes, especially when it’s this much because I can’t keep all of it in the laundry room so I have to fold it out here. Other times I do laundry naked.” you confess to him and Seungmin groans loudly as the image of you naked folding the laundry fills his mind.

“Fuck baby.” he groans out as he slams his hips up into yours causing you squeak at the movement His hands start to move over your body towards your core and when his fingers dip in he has to grit his teeth to calm himself down at how wet you are. “I need you baby. Can I have you? Please? Fuck I need you, you’re being such a good housewife for me. Doing my laundry while half naked.” he begins to babble and you whine softly at his words while his hips continue to grind into you and his fingers coat themselves in your slick as he plays with you. One of your hands comes up to grip at the back of his head and you turn your head to capture his lips with yours.

Seungmin moves you both to the back of the couch and leans you over the back of it. “Please baby. Let me fuck you. I swear I’ll make you feel so good. Gotta take care of my perfect housewife when she does the chores.” he pleads with you

“Fuck Minnie, you found a new kink here baby?” you ask over your shoulder breathlessly as he continues to grind his hips into yours. You whimper when you hear his fly unzipper and when his hardness presses along the curve of your ass under his shirt your knees buckle slightly but you’re able to catch yourself on the back of the couch.

”This is gonna be quick baby. I’m too turned on to go slow. I need to fuck you.” He tells you honestly and you just moan in response. You feel his hardness glide against your wet core and whimper softly before he’s slamming into you. Your breath is knocked out of you as you back arches and your hands grip the back of the couch tightly. Seungmin smirks when you choke on another gasp when he’s fully seated inside of you, your walls clenching and unclenching around him making him feel pleasure radiated throughout him. “Fuck baby.” He groans out loudly to you and you cry out as he begins to thrust against you at a fast pace.

Pleasure is coursing through the both of you as you both move against each other. Seungmin’s hips press yours in the back of the couch as his hands slip underneath his shirt that you’re wearing to cup your breasts tightly in his hands. He nuzzles his face into your neck while groaning loudly.

”You’re so perfect for me. Wanna make you a real housewife.” He mumbles into your skin as he punctuates each word with a harsh thrust of his hips. Your walls clench around at his confession and he moans loudly at the feeling. “You like the sound of that baby? Wanna be my housewife?” He asks while panting for air.

”Wife.” You gasp out as your head falls back on his shoulder and he furrows his brow at you.

”What?” He asks never stopping his movements as he leans further over your back to hear what you’re saying.

”I want to be your wife Minnie.” You whine out to him and Seungmin moans in a broken tone as he grips your hips tightly before slamming himself as far into you as he can before releasing inside of you.

”Oh fuck.” He groans out and you cry out loudly as your own orgasm flows over you at the feeling of his own orgasm.

”Minnie, Minnie!” You cry out and he quickly wraps his arms around you tightly as his hips buck into you in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

”I got you baby. I got you.” He promises as let’s you ride out your orgasm with him buried inside of you. “That’s it sweetheart. I got you.” He coos at you before slowly releasing you to lean against the couch while you catch your breath. He’s still buried inside of you when you shiver feeling his fingers graze down your spine. “Wanna be my wife huh?” He asks sultrily and you shiver again at his question. “What about the mother of my children too? Wanna be that?” He asks eagerly and you whimper when you feel him twitch inside of you.

”All of it. I wanna be all of that for you.” You gasp out as you press your hands into the back of the couch and lift your upper body off the couch.

”Good girl. My perfect girl.” He coos at you before suddenly bucking up into you again making you cry out desperately. “Let’s go for round two and then we’ll talk specifics.” He says to you softly making it sound like a promise that you were eager to keep with him.

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek

[starlost-maniac]

Why Her? - Ch 6

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, sexting, Minho is a tease

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem!reader

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"If anyone, I'd prefer it to be you." Smiling up at him, you pull him back down for a kiss.

You can feel his cock twitch when you say that. He groans into your mouth and slowly starts to lift your shirt off you, pulling away long enough to pull your shirt off you. Tossing your shirt somewhere in your room, he reaches between you and the door, unhooking your bra, letting it drop to the ground. His hands explore the bare expanse of your skin, gingerly touching your breasts which makes you gasp.

"Fucking hell, kitten." He growls against your lips. You reach down and push your shorts and panties off your hips, letting them fall. He kisses down your body, taking his time to explore your skin, giving extra attention to your breasts. You feel him mumble out 'so perfect' against your skin, before kissing down your stomach till he's kneeling in front of you. He grabs one of your legs and hooks your knee over his shoulder, leaning in to press soft kisses to your mound. He pulls back and looks up at you.

"Are you sure you want this, kitten? It's ok if you don't." He gently rubs your thigh, his eyes full of sincerity.

"I'm sure. I want you, Lee Minho." You smile at him as you place your hand on his cheek. He smiles back at you before leaning in, licking a stripe along your folds. Your hand moves from his cheek to his hair as a soft moan slips past your lips. He groans softly against your skin as he licks between your folds, licking your clit slowly. You gasp and grab his hair. He looks up at you as he licks around your clit more, tongue traveling down to your entrance.

"Fuck, kitten…you taste so good.." he mumbles against you as he slides his tongue into you before going back up to your clit. He slides his middle finger into you as he gently sucks on your clit. You moan his name softly, your head falling back with a thud on your door. Your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure as he slowly fingers you. He slowly adds a second finger and you feel something in your belly building. You grab his head with your other hand as you moan a bit louder.

"Ahh..Lee Know.." you groan, arching your back a bit off the door. He squeezes your thigh gently with the hand that's holding it in place, sliding a third finger inside you, he could feel how tight you were and it spurs him on more. He groans against your clit as he fingers you. Curling his fingers a little, he finds that spongy spot inside you that has you crumble in his hold. You clench around his fingers as you cum, moaning his name loud.

"Good girl." He says as he continues to lick and suck on your clit, fingers still moving until you come down from your high. He takes his fingers out of you and lets go of your clit, popping his fingers in his mouth to clean them. He takes your leg off his shoulder carefully, standing up to press himself against you again, pinning you to the door. He leans down to catch your lips in a sensual kiss, making you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. He pulls away and smiles down at you.

"How do you feel, kitten?" He pecks your lips. "Do you think you have enough energy to take me? Or do you want to wait?"

"I want you, please." You stare at him with puppy eyes. He smirks and chuckles softly. He nods and whispers out an 'ok' before he carefully picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you to the bed and gently lays you down, climbing over you before he slots himself between your legs. He lays himself on you, keeping most of his weight on his arms. He stares down into your eyes before kissing you softly. You can feel how hard he is as his clothed cock sits right against your core. He pulls back, placing a quick peck to your lips before looking at you again.

"I'm going to be gentle. Please, please, kitten, if at any point you want me to stop, you say something." He places his forehead against yours. You nod and tell him 'ok' before he sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it somewhere on your floor. He takes his pants and boxers off just as fast, quickly settling back between your legs. You can feel his tip against you as he slowly strokes his cock, watching you to see if you change your mind.

Seeing that you aren't pushing him away, he places one hand on your hip, the other holding his hard member as he starts to push into you. Your brows scrunch up as you aren't used to the stretch. He stops for a moment as he watches you, his own brows furrowed. You whine softly when he stops and you can feel him twitch inside you. He gives you a moment before he continues to push into you until his full length is inside you. Groaning from how tight you feel around him, he gently rubs your belly where his cock would be inside you, trying to ease some of the ache.

"How are you feeling, kitten? You doing ok?" He watches you, feeling you wrap your legs around his hips.

"I'm ok." Your eyes open to look into his. He watches you, still worried. "I promise I'm ok. We're already this far, please don't stop." You whine out the last part and he closes his eyes tight.

"Fuck.." he whispers before he moves his hand from your belly to your hip. He starts to pull out and slowly thrust into you, watching you for any discomfort. Your brows are still scrunched, in pain or pleasure, he isn't sure.

"It may be..my first time.." you moan softly. "But I'm not made of glass..Minho." He groans out when you say his actual name.

"I know, kitten. But I don't want to hurt you anyway." His thumbs rub circles into your hips.

"It'll be worth it though." You open your eyes again, a glint of mischief there. He laughs softly.

"Ok, kitten. I still won't be too rough. Maybe another time." He thrusts into you a little harder and you gasp softly. He slowly starts to fuck into you, watching your face before his eyes flick down to where his cock disappears inside of you. Lee Know groans quietly, gripping your hips a little harder. He lets go of your hips to lean over you, one hand gently grips your right breast, his other hand holding him up. His lips press against your left breast, kissing along your skin. Your own hands end up on his back and head.

"Ahh.." You moan out as he licks your nipple slowly, circling the hardening nub with his tongue, his thumb and index finger gently pinching and rolling the other. He keeps a steady pace, making your pleasure his top priority right now. He sucks your nipple into his mouth and moans softly when you tug on his hair. You can feel that tightening in your belly again as you clench around his length.

He pulls away from your breasts, wanting to watch you fall apart on his cock. He sits up and holds your hips again. He fucks into you a little faster, feeling his own release building up.

"Can you cum again for me, kitten?" He says softly as he fucks into you fast. Just as his question ends, you're arching your back as you cum, your hands reaching above you to grip your pillows. He groans as he cums deep in you. "Shit.." he whispers, you both breathing hard. He gently rubs your belly and sides with both hands, waiting for your bodies to relax. He slowly slides out of you and kisses your head.

"Let's get you to the bath. Get you cleaned up." He carefully picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. Carefully he sets you down to start the tub. As he's moving around your bathroom, you finally get a good look at his length, and you can tell why it was such a stretch. "You're staring, kitten." He chuckles when your face flushes. He picks you up again and sets you in the tub.

"Are you going to join me?" You look up at him from the warmth of the water.

"Let me go and change your sheets first. I'll be right back." He kisses your forehead and stands up, padding out of your bathroom to the bedroom. He strips your bed of the sheets and looks through your closet for clean bedding. Once he finds a sheet, he puts it on your bed before going back to the bathroom. When you see him come back in, you move forward in your tub so he can sit behind you. Once he's comfortable, you lean back against him, his knees on either side of you.

"Kitten?" He kisses the back of your head. You hum out a response. "I..I didn't mean to um..I didn't mean to cum in you." He has you lean forward so he can gently massage your shoulders and neck. You laugh softly.

"It's ok, Minho." Oh, how he loves hearing his name on your lips. "I'm on birth control. So I don't mind." You moan softly when he massages a certain spot in the back of your neck. You feel him twitch against your back and you turn around to look at him.

"What?" He chuckles, his normal smirk back on his face. "You make beautiful noises and my body just reacts." You laugh out and playfully splash water towards him.

Once you're both cleaned up, he drains your tub and gets out, grabbing a towel for you and helps you get up before he gently dries you off. He pats your ass softly before pointing towards your room. You smile before going off to your room. He dries off and follows you soon after.

"Do you want to sleep like this, kitten, or do you want to sleep with clothes on?" He asks, coming up behind you.

"I don't mind this?" You lean back into him when he wraps his arms around you. You feel the rumble of his chest when he chuckles. He kisses the back of your head softly.

"Go get comfortable. I'm going to go clean up the living room that we forgot about. I'll be back soon. Ok?" He gently squeezes you before letting go. You climb into bed, the coldness of the sheets making you shiver a bit as Lee Know leaves your room he grabs your phone and cleans up the few things that were forgotten, making sure to turn your tv off as well, before joining you in bed.

——

This continues for a few weeks, you and Lee Know hanging outside of the company. Sometimes you're with all the boys. You both decided to keep your relationship quiet for a while, due to him being an idol. He didn't want the other members to know yet either, as they were preparing for a comeback, and he wanted to be sure they weren't distracted, which you understood, and agreed on.

You were hanging out with the boys in the studio, another one of your days off. You were sat between I.N and Felix, the older of the two showing you cute cat videos he came across. You and I.N were cooing over how cute the videos were. Seungmin still kept an eye on you around his friends, not really sure if you were seeing any of them or not. The only one he was sure of, was Felix, as he said before he only saw you as a sister.

Seungmin has tried to pry, wanting to know who his baby sister was seeing, but you managed to avoid letting it slip. You had gotten a few more things the members had designed, even though they could've lifted them to you, to make it seem less suspicious that you only wore the ring Lee Know designed. The boys ended up discussing the upcoming comeback and tour, talking about the locations and everything.

You weren't sure if the company was going to have you go, as you haven't done their makeup for the tour yet. Chan assured you that you were going to go, as you're one of the best makeup artists they've had. Your cheeks turn pink at the compliment.

"It's true, Y/n. We've seen the comments on social media about how well our makeup looks lately. STAY is really impressed." Seungmin says, the group all agree. You cover your face, cheeks burning as you blush more. You aren't used to compliments and end up letting out a whine. Most of the group coos at the complaint. Lee Know closes his eyes, trying to will himself not to get hard. Eventually he gets up with the excuse of needing the bathroom.

"Be quick, hyung. Lunch will be here soon." Changbin says, looking at his phone. Lee Know makes a sound of confirmation before the door shuts behind him. Your phone dings in your lap, you look at it and see it’s from Lee Know.

[Image]

'You made me hard in front of the members, kitten.'

'And because I can't fuck you infront of them, I have to take care of it myself'

[Image]

The first picture was of him in the bathroom down the hall, his hand holding his bulge through his pants, emphasizing how hard he is. The second picture is of him with his pants off his hip, hard leaking cock in his grip.

You are careful to make sure that the two men on either side of you don't see the pictures their hyung sent you.

'You're coming over to my place tonight, kitten. I need you'

Your cheeks burn a bit as you read his texts and at the pictures. Seungmin sees and watches you, brow raised.

"That your mysterious boyfriend, Y/n?" He teases. You look at him as your cheeks flush more. Ding.

[Video]

You can't watch the video in front of everyone, so you just lock your phone and put it in your lap, not breaking eye contact with your brother.

"I'll take that as a yes." He laughs. Lee Know walks back in just then. "When will I get to meet him? I see how much happier you are, and I want to meet the guy that brought so much light to my sister's life."

The members coo at him, not used to hearing the puppy be so sweet. He waves them off.

"We have noticed you've been a lot happier, too, Y/n." Hyunjin says. "I do agree with Seungmin though. We'd like to meet him sometime." A staff member knocks on the studio door, opening it to deliver the food that Han had ordered for everyone. Chan gets up to grab the bags, thanking them. You're glad for the distraction. Seungmin letting it go for now.

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@honeyybbuubblleess @tenshimara @yaorzu-blog @ssunglver @hyunjinstolemyheart @skzsmylife @cookiesandcreammy @skz-ot8-stay

[suusoh]

I go to sleep. I wake up. I think about if Johan somehow practiced being ambidextrous this would be the worst thing in the world for you, especially if he never chose to reveal it. cry. then go 2 sleep again.

tw: noncon-ish undertones. can be read as just overstim but gonna put it here just to be sure.

-

Because Johan fingering you is already one of the most excruciating activities with him that can lasts for hours.

Something that's always done with the purpose of reducing you to a crying, squirming, mess. Your legs kicking and writhing, trying to fight their way out to escape another exhausting hour of trying to accommodate the eager fingers pressing everywhere in side of you. It reaches a point where you're barely hanging on, slipping in and out of consciousness the longer this keeps going.

But suddenly— relief, a gift from some deity above, answering your calls. A sign that this "session" is coming to an end.

Johan's hand begins to cramp up. His own body also seemingly having pity on you and putting a physical stop to him at this point.

And it's almost enough to make you cry from just how thankful you are. Finally...finally. Happy little tears, ready to spill over and replace the agonizing ones you've had stained on your cheek for the last few minutes. You let out a sigh of relief as he finally withdraws his hand, shuddering as you feel it slide out, leaving you all alone and empty— which is a good thing of course. It means he's actually done and you can get your much needed rest.

You slump back into his chest, relaxed and faintly picking up the sound, no... the feel, of Johan's soft laughter thrumming against your back.

He leans down to plant a small kiss to your forehead. Moving his tired, cramped-up, hand away from your mound.

He gives his right hand a little shake to calm the nerves, then slides it up your thigh. Gently, lifting your leg to keep you still spread apart for his left hand to take its place.

His-

His what?

You look down, seeing his left hand move into position. Slotting into where its predecessor was, just seconds ago. His right hand still guiding your thigh.

And something akin to fight-or-flight response makes your body suddenly jerk in his hold. A realisation. A sign you do not want. Taken in the form of Johan's left hand gently hovering over your still too sensitive, and still too overwhelmed sex.

You keep looking at his hand. It's- It's a hand that's been on standby this entire time. Doing absolutely nothing while the other was at work.

Oh no, no, no you can't do this. You can't. You can't—!

His hand, it's all too new, all too unused, all too—

You cry and Johan smiles as he slides the first finger in.

— all too ready to pick up where you both left off.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Roll for Initiative--Part 2

This is a quick and dirty mini series. Will have a full arch but may not be the usual work. I will write a proper series/fic for Joe. Please enjoy! @hoodharlow is getting her flowers as deserved.

Series Masterlist

______________

Joe laughs, settling next to you. "You're sure this is okay?"

The screen in front is different than the sheet in his hands. There's more menus and tabs. Your icon is highlighted in green, circling around and around on monitor while your laptop screen reflects the Zoom call. Your camera is off and you're muted and so is Jeremiah, who in the Zoom chat, messaged that he'd be 'afk, getting water and snacks'.

"I have explicit permission," you return, sliding another pencil towards Joe.

During dinner Joe asked if he could try his hand at playing a session as a way to test if he actually wanted to risk embarrassment to the entire offensive line of the Bengals. One text to Jeremiah to see if you could sub in a friend to play during one of the regular sessions--comprised of some of your college friends and two of Jeremiah's coworkers--as your character lands both of you here, three weeks later.

"Still, I feel like I'm intruding or something," Joe returns, slipping the pencil behind his ear.

"It's all good. I won't make any moves in combat until you say so."

"Can you explain the difference between spell slots and cantrip? A crossbow and the hammer seem straightforward, but I'm still confused."

Your laptop dings and you notice Kimberly's joined the call. "Oh, I'm all alone," she laughs. "But hi, if you can hear me."

Your fingers work over the keys, Am here. With the Joe right now and we'll be ready in like two minutes.

You watch her read over the text and then throw a thumbs up in view of the camera. "No worries," she smiles. "Excited to meet this guy. Hi, Joe too. If you can hear me."

Joe snickers. "So, I'm guessing they don't know it's me."

You shake your head. "Not quite."

Joe says hi, you type in return to Kimberly.

You can't recall a time in college that Joe hung out with your friends, though maybe once you saw each other in the dinning halls. But you don't bring him up in conversation much, now with star status, you do what you can to prevent too much attention to yourself and anything that could cause problems for Joe. Training camp, the season, and now his off seasons are jam packed so you let it be, and take the text messages and FaceTimes when they come. It's easier this way. Though you do miss hanging out with him, you understand the busy schedule.

It's not lost on you that he's here, in your tiny one bedroom apartment, squeezed in tight at your dining room table--shoulder to shoulder, but you're not thinking about that--when he could be elsewhere. When he was in Australia, when he was in Paris, when he was in New Orleans, he still texted you. He still cared.

But now's not the time. Now you have to focus on prepping him in the sliver of minutes you have.

"The difference between spells and cantrips, uh, let's see if I can explain this in a way that makes sense. Spells basically have a costs. You can only do them a limited number of times and typically you have to have all the ingredients," you say pointing out on the larger screen the required components underneath each spell. "Another way to think about it is that spell use a lot of energy and when in battle, once all the extra energy for spells is used, all the slots are used up, you have to rest to get that energy back. Depending on how long you rest will tell you how many spells slots you get. Cantrips don't take much energy at all, very minimal and so you can use them over and over and over again in combat with little wear and tear."

It's just starting to cross over his face--understanding. But his brows are still knitted together. "That sort of makes sense, I think."

"Hmm, think about it like this. You have to use more energy when the pocket collapse right in order not to get sacked, or to make that long throw and go for the long pass, right? Think big explosive plays where you're scrambling either for an opening or to make every yard count."

Joe nods, laughing a little. "Yeah. Those would be spells, I take it?"

"Exactly. Now compare that to dump passes, or run plays. You don't have to expend too much energy to do that. You take the snap, hand the ball off and then basically get out of dodge right?"

"Those are cantrips," he returns, face brightening with the smile. "Got it."

"And I know football is much more complicated that that, but in lamest terms."

"No, no, I appreciate it. I'm sure spells and cantrips are much more complicated than what you're explaining right now. But I got it. Just as long as you handle all the lore."

Two more dings are heard. Jeremiah returns to the computer, his voice bouncing from your speakers. You nod at Joe. "Lore is what I do, baby. All day, every day."

Joe's laughter echoes in your ears.

Joe's not sure what he expected. Maybe he anticipated a countdown, a heads up. It never comes though. There's only the shock.

In all the laughing, he'd turned his attention back to the pages in front of him. His eyes flicker over the words, Sacred Flame, and how many d6's of damage are incurred by the weapons. He doesn't know what Common means as a language, but he nearly makes a joke about the rapper until he hears the gasps. The collective shock and he looks up.

The camera's on now, his face reflecting back at him and surrounded on the tiny Zoom square are faces he's seen really only in passing and in Instagram grids. "Hi," he waves. "Thanks for letting me join."

"What the fuck?" Kimberly gasps. Joe catches the glimpse of her Bengals t-shirt in the preview box, not his number, but when Joe spots the number 1 printed onto the shirt, the top of it decorated with Always and the bottom says Open. His chest swells with a little bit of pride. It's a fan made shirt, but now, he sort of wants one too.

"Agh!" Someone shouts and then immediately mutes themself, Aryanna reads the text book on Zoom. The only box that's muted. The name rings familiar and when Joe studies her face for just a second more, it clicks, your old freshman year roommate. Her face is framed differently with the short pixie cut rather than her long waves from college. Her hands are slapped over her mouth, but her shoulder shake just a little in the frame.

"Oh, well, welcome," Jeremiah finally stutters out.

"You didn't tell us it was the Joe you were talking about from college was Joe fucking Burrow," Kimberly screeches. "I would not have worn this," she hisses, holding the shirt up between her forefinger and thumb as she does, "if I had of known."

"Oops," you shrug. "Slipped my mind I guess."

Two other guys are clearly starstruck, slack jaws and eyes wide as they stare into their screens. Joe has to wonder if part of your lack of transparency is for this comedic outbursts amongst the group. A couple more voices have pipped in with Holy shit, holy fucking shit, and Babe! Pinch me. No, no, you gotta pinch me right now, because I am fucking dreaming.

And it is a little funny, to watch the group blink through the shock and then slowly one by one settle into the truth--it is indeed him, Joe Burrow, on their computer screens. "Oh, this is embarrassing," Kimberly laughs. "I have to go change."

"No, no, it's fine. Really. I'm just here to learn," Joe laughs. "But it is nice t-shirt, so it's good to know you all have good taste."

"Everyone has to start somewhere," Jeremiah returns. "Happy to have you here today. Really takes the wind out of my sails about the whole introduction to us having a guest, since, well, it's you, Joe. But nevertheless. How much do you know before I do the recap?"

"Pretty caught up. I know there's a unicorn that was stolen, a maze that nearly ended in a very painful spiked death, undead armies with skeletons chasing after you all, and supposedly a lot of drinking by one pirate in the party, but I won't name any names," Joe answers.

Jonathon snorts. "Hey, Bobby works hard. He's allowed a drink, or two."

"Or five and then stiffs the barkeep and we're blacklisted in that town," you return.

"We needed information and the barkeep was acting shady," Jonathon laughs.

"In Bobby's defense, we did get the information we needed," Kimberly interjects. "So it worked."

"Alright," Jeremiah cuts in. "Joe, seems like you're well caught up. Feel free to ask questions whenever. Let's get started."

It takes a solid twenty minutes for Joe to keep up on who's character is who, and when the group is using character names versus their actual names. But it's not hard, thankfully, given the practice of putting their character names in brackets on the Zoom. He listens, taking in the way the group plays--the quick asides that are always noted as not being in character and the asides that are noted as being in character.

One such aside, about who cares about a tiefling kid that's been discovered abandoned on the side of the road, sparks a sharp and sudden anger out of your character. So much so that Joe almost worries it's actual anger, and reaches for your elbow, a gentle squeeze that pulls you back into him.

"That kid matters," you returns, falling into the pull of Joe's hand. "We can't leave him."

"He could be a traitor. Someone planted. We can't go picking up anyone and everyone that looks lonely," Jonathon returns. It's clear that the exchange for Jonathon is in character. He reclines back in his chair, his words slurred in the way that sober people try to replicate but never get right.

"Fuck you, Bobby," you nearly shout it and then like a switch, your voice is calm again, "Nassdeth shakes with their anger, a little bit of spit flies out with the words." This is in character for you too and Joe gingerly runs the hand that was on your elbow over your back before returning it to his side. It's an intriguing watch, the way the group flows so effortlessly. The strategizing up to this point on directions, rotations. The combats been minimal, an encounter in the midst of the travels from one kindgdom to the next. Joe managed to deliver the damning blow on one wisp, which felt like a major win, even if his poor understanding took half your character's health.

You continue on, speaking, clearly back in character. "Fuck you and your drunkard ass. This kid needs our help."

"Reality check, Nass, you're not a god. Get over yourself," Jonathon returns.

"Nassdeth slaps Bobby. Their eyes turn a little dark. The clouds look a little darker than usual and they're rolling in fast. There's a bit more bass in their voice as they speak. 'I am a god,' Nassdeth says. There's like a tiny bit of thunder that cracks too when they say the word 'god' too."

"Oh, whoa, time," Jeremiah calls. The group collectively turns to him. He calls out your name. "You sure about this?"

You nod. "I'm sure."

"You're game, Jonathan? You want to play it like this?"Jeremiah checks in.

He nods, grinning as he sips up straighter in his seat. "Oh, Bobby was born ready for this."

Joe waits, watching over the smile pressing at the corner of your lips. He's not sure if you've been planning this, or if there's something else he's missing, but he's enraptured. He grabs a few kernels of popcorn from the bowl you popped earlier and forgets for a minute he's not even watching a movie or a TV show.

This is only a game. But he can envision it. The horse and buggy pulled over on the side of the road, the drunked slump of Bobby's body on the carriage. Nassdeth's short and stocky body standing on the bench above him, shaking as they speak. The scared tiefling boy on the side of the road. Zarinda, Aryanna's half or barbarian; Peter, the monk; and Saph, Kimberly's sorcerer, all packed in around them.

He can imagine the way the camera, should it be there, tracked in on the clouds rolling in, how the sound of Nassdeth's voice shook the air around them. "Damn, this is good," he mutters.

"Roll for initiative," Jeremiah returns.

The sound of the electronic dice echoes. "19," Jonathon states.

"Oh, shit, you're actually fighting your own party member?" Joe asks, somehow as if he hadn't heard the demand for both of them to roll initiative.

You snicker. "Yeah, is it okay if I take over this combat encounter?"

"Yeah, yeah, I would not want to interrupt this," Joe returns, picking up the bowl now. "This is getting fucking good."

Another dice rolls. "17," you call out though the system shows the number anyway. Jeremiah nods and Joe turns attention back to you, wondering if there's something in this backstory that he's missing. He assume there is something he's missed. But he's okay with not knowing just as long as it comes out during this session.

"Another flash of lightning strikes, hitting Nassdeth straight on. But rather then frying the carriage, rather than a scream of agony, Nassdeth remains standing," Jeremiah tacks on. "Bobby, because this is a bit of a surprise, I am going to give you advantage on your first roll and you'll get one free action. If anyone else thinks they might join in, roll now for me, but the first round of combat is just Bobby and Nass."

Only a couple more dice are rolled. "15."

"10."

"Let's rock and roll."

The fight happens seemingly in slow motion for Joe. Bobby spills his drink at the flash of lightning. But Bobby pushes up and takes on the wooden staff he collected at some point in the adventure out to take a swing. He misses, swiping too high over Nass but does follow up with a blow to their ribs.

Nass returns with a rather hearty kick to the Bobby's chest. The metal armor humming with a soft yellow glow. The two trade blows and misses. Nass' punch just narrowly being dodged by Bobby. Around and around, spilling out into the dirt road they're on. Tree branches fall from high heights with Nass' impact. Bobby takes a rather meaty blow to his knees, nearly incapacitating him. Peter jumps in first to help, spending a qui point to release a flurry of blows. Only one manages to hit Nass' AC and do damage.

Nass remains standing, bloody no doubt, over a haggard Bobby, their foot pressed into Bobby's chest, the lightning burning at the skin. "Only fools fight gods," you quip. "And if you care to be a fool, just know not all gods are kind."

Joe can see the measly single digits on your health bar, but he notices though now in the encounter tab there's a second icon beneath yours that's not on the screen. Is Nassdeath just one skin of yours? Would this form crumble only to reveal your true self should someone want to deliver the damning blow?

He sits up straighter and knows he can't say anything. No one else can know. But he smiles all the same, watching you in your character's groove. Joe's not sure if someone would actually fight their party member, if it would make for a good experience, but perhaps, that can make it better. That there's just enough tension to create interesting plot lines.

"Saph takes a tree branch and launches it at Nass," Kimberly interjects.

"Hmm, which branch?" Jeremiah questions. "There's the two smaller ones I mentioned and then the giant one."

"The giant one," Kimberly answers.

"Oh shit," Aryanna laughs.

"Give me a strength check. I think Saph is athletic enough to throw it. But it is a hefty branch."

The sound of dice echoes again. Dirty 20," Kimberly answers.

"Fuck, really?" Joe sits up and sees there, in the log that the original number rolled was a 16, but with the +4 to strength brings up the total.

Another set of dice is rolled. "8 damage," she reads out.

"No!" Joe cries. Though he is interested to see what happens next. "Nass, no!"

The group laughs at his outburst but Jeremiah recovers faster. "How are you doing this Saph?"

"What?" Kimberly shrieks. "What do you mean? No, no, no, I take it back."

"I'm sorry," Jeremiah returns. "Can't take it back this time. How are you taking down Nassdeth?"

"Do it looney tunes style. Spin around and send that bitch," Aryanna jokes.

Kimberly snorts. "No, that's literally what I was thinking. I mean, fuck it we ball, right?"

"Send it," you encourage.

"Saph picks up the giant branch. It's heavy, but she gives it a few test twirls and then chucks it, right at the back of Nass's body."

"Okay," Jeremiah returns. "Saph, you pick up the branch, it's not as heavy as you think, but you're still pretty far so you spin around once, then twice, and when you toss it, it arches up and then hits Nass directly in the back of the head. You can hear the branch shatter, splinters out. There's smoke. You catch just a few tendrils of the smoke in the air before the whole forest lights. Beams of light shoot out from the spot Nass stands, the energy gives off a blast, blows the carriage up which sends Peter, Saph, Zarinda, and the kid all flying backwards. Bobby you feel like you're being choked. The light's burning your eyes and the pressure on your chest grows and grows.

This goes for twenty seconds or so and then cuts out like a light switch being turned off. On top of you now is not that the small dwarf you all have grown to love to hate and hate to love. They're a little bit taller, only about a foot or so. The clothes don't fight, the amor's a little too tight. The face is a bit more slender--still dark skinned, still has the dreads, but just a little bit different. The eyes are totally blacked out."

Jeremiah's chat pops up in the small laptop screen. Joe sees notices because it's got red next to it, instead of the normal blue. Your voice echoes right next to Joe.

"Bobby, I hope damning yourself was worth it."

Jonathon pushes in closer to the screen, his voice is soft and weak, croaky in a way that makes it clear he's still playing as Bobby who's been exhausted and nearly beaten in battle. His eyes dance though, the realization dawning on him. "You're not Nassdeth."

"Oh, no, no. You're right. I'm not. Never was. Heard y'all have been looking for me though. So close there for a while."

"Nass-Nassven?" Jonathon croaks out. He smiles as he says it though.

"Nassven steps in a little harder onto Bobby's chest," you start. "Nice to make your acquaintance. That boy's coming with me, whether you like it or not."

"No fucking way! Oh no fucking way!" the group shrieks. The dining room fills with the laughter and the shock. Kimberly runs from her computer, though her scream still fill the room.

Joe sits and waits. He's heard the name Nassven before, he thinks. He's sure he has. You mentioned it once. The person your group was on the way to meet.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Joe laughs. "You're the guy! This whole time!"

Your grin up at him and nod. "Yep, the whole time."

"And that concludes tonight's session," Jeremiah announces. It's nearly swallowed up by the shrieks and cries.

Joe can't believe it. "Wait, no, no, that's insane. Jeremiah, you sit your ass back down I need answers."

You take Joe's elbow gently. "We've been playing for two and a half hours."

"But, c'mon. That's such a big cliff hanger."

"Join us next week," Jeremiah offers. "We meet pretty regularly."

"Make me a character, somehow, someway, I want in on this," Joe's laughing, but he means it. He wants in and then he turns to you. "If you create a plot line half as crazy as this, I know the entire team will want in games."

"Oh, please let me be a fly on the wall the day you get the team to play D&D. Better yet, record it and make it a series on YouTube, I beg," Kimberly laughs.

"I'll make some calls," Joe returns, laughing and still in awe of the plot twist.

[skellseerwriting]

5 Times Iida Thinks You’re a Boy and 1 Time He Finally Realizes

Oblivious!Iida x Fem!Androgynous!Reader

Part 4: Date

Part 3

Word Count: 800+

Content & Warnings: rejection, slight angst (there’ll be a happy ending but not in this chapter), Iida and reader both make presumptions about each other

Summary: You’re at the library with Mina, and she convinces you to do something

“I’m telling you, that’s what he said!” Mina squealed, jumping up and down behind you with her hands on your shoulders. Sighing for more than one reason, you shushed her to keep her voice down as you continued to browse the library shelf.

“That doesn’t mean he’d want to go on a date with me.” You said, a little disgruntled. With Mina as your best friend, peace and quiet was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You wouldn’t have it any other way though, of course.

“Yeah but he said he likes intelligent girls who hold respect for rules and authority. That’s basically you in a nutshell!”

Hissing out another “shh!” Before the librarian could chase you down, you randomly pulled a book out and went to a nearby table. Sitting down, you opened the novel right up against your nose and did your best to ignore her. In truth, the words sparked a bit of hope within your chest, but the fear of it all crashing down scared you more than anything else.

“Come on.” She whispered to your left, sticking her nose between the edge of your book and your face. “There’s a good chance he might say ‘yes’.”

You slammed the book closed. Mina jumped back to avoid her face getting clipped. “Or he might say ‘no’.” You divulged to her your fear. It slipped through the syllables and conveyed exactly what you didn’t want to risk happening.

Placing a friendly hand down on your arm, she smiled warmly at you. Like always, she emitted guidance and trust. “And would that really be so bad?” She asked you in a heartfelt manner. It made you think.

Dipping your head, you let out a weak “no”.

“Great.” Her voice sounded solid. “Because now’s your chance.”

“What?” You shot your head back up, but it was too late. Mina had already zoomed out of her seat and away from your sight. Immediately, you understood what she meant. To your right, where you had just been before, browsing the same shelf on the same row, was Iida.

Sweat dotted your brow, and before you knew it, you stood up to make your way over to him.

“Oh, hey Iida.” You greeted, moving to slot your book back into its spot (which just so happened to conveniently be a foot away from him).

“Good afternoon.” He responded, smiling upon seeing you. The brief nervousness you had felt a moment ago seeped out of your body. Mina’s words coursed through you. She was right.

You could do this.

“Are you looking for something to read in your spare time?” You asked coolly. It would be easier to build up to talking with him about a shared interest. You liked books, he liked books, what’s not to like?

You, apparently. Or at least, that’s what you feared.

“Yes.” He confirmed. “I’m trying to find a piece of classic literature, but the author’s name appears to be evading me on this shelf.”

Following along with his finger as it reached where you were standing, you took a step back and pulled out the book you had just put back in. “It wouldn’t happen to be this one would it?”

His face lit up. “Marvelous!” He exclaimed. “I had no idea you were also into classic novels of this manner.”

You sheepishly rubbed the back of your head. Yes, you had randomly taken it out of the shelf, however, you had already read that book before. Multiple times, in fact.

“Yeah,” you told him. “It’s among my favorites.”

Iida leaned farther into your space. “If you like this one, perhaps you’ll enjoy some similar classic literature I have in my own personal collection of books.”

“I’d love that.” You gushed, then, saw the conversational opportunity and took it. “I would also love it,” you tried not to hesitate and just get the words out. “If we could go out on a date.”

You held your breath.

Iida’s mouth stayed partially open for several seconds. Then, he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. His eyes evaded yours and his cheeks turned pink. Despite his best effort to be vocally clear, he stuttered out his response. “I- I don’t-“ he vaguely gestured to all of you. “I’m not really into…”

Your eyes widened, quickly catching onto what he was saying. “Oh, I’m sorry for assuming. My bad.”

“No no,” he shook his head, still not looking at you. “It’s okay.”

“It’s alright.” You reiterated.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Now you were both standing there awkwardly. Another beat passed.

“Well.” You clicked your tongue. “I gotta go…”

“Right!” He said, arms stiff at his sides. “I shall see you in class.”

You did your best not to look at him forlornly as you quickly passed by. While attempting to exit the library, Mina intercepted you.

“What happened?” She asked gently, noticing the way you looked upset.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You said in hushed tones. She let you slip by her and through the door. You wanted to tell her the truth, but you couldn’t do that to Iida. If she asked again, you would just say that he rejected you. And that was true, right? Regardless of the reason.

He had rejected you.

Tagist: Tenya Iida

@electronicexpertshark @ragdol-666

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[nezuscribe]

you try not to get jealous. it does you no good. but sometimes you get a little miffed when it comes to how women treat your husband, arranged!gojo.

you see how the women giggle at him, how they bite their lips whenever he walks by. you see them giggle to each other, the way they try to catch his attention.

and though most ladies of the high society act this way, some of the servants around the estate, the women of the town, and others behave like this too.

they act as if he’s not married, as if that ring on his hand is purely for decoration. and sure, maybe a couple months ago it was for show but now things have changed and you don’t appreciate those ladies all that much.

and gojo notices.

he knows you’re getting better at talking to him about what ails you, but he also knows that it’s a a lot to get used to at once. he sees the way you tense up at their whispers, the glares you throw their way when you hear his name in their conversation. he understands because he’s the same as you, his feelings mirroring yours.

so he decides to comfort your worries a bit indirectly.

“what…” you whip your head around as gojo stops at a random spot in one of the hallways, taking you away from your tea time with shoko as he fails to give any explanation for his hurried responses, “what are you doing? you have that meeting with your counsel and-”

“missed you,” is all he’s able to say as he slams his lips onto yours, earning a surprised yelp in response.

your back hits against the stone wall, one of his hands against your head to protect it from bumping back as your gasp in surprise, letting him slide his tongue in your mouth as he sloppily kisses your lips.

“satoru, w-wait,” you try to stop yourself from whining out loud, your fingers cuing into his artic strands as his hands move down to hold your waist, “it’s daytime, p-people, people can come…” you can’t speak anymore because he doesn’t let you, lips slotting against each others as your eyes screw shut, heartbeat in your throat as he hands squeeze as your skin.

“i missed you,” he just repeats, nipping slightly at your bottom lip as you mewl, feeling his lips trail down your chin to your throat as you tilt you head upwards to give him a better angle.

you almost want to laugh because it’s only been hours since you’ve seen each other, but for gojo it feels like days since he’s seen you.

you peek slightly too look at him, see the way his lips attack your skin, sucking and biting, surely leaving marks as he makes his way down. you love the way his hair is slightly wavy, most likely from his bath after sparring.

you’re almost too intoxicated from his feverish kisses to notice the sounds of incoming footsteps, but the loud overbearing giggles is what pulls you back to reality.

you tense up, scrambling to push him away from you but he won’t budge. if anything, he seems to be motivated, moving back up to your lips to steal your words away.

“t-there’s people coming!” you try to warn him but he doesn’t seem to care, his blue eyes gleaming with a different look as your whine from one of his hands moving upwards to your chest, giving one of your breasts a light squeeze.

“so?” he murmurs, lips hovering against the corners of yours as his brow cocks upwards.

you go to say something else but he tilts your chin upwards to meet him, one hand balancing on the wall behind you, one on your hip, his hair messy from your fingers gripping at him.

you don’t feel like moving, too drunk off of him to even notice the ladies as they round the corner, not looking their way as you hear their squeals of shock, the way they try to hurriedly leave.

you glance slightly to the right as gojo moves back down to your neck to get a look at them, your fingers still tangled in his hair, one hand draped over his neck, squinting slightly as you remember their faces from last week, when you overheard them talking about your husband.

there’s a slight tilt in your lips as you hear their scrambled apologies, the way they try to leave as fast as they can. you try not to gloat too much in their looks of envy and jealousy.

and if you focused just enough, you could feel the smile on his lips.

“you missed me?” you ask a little breathless, a coy tilt to your voice.

“so much,” he mumbles as he glances up at you from his white lashes, his pupils blown wide, lips messy with spit, red and swollen as he presses a slopping kiss to the slight skin showing of your chest.

“you’re so immature,” you chide, trying to look away, the hide the bashfulness in your face but his hand cups your jaw, pulling your face back down to see his.

“they had to see for themselves,” he tells you, his voice wavering on something darker, “had to see who the only lady gojo is.”

and you smile, eyes a little hazy as your fingers slightly tug on his soft strands, reveling in the way his eyes roll back and his lips find their way back up to yours.

yeah jealousy wasn’t the best. but thank the gods your husband was just as petty as you.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

blue sweater - r.c.

(season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader blurb, 2.4k words)

content smut, p in v, this gorgeous man and his afformentioned blue sweater, 18+ minors do not interact!!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂

You’d fallen asleep on the couch, waiting up for him again. You didn’t fault Rafe for working so hard, you just miss him so fucking much when he’s in back-to-back meetings all day. 

The couch dips below you, pulling you from your dreams. A large, warm presence settles next to you on the sofa. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know it’s him.

“Hey,” you mumble sleepily, eyes still closed.

He’s smirking down at you, you know him so well you can picture exactly how he looks without actually seeing him. 

“Hi,” he leans forward, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry, that last meeting ran so long.”

Finally opening your eyes to meet his, you’re almost startled by the sight. Somehow, in the dim evening light, they’re more deeply blue and beautiful than ever.

“Nice sweater,” you say, reaching up to run your fingers along the hard edge of his shoulder. Even though he looks so soft and pretty right now, he’s tense, and you wish you could ease the worry that furrows his brow.

He smiles knowingly, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling in the cute way that makes your heart ache for him.

“Thanks, my girlfriend got it for me.”

“She has good taste,” you joke as your run your hand gently up and down his bicep, the soft fabric such a contrast to the hard muscle below. 

“Yeah, she’s all kinds of good,” he winks.

“Then why’d you make her wait for you all night?” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip so he’d know you’re just teasing.

“I said I’m sorrrrry,” he whines as he leans over you more, adjusting to bring his legs onto the couch. You make room for him instinctually, his body fitting into yours like you were designed for each other. 

He lets his full weight down slowly, sinking you both deep into the cushions. Nuzzling his head into your neck, he drags his lips against the skin below your ear so gently, it sends goosebumps racing across your skin. He can feel your excitement and starts kissing you more firmly, leaving little wet spots up the column of your throat.

Your hands splay out over his big, firm back, rubbing circles into the tight muscles. You press deep, working out his stress, and he groans at your firm touch. Your hands work slowly down his back, pressing as you go. When you reach the hem of his sweater, you slip your hands underneath. Rafe flinches at your touch, a shudder running through him.

“Your hands are cold!” He exclaims, his voice muffled.

“Oh sorry, love!” you start to pull them away, but he reaches his arm behind him and pins your palms to his skin.

“No, it feels nice, don’t stop.”

You obey, the pads of your fingers digging little figure eights into his lower back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“What’s got you so stressed baby, hmm?” You ask.

“Just got too much going on,” he shakes his head so his buzzed hair tickles your earlobe. You giggle at the sensation, his head rising and falling with the shake of your chest.

“Poor baby,” you coo, making him smile against you. “Just need a little help to relax?”

Rafe nods against you, moving slightly to lay his head against your chest so you can run your nails along his head like you know he likes. You bring one hand up, the other still under his shirt, the motion making you open your legs wider so you can stretch. He slots between them perfectly, and when you drag your nails over the fuzzy hairs right at the nape of his neck, you can feel him twitch against your core, already half hard.

“Someone’s needy,” you hum, delighted that you can make him so hot just by touching him tenderly like this. “Want me to make you forget all about your bad day?”

“Please,” he groans into your collarbone, pressing his hips down harder so you can feel him fully against you now. Your wetness pools immediately, soaking through your panties as you arch your back and return the pressure. 

“Shit, baby, that’s so nice,” he praises.

“‘I’ve been waiting for this all day,” you confess.

“Then we better not make you wait any longer.”

Swiftly, he lifts his head from your chest and finds your lips with his. It’s hungry and sloppy, the wet skin of his lower lip sliding against yours as your mouths collide. You’re fully grinding up into him now, and there is nothing semi-soft about him, his hard cock threatening to rip the seams of his pants. You writhe, desperate to feel his length. You know it like the back of your hand, picturing his perfect cock clearly as you rock against it. You’ve got every vein, every throbbing, pink inch memorized. 

“Take your pants off,” you breathe into his open mouth.

With a cocky grin that makes you impossibly wetter he drawls, “now who’s needy, huh?”

You roll your eyes and reach for his waistband, if he’s gonna be an ass about it you’ll just do it yourself. He mirrors you, undressing you with the same shaky fervor. Your shirt goes first, he’s delighted to see you’ve opted for no bra. In the cold evening air, your nipples harden immediately, and he can see the goosebumps spreading across your torso. 

“Ohh baby, you really are freezing.”

“Mhm,” you nod, lip pulled between your teeth. “Warm me up, Rafe.”

A throaty groan rises from his chest as he takes over your work on his pants, ripping them off as best he can without standing, his boxers following. You slip your thumbs under your shorts, doubling up to slide your panties down with them until you’re bare for him. Only one piece of clothing remains between you, the soft blue sweater you bought for him. He starts to pull it off, but you stop him, your hand wrapping around his wrist.

“No, leave it on,” you instruct.

“Whatever you want, angel,” he smirks at your unusual request, but obliges without complaint.

He lays down on you again, his lips hovering over yours as he lets his cock press into your inner thigh. He’s so hard you gasp, inhaling sharply at the sweet pressure against your leg. He kisses you again, more tenderly this time, like he’s trying to imprint the taste of you onto his tongue. As he lets his weight settle on you, the soft threads of his sweater rub over your sensitive nipples, the sensation making your eyes squeeze shut and a strained moan echo from your chest.

“Y’okay?” He asks.

“It feels so g-good,” you croak out.

“What does, baby?”

You blush, feeling silly for it, but something about the soft material against your hardened skin is so delicious, you’re sure your pussy is dripping onto the couch by now. 

A little embarrassed, you admit, “the sweater on my tits feels really good.”

“It does?” He questions, amused.

“Just stay on me baby, don’t stop.”

You and Rafe have been known to argue about almost anything, but he never argues when you tell him how to make you feel good. He flattens his chest against you fully, rutting his dick against your leg, causing his chest to rub against yours as requested. Your head falls back into the throw pillows. You let him continue to move you both until you almost can’t stand the friction anymore.

“I love that,” you whimper, eyes still squeezed shut. “But I need you inside.”

“Can’t wait any longer, huh?” He chuckles. Once again, you don’t need to see him to know what he looks like, his eyebrows are surely arched high and his lips quirked to the side as he looks at you in amusement.

“Rafe I’ve been waiting for like twelve hours,” you complain.

“I know, baby, I know,” he quells you. “I got you, alright?”

Propped on one arm, his sweater leaves your chest for a moment so he can line himself up at your soaked entrance. You wait with closed eyes, bracing for impact as you know it will take a minute to adjust to his size, it always does. But he doesn’t enter you, just grumbles with annoyance as he shuffles above you.

Your quizzical eyes open to find him fumbling with the collar of his sweater, preparing to pull it off.

“What’s the problem?”

“I want to see you, but this fucking sweater’s in the way,” he explains. You lift your head and look down to where your bodies should be meeting to see the hem of his sweater hanging in the way, blocking the view. “I’m just gonna take it off.”

“Nuh-uh!” you object. 

“Baby,” he whines.

A solution comes to you, causing you to break into a wide grin.

“Open up,” you say, and he’s never looked more confused.

But then, you reach down and pull the hem of the sweater between your fingers, making his stomach flinch as you brush against it. You lift the hem up to his mouth, revealing the sight of his dick dangerously close to your entrance. He puzzles it together, and teasingly rolls his eyes before letting you place it between his teeth. He bites down on it obediently, considering a protest before looking down to see he now has a perfect angle to his favorite sight in the world.

It feels so good when he finally slides in, stretching you so deliciously and filling you like only he can, that you almost actually cry. He moves gently, considerate enough to know there’s probably an edge of pain to your pleasure.

“You don’t have to go slow,” you assure him. “Take your stress out on me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He tries to sound cocky, but it’s muffled from the fabric between his teeth.

The way his jaw clenches in frustration makes you giggle. Rafe usually does most of the talking, knowing the sound of his low voice in your ear makes you come so much faster.

“I’ll do the talking, just focus on my voice while you fuck me, m’kay?” You purr.

He nods in agreement, picking up the pace until he’s rocking into you, continuously hitting the perfect spot that makes you both shudder with pleasure. He’s going so hard you have to lift your arm above you and steady yourself against the arm of the couch. His eyes flit between the sight of you taking him in so perfectly and the way your tits bounce with each thrust.

You keep your promise to talk him through it, starting with, “just like that, Rafe- mmmph- feels so good. God, I can feel you so deep.”

His brows furrow in concentration, thrusting harder, desperate to drag more praises from your kiss-chapped lips. Your eyes train on the veins in his neck, throbbing with effort. You reach your other hand up and grab his chin, pulling his face so his eyes pierce yours.

“Shit, you look so good, fucking me like you needed to,” you cry.

As much as he loves the eye-contact, he’s still wearing this stupid sweater for a reason, and he needs to remind you. He matches you by placing his hand on your face, soft but firm, and directing your gaze down to see him pistoning into you.

“Oh my god, that’s so hot,” you smile, admiring the creamy mess you’re making on his shaft. “You’re fucking covered in me, baby. Made me so wet comin’ in here looking this good.”

He removes his hand from your head, looking for a non-verbal way to thank you for your compliments. He presses his thumb to your tongue, and you don’t need words to know what he’s doing. You get it nice and wet, swirling spit around his thumb with your tongue. Once it’s ready, he lowers it to your clit, rubbing back and forth a few times before forming steady circles.

“Ah- fuck- yes, Rafe that’s so-” Your commitment to keep talking falters as pleasure floods your mind, robbing you of your voice.

He knows what you need, he always knows what you need. He pulls your hand from his chin and places it on his chest, you bunch the fabric of his sweater so he can release it from his teeth.

“There ya go,” he coos. “Need me to talk you through it, huh?”

You nod desperately, confirming what he already knew.

“Couldn’t even concentrate in my meetings,” he begins, panting with the effort he’s putting in, not letting up his pace. “Thinkin’ about you here waiting for me, walking around the house in those little shorts. How am I supposed to close deals when I can’t stop thinking about bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking this perfect pussy, huh?”

His words have exactly the effect he was hoping for, you are beside yourself, moaning and squirming beneath him. Letting out the sweetest little “oh, oh, ohs” as his cock rocks your whole body. He's losing tempo, both of you nearing the edge. You bring your other fist up to bunch his sweater, too, grasping so tightly you're afraid you're gonna tear it. You clench around him as he keeps talking.

“That’s it, baby, squeeze me as hard as you can - fuck!” He's unraveling, needing to find the words to get you there so he didn’t finish first. “Fuck, that’s my good girl.”

Just as he expected, that’s what finally did it for you. You cry out his name as sparks exploded in your tummy, coming so hard you have to bury your face into his chest to keep from screaming. He follows behind you almost immediately, his hot cum spurting into you as his primal groans and grunts echo through the room.

A few minutes later, you’re cleaned up and cuddled in his bed, now wrapped up in his sweater, the stretched-out fabric engulfing you. He smirks as his hands run over the material, rubbing over your stomach and waist lovingly.

“Might have to wear this thing every day if that’s how you’re gonna react,” he teases you.

“Uh-huh,” you giggle. “Good luck getting it back.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄

a/n: omg i'm so sorry I just literally couldn't not, the chokehold this sweater has on me is unnatural like y'all don't even need to read this it was just a passion project for me. all hail Blue Sweater.

[rowarn]

soap x reader x simon

soap doesn't know how to make you cum on his cock so he asks his trusted lieutenant to teach him how.

sub!reader, dom!simon, switch?soap, getting fucked by soap in simon's lap, wet&messy, cumming untouched, size difference/kink, threesome, fat dick!soap, MDNI

<3 just some horny nonsense that was spinning in my brain!!!

When Simon found out that sweet Johnny was struggling with something personal and even as embarrassing as making you cum, Simon’s mouth moved faster than his brain with an offer he never thought he would utter.

“I could help you out with that,” he had said, making Soap pause, mouth agape. Simon almost rescinded those words, brushing it off as a crude joke.

But then Soap spoke.

“Would you?” he asked, blue eyes glistening hopefully.

And Simon felt his cock twitch in his jeans.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t make you cum, Soap had defended on the drive over to your shared flat. Soap was good with his tongue and his fingers, could make you squirt by just rubbing that sweet little spot inside your gooey cunt.

The problem was whenever Johnny got his cock in you, he just could never get it right. The pace was wrong, the angle was off, he went too deep – anything that he could do wrong, he would do wrong.

“It’s never been like this with other…partners,” Soap shyly whispered. Though it was dark in the truck, Simon knew his friend was blushing in embarrassment, “I-I don’t know what I’m doin’ wrong this time.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out, Johnny,” Simon assured, shoving the door open the second Soap turned the engine off.

You and Soap lived on the top floor and the elevator ride up was stifling. Soap was fidgeting, clearly more than a little nervous about how this night was meant to go.

You and he had been together for a while – long enough to move in together. Simon wondered what finally made Soap reach out for help on this little problem after so long.

But Simon wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d wanted to get his fucking hands on you from the second you bounced into the room, radiant and so sweet in the way you shyly clung to Soap’s arm. You were precious and Simon’s not proud to admit he had gone home and tugged his cock fucking raw over the way you had batted your pretty lashes at him when you looked up at him – so much smaller than him.

He knew he would be a fucking wreck the second he had you within his grasp and fuck, he was right.

His hands were shaking as he held you in his lap, gripping your knees to keep you spread wide for Soap to slot his hips between them.

You were a sensitive little thing, Simon learned. You came so easily around Soaps fingers when he worked to stretch you open for him. If you came so easily then why the fuck couldn’t Johnny get you off from his cock?

You were trembling, wide eyes teary as you watched your boyfriend carefully work his cock into you. The stretch was always so good, always making your eyes roll back in your head. Your cunt was so slick and sticky, eagerly swallowing every inch of Soap. So fucking messy. It made Simon's mouth fill with saliva at the sight of how wet you were, he wanted to taste you so badly.

Johnnys cock was fat, thick and heavy, no doubt burning your poor little cunt with how wide he had you stretched around him. You creamed around him, juices dribbling down his balls and wetting his sweatpants. You even dripped all over Simon who held you in his lap.

When Johnny started thrusting, Simon immediately understood why you couldn't seem to cum. Sure, it felt good, and you were moaning - twitching and gasping every time Soap sunk in and brushed against any sweet little spot inside. But Soaps rhythm and pace were inconsistent and he didn't seem to have any idea how to aim his cock to really hit those gooey spots that would have you falling over the edge into bliss.

Simon took a few moments to admire the scene unfolding right in his lap. You, creaming all over a cock that couldn't make you cum. Soap desperately humping your pretty cunt haphazardly and sloppily. He wasn't even bothering to touch your clit. Beneath his mask, Simon grinned.

It was so cute how Johnny went so stupid the second he got his cock wrapped up in a tight, hot pussy.

“Johnny…” Simon finally spoke, “Slow down.”

Immediately, Soap did as he was told. His pace slowed, careful rolls of his hips replacing the jackhammering.

“There's a good boy,” Simon praised, eyes darkening at the sight of Soap’s ears turning red, “Go nice ‘nd deep You gotta hit all those nice spots inside.”

Soap’s pretty, blue eyes were half-lidded as he watched you writhe and twitch in his Lieutenant’s arms. With every deep stroke, both of them could hear the sticky, wet noises of your pussy swallowing every inch.

One of Simon’s hands trailed down your thigh, inching down and down. Soap’s eyes followed every movement until his fingers finally found your hard little clit. Immediately, your cunt clamped down around Soap’s cock and the Scot moaned.

“You gotta touch this cute little clit,” Simon teased, “If you really wanna know how it feels to have a pretty cunt cum around you.”

Soap nonsensically nodded, blunt nails digging into your hips as he held himself back from fucking you like a madman again. He kept Simon’s words in mind - deep and slow. Aim for those little spots. He knows where they are, he knows where it feels good. Just don't think with his cock - that's all he had to do.

With Simon’s callused fingers swirling over your sticky clit and Soap’s fat cock stuffing you full just right, it came as no surprise when you finally came.

Soap wasn't able to stand how good it felt with how tight you were squeezing around him, pulsing through every wave of your orgasm. You were gushing, creaming sticky and wet all over him. Simon could feel you clit twitching under the pads of his fingers.

With a shout, Soap filled you up with his load, “Fuck!”

As the two of you came down, Simon’s big hands carefully stroked up and down your thighs until their trembling ceased.

“You know, Lt,” Soap panted, looking up at him through his lashes, “I think I could use a little more hands on training. How about you really show me how it's done.”

Even though Simon had quietly came in his own pants, his cock was chubbing up again at those words.

“I like the sound of that, Seargent.”

do not modify translate, or repost to other websites. reblogs welcome!

[seouljazzbar]

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (��민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest. 

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to  buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry. 

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly  you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats. 

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. 

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…” 

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff  noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?” 

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?” 

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”  

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet. 

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in. 

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.”  He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded  pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing  into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains. 

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.” 

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed. 

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

[xxsabitoxx]

Stay Quiet

Yuta x Fem! Reader Smut / characters are 18+

Warnings: semi-public sex, hotel sex, sex with someone else sleeping in the room, titty worship, raw sex, creampies, squirting

A/N: Baby boy is backkkkkk _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): since I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write smut… here is a smut imagine :D

Word count: 1.7k

“Y-yuta~”

Your back is arching into him, hand slapping over your mouth to try and suppress your whimpers. Your boyfriend isn’t listening to your quiet pleas, his head under your shirt, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples.

His only response is stopping his sucking to bite instead, earning a sharp cry from your lips that you quickly try and smother. Beside you, the bed is rustling as Inumaki tosses and turns in his sleep.

Not even a vacation with long time friends in a shared hotel room with two beds would stop Yuta from having his way with you. So long as you kept quiet…

“Yuta please…” you begging him, tone soft but labored as his hand tightened its grip on your side. Still, he didn’t respond, mouth far too preoccupied to speak.

You could only imagine the mess he was making, littering your skin in bruises and saliva to make you his. He’s always adored your breasts, both in the sexual and non-sexual sense. Sometimes he just needed to hold them, other times he needed to fuck them.

You never complained, not when he worshiped you the way he did… the way he was right now.

You could feel your eyes threatening to roll back, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud as his thigh pressed further to your covered cunt. You were soaked, Yuta could feel the dampness through your night shorts as they pressed into his bare thigh.

Yuta left your breast alone, kissing the bruises he left before turning his head to the one he had been neglecting. It sent a whole new wave of pleasure through you, hand pressing to your mouth tighter as you couldn’t contain your whine.

He nipped at your skin, just hard enough to leave teeth indents that would turn into pretty bruises.

Your hips jerked as he bite down on your nipple, pain and pleasure making you clench around nothing. Your cunt dragged along his thigh, too many layers separating you to gain any real satisfaction from the friction.

“A-at least fuck me, Yuta.” You begged him, hand slotting back over your mouth as he sucked your neglected nipple. Still, you were left with no response, nothing but his hips jerking against your abdomen told you that he had heard your quiet plea.

You felt him, hard and heavy resting on your abdomen, straining in his briefs. If it weren’t for the sheer amount of body heat from being under the covers, you’d have been able to to feel the wet patch forming on the front of him.

Yuta indulged himself further, practically moaning as his hips rolled against you. “N-not fair.” You breathed, one of your hands coming down to rest on top of his head, not able to reach his hair since he was protected by your shirt. “So hot… Yuta I’m hot…”

You knew it was useless, he wasn’t going to stop anything he was doing until he was good and ready.

You could feel it though, your skin was starting to turn slick with sweat. So was Yuta’s, but that didn’t seem to phase him at all. Not when he was lathering your breast with his tongue and whining as he rut his hips against your abdomen.

So needy yet so controlling.

It was a dizzying mix, being completely at his mercy.

Your hips rolled against his thigh, trying to create some sort of relief since he was purposely ignoring you. Three rolls of your hips and Yuta’s grip was tightened, stopping you from moving all together as he released your nipple with a soft pop.

“So fucking needy.”

He practically seethed, pulling his head out from under your shirt to glare at you. “M-me?” You whisper yelled, face warm from anger and need. “Yes you.” Yuta shot back, the anger on his face didn’t concern you.

Not when you could feel his cock twitching.

“We’re both needy, you’re just mean, Yuta.” Your lip wobbled, head turning to look at the other hotel bed. Inumaki had seemed to settle into a deep sleep, back facing the two of you.

“Eyes on me.”

You shivered involuntarily, head turning back to face Yuta in record time. “If I fuck you, you need to keep quiet.” You nodded eagerly, but Yuta wasn’t satisfied.

“Promise me you’ll stay quiet.” You felt your breathing stop, taking a moment to start again as you quietly whispered “I promise.” Yuta still seemed skeptical.

“I still don’t believe you.” He mumbled as he began pulling down his briefs, just enough for his cock to spring free. “Yuta I mean it.” You whined, hands rushing to yank your sleep shorts and panties off for him.

“You’re never quiet, pretty girl.” Warmth flooded you, causing you to suck your lip between your teeth as your hips raised. Yuta helped you despite scolding you, tossing the two clothing items off to the side.

“If you can’t stay quiet, I’ll stop.”

You nodded, taking your vow to silence literally as his fist wrapped around his cock. Your legs spread further to accommodate him, cunt throbbing with the desire for him to be inside of you.

“Tell me you understand, pretty girl.”

He froze just as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you further by prolonging what you needed. “I understand, Yuta.” And he pressed in, watching your mouth fall open as your chest rose and froze.

You were good, holding in the moan that was threatening to burst your lungs as he sunk deep. Your cunt had no resistance, swallowing his cock whole as he bottomed out inside of your tight heat. “Good girl.” He groaned.

Your hands found their way to his biceps, nails digging into his muscles as your legs locked around his hips. You managed to exhale the breath you had been holding, barely making a noise louder than a pant.

Yuta wasted no time, hips drawing back and snapping forward. Your head fell back against the pillow, mouth open as a quiet gasp left you. He was focused, head dipping down to watch where he appeared and disappeared inside of you.

Never mind being mindful of the noises you were making, Yuta had to be mindful of the noises your bodies made. Anything louder than the squelching and bed creaking and he was certain Inumaki would be waking up.

But it was hard to be rational when your cunt was suctioning to him, velvety walls begging to milk him for all he was worth. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

Every drag of his cock had you arching, scratching at his biceps as sweat dripped down your brow. You couldn’t think straight, breath catching in your lungs every few thrusts as you tried to ignore the urge to scream his name. “K-kiss me.” You managed to choke out.

It certainly wasn’t a whisper, the rustling in the bed over confirmed that. Yuta dropped lower, practically draping his body over you, hips rolling slowly rather than thrusting as he slotted his lips over yours.

Still, he was listening, silently praying Inumaki wouldn’t wake up because dammit he was certain he wouldn’t be able to stop fucking you even if he did.

“Y-Yuta-“ it was muffled, swallowed whole by his tongue slipping past your lips. You gave in, nearly melting into the mattress from his weight settling on you, the close proximity causing his pubic bone to brush your clit.

You felt it then, molten hot arousal pooling in your gut as he offered to the slightest bit of relief.

Yuta pulled away, saliva keeping your lips connected. “You have to be quiet, pretty girl. He almost woke up.” You nodded, eyes so bleary and lips so swollen that he couldn’t bring himself to really scold you.

Yuta found his pace again, hips smacking into yours and creating a soft slap that was just barely muffled by the hotel comforter. He was struggling to contain his own noises as your cunt clenched around him, one of your hands falling away from his bicep to sneak between you.

“Rub your clit for me, pretty girl. Make yourself cum on my cock.” It was a whisper but it seemed to echo off the walls of your skull, rendering you completely speechless.

You did as he asked, hand slipped down to feel your soaked cunt, rubbing your clit in face circles as Yuta’s cock stroked your sweet spot. “Make yourself cum on my cock, please. You know how much I love that.”

You nodded, mouth hanging open as breathless pants slipped past. They were quiet enough to not wake Inumaki but if anyone were to enter the room, it would be painfully obvious what was happening.

Yuta watched you, eyes torn between watching your tits bounce with each thrust and watching where his cock kept disappearing inside of you. It was utterly entrancing, making him gasp as his cock twitched violently within your walls.

“I’m gonna cum, pretty girl. Cum with me please.”

His voice cracked, face sweaty and flushed as he begged you so sweetly. It sent electricity straight down your spine, clit throbbing as your orgasm built. The thrusts got harder, a little sloppier… and louder.

Not that Yuta could care in that moment, he seemed to forget everything he had been drilling in your head as he moaned your name. You whined, eyes widening at the volume of his voice as your walls clenched again.

You were close, fueled by the feeling of his cock twitching deep inside of you. “Cum with me, please.”

Breathless, you nodded, head falling back as you brought yourself over the edge just as Yuta did. His hips stuttering before burying deep, pushing against your cervix as he spilled his load in you.

You had barely registered the warm gush that flooded between your thighs, not until Yuta collapsed on top of you. “Fuck.” You offered weakly, feeling the dampness on the sheets below accompanied by your sweaty skin.

“We made a mess.” Yuta’s tone was sheepish, vibrating your neck as he spoke into it. “It definitely reeks of sex in here too…” you felt your face burning, realizing there wasn’t any windows open to allow ventilation.

“He’ll figure it out regardless.” Yuta sounded defeated but you could feel a smile on his face. “I’ll take the blame… since I’m the one who can’t resist your breasts.”

“You better.”

[izeas-null]

for absolutely no fucking reason

my monitor today randomly decided to absolutely reject input

i tried multiple cords

multiple devices

multiple ports

only one decided to work at all BUT EVERY FUCKING 10 MINUTES IT WOULD CHANGE

I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO FUCKING FIX THIS THING FOR ALMOST 2 HOURS NOW NOTHING EVER WORKS UNLESS IT JUST DECIDES HOW IS IT THIS BROKEN

ive just now got it to read all 3 ports and all 4 devices but i still had to repeatedly jam everything in and out and im scared to even stand up lest it piss itself all over my desk again because literally me standing up is a fucking factor in this shit show

fuck you acer

[cherry-hulu]

— NDA

Synopsis: Face planted in the sheets. Mingyu thrusting roughly behind you, constantly hitting that oh so sweet spot. Post concert depression who?

Warnings: Idol!KMG x Fem carat!reader, post concert sex, unprotected sex, underskirt, blow job, face, fucking, pet names (princess, baby, good girl), belly bulge, throat bulge, size kink, lmk if I missed anything

When a staff came up to you, pulling you to the corner and asking you about what you'd think about a special backstage meeting. You definitely did not thought that it would come to this. You didn't even expect to be invited. All you knew was that you and Mingyu have been meeting eyes all throughout the concert and that your tummy could definitely be mistaken for a butterfly conservatory with how wild it was in there.

And now it feels like your guts were being rearranged to accommodate Mingyu's size. Creating an indentation of his cock, carving his own— not so little— space within you.

It all happened so quickly. One moment he was pulling you aside and the second he was pushing you up against the door, body to body, skin to skin, having an aggressive make out session. Nothing about it was gentle. Eager masked by aggression motivated each movement done to each other.

You gasped as he kisses down your neck, down to your cleavage while sliding down the sleeves of your pretty blouse alongside your bra. With one hand, and lips attached to your skin, your mounds were exposed to him in no second. He'd done this a hundred times— more than enough to know that he doesn't have that much time.

So he rushes. Picking you up, your legs wrap around his waist in instict causing your clothed cunt to slightly rub on his abs causing both of you to moan.

Mingyu lays you down on the couch as he takes his shirt off before diving back into your chest. You moan as your hands touch all over him. Feeling his skin, his muscles, his biceps as he grinds on you. With your skirt lifted slightly up, his hard on slots perfectly between your clothed cunt causing both of you to moan during the kiss.

You palm him, holding his heavy cock in your hands before kneeling in front of him and pushing his pants and boxers down to reveal him. Standing proudly and sticking against his stomach, tip red and angry with sploches of pre-cum. With no hesitation you take him in, eyes keeping contact with his— just like how you were during the concert.

"Fuck. There you are again with those damn eyes." Mingyu mutters as he grabs the back of your head patting it down. "Such a good girl, getting on her knees for me without command. You really want me that bad huh? Enjoy me princess, not alot of people get this chance." As he watches you take his cock.

You do it slowly as to enjoy the moment and also because it would be impossible to take him in one go. And Mingyu was so obsessed with you. His hands wrapped around your throat feeling the bulge caused by him, small tears running down your eyes as you look up at him with doe eyes. "Fucking perfect."

Slowly you start to move, bobbing your head forwards and backwards. You had a slow pace, adjusting to his size careful on not going too hard incase you might choke. It didn't took long before Mingyu grabbed your head and started facefucking you instead.

Throwing his head back, your cunt throbbed even more, a visible and prominent wet patch on your panties as you saw him. The hand on your back, the weight of his cock in your mouth, his thrusting motions. It was all so hot.

He thinks the same as he looked back down at you, looking up at him with eyes big, mouth wide open stretched around his cock. "Shit baby you're so fucking hot." He mutters before pulling out. Cock immediately standing back up against his stomach. He was rock hard.

"Wan' more please.." You whimper straightening your posture as you look up at him more, pouting. "You'll get more princess don't worry, but right now I want nothing more than your pussy." He says as he lays you back down, bending your knees and lifting your skirt up slightly giving him a perfect view of your clothed cunt.

Due to the hot weather in South Korea, you opted to just wear panties out and decided to just be more careful with your movements. "What a slut, walking around with no safety shorts on? Jumping at my concert, while giving me those eyes? You were just waiting to be fucked weren't you?" Mingyu says as he pulls back the middle of your panties before letting it snap back and rubbing on the wet spot right after.

He lifts the panties off you immediately revealing your throbbing pretty pussy. "Pretty and pink, perfect princess." While rubbing your bud.

Coming near you, you spread your legs immediately accommodating his size. Mingyu slaps his fat cock on your pussy a couple of times, teasing the tip on your entrance before slowly pushing in.

It felt so surreal, he was stretching you so much. Immediately, your upper half lifted off the couch, mouth hanged wide open as he eases into you. His hand wraps around the whole circumference of your waist making him harder "So small baby."

Propping your legs on his shoulder after easing himself in. He started off slowly before gradually speeding up as be remembers the limited time. It didn't took long before the room was echoing with the sound of skin slapping and your load moans and whimpers that just gets Mingyu to fuck you harder each time.

"S.. S.. So.. B.. Big.. M.. M.. Min.. G.. Gyu," While he fucks you relentlessly. He rubs the bulge on your stomach as he chuckes lightly "Weren't you just talking relentlessly earlier? Where'd that go?"

He flips you around—penis still lodged in you—now face planted into the couch as he fucks and reached you deeper and harder. The furniture now moving inch by inch away from it's original position. His hand rests on your back, while his other hand lifts your skirt up and spanks your ass loving the way it turns red.

"I.. I'm cl.. close," You whimper. "Me too baby, me too." Mingyu responds as he fucks you harder than possible. A few more thrusts and you were creaming all over him creating a white ream in between your connection. One more hard thrust before he pulls out and cums all over your back, jacking off lightly to ride his high.

Resting his fat cock on atop of your but, he kisses your back lightly as he whispers you praises and affirmations. "Did so good baby, 'm so proud of you."

Mingyu turns your around and sees your fucked up state. Kissing your forehead, he spreads your legs around him once again startling you as your eyes open wide. He starts to go down your body as he looks up at you witha smug look on his face. "What? I'm just getting you your moneys worth."

[dazevi]

vi x reader but they’re tribbing… for science reasons ofc !!

tribbing with vi | vi x fem!reader, shortfic, smut (18+) wc: 843

content warnings: mdni smut ; soft sex, soft top!vi, bottom!reader, kissing, scissoring/tribbing, profanities | masterlist

it’s dim in vi’s room. her sheets were slightly wrinkled beneath you, and the hum of the city outside her window was barely noticeable over the sound of her breathing—low, heavy, and uneven. she was on top of you, her strong, tattooed arms braced on either side, and her face hovered close enough for you to feel the warmth of her breath against your skin. her hair was messy, strands falling over her forehead as her blue eyes burned into yours.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” she muttered, her voice raspier than usual.

she kissed you again, slower this time. her body pressed flush against yours, the heat of skin between you almost unbearable. she’d been holding back all night, waiting, teasing herself with every touch and every kiss until she couldn’t take it anymore.

vi’s hands roamed down your sides, her fingers splaying wide as she gripped your hips, her thumbs tracing slow circles over your skin.

“is this okay?” she whispered as her forehead pressed to yours.

you nodded, biting your lip as her hands guided your thighs apart, her hips settling between them. you could feel every inch of her, the taut muscles beneath her skin, the way she moved carefully.

she moved slowly at first, testing, adjusting until her body slotted perfectly against yours. the first brush of her wet, wanting pussy against yours made you gasp, your fingers instinctively gripping her biceps, before moving down to her thigh, keeping her in place. vi could only groan at the sound, rolling her head back.

“f-fuck,” she muttered. “you feel so good, baby. so fucking good.”

“v-vi… fuck—“

she began to move, her hips rocking against yours, rutting against you, each thrust with a breathy grunt. she didn’t rush, though her body trembled with the effort to keep going. the friction was intoxicating. each roll of her hips sent a wave of pleasure through you, and vi seemed to feel it too, her groans mingling with your soft moans. she could feel how wet the both of you were right between your legs. it was sticky, and vi craves it—she craved having your slick all over her cunt, hers all over yours, the feeling of your throbbing clits brushing against each other with every thrust of her hips, oh fuck.

her hands stayed on your hips, holding you steady as she moved, her grip tightening each time you bucked against her.

“just like that,” she murmured, her voice cracking slightly. “keep moving with me, baby. you’re doing so good.”

you couldn’t help the way your hands wandered, sliding up her abs and squeezing her tit. vi let out a low growl at the feeling of your hands on her, her thrusts faltering for just a moment before she picked up the pace, grinding against you harder, faster. god, you were so fucking wet… and each sound that fell from your lips was the prettiest things she’d ever heard.

“look at me,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. you

you opened your eyes—when had you closed them?—and the sight of her took your breath away. her lips were parted, her cheeks flushed deeply, and her eyes were dark, half-lidded but still focused entirely on you.

“i-i need to see you, baby,” she said, her voice shaky from the pleasure building in her stomach, between her legs. “need to see how good i’m making you feel—o-oh, ffuckkkk—“

“v-violet, i—”

your body arched off of the bed, and you gasped as the friction hit just right, her pulsing clit nudging yours, your nails digging into her thigh. vi groaned, her head dropping for a moment as she tried to collect herself, but she was too far gone, each buck of her hips becoming more erratic, more desperate.

“vi, i-i’m gonna—mmph, gonna—”

“i can feel you, baby,” she whispered, her voice thick, breath ragged as she furrowed her brows. “you’re so close, aren’t you? hah… come on, cum for me. nngh, please.”

her pleading tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. her grip on your hips tightens, her biceps flexing as she guides you both into a faster rhythm. she’s so lost in the moment, her blue eyes half-lidded as she stares at you like you’re the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. and soon enough, your body tensed, your back arching as you came all over her pussy, your moan muffled as you buried your face in her neck. fuck fuck fuck, you felt so good. vi followed soon after, her own orgasm making her hips stutter as she pressed against you one last time, her body trembling against yours. panting, she moved carefully, wanting to be closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder as she tried to catch her breath, her arms wrapping around you tightly as if she couldn’t bear to let you go.

“oh, fuck,” she finally murmured, her voice soft and full of awe. she pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes shining with pride. “i don’t think i’ll ever get enough of you.”

★ | navigation

[suguann]

Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    

And then Mio kicks the ball into— 

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Till The Water Boils Over Or The Frog Drowns.

Pairing: Yan!Gojo x Reader x Yan!Geto (JJK).

Word Count: 5.8k.

TW: No Curses AU, Dub/Con -> Non/Con (Revoked Consent), Fem!Reader, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Kidnapping, Financial Abuse, Psychological Abuse, Infantilization, Spanking, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Forced Codependency. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

[Part Two]

It started the day Satoru first introduced the concept of ‘time out�� to your relationship.

He was immature and you were stubborn. You loved him, but without Suguru’s even temper and calming presence, sparks tended to fly in a way that left you at each other’s throats. With your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes narrowed, you’d watched him sigh, roll his eyes, and storm out of your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind him. You gave yourself a second, then another – sucking in a shallow breath and shutting your eyes, talking yourself through all your usual cool-down methods. You were supposed to go out, tonight, to a restaurant you and Satoru had both been talking about for weeks. You still had about an hour before Suguru was supposed to get home, before you were all supposed to leave together. It wasn’t a good day to fight, even if you knew Suguru would smooth everything over as soon as he got home.

When you were done, you moved to the bedroom door. One hour was plenty of time to talk things out. One hour was plenty of time to kiss and make up, even if you would hold a grudge for a—

You pushed gently on the door. It didn’t budge.

You tried the knob. It turned, but the door still didn’t open.

You pressed your shoulder into the wood, shoving with more force than you ever should’ve had to use. Something shifted – a chair slotted underneath the handle, Satoru’s back leaning against the other side of the thin wood – but didn’t give.

The frustration you’d only just managed to suppress resurfaced immediately. Still pressed against your side of the door, you called out, attempting to keep your tone soft, light. “Satoru? Baby?”

 The sweetness in his voice was equally artificial. “I’m right here, angel.”

“I—I think the door might be jammed.” You tried the knob again, rattling the metal for emphasis. Satoru only hummed in response, and you grimaced. “Are you gonna let me out, ‘toru? I really don’t have time to be—”

“Ninety minutes.”

“…ninety minutes?”

“Ninety minutes,” he repeated. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “After that, we can check and see if you’re still feelin’ so bratty.”

You were almost thankful there was a door between you. If it hadn’t been there, you might not have been able to stop yourself from throttling him. “Satoru, I really don’t have time to—”

There was an obnoxiously loud hum, the sound of footsteps moving down the hall. You groaned, resting your forehead against the cool wood. Whatever. He was being petty, again. You could do ninety minutes. And, even if you couldn’t, he’d probably be back in ten, tail between his legs and pouting for your attention.

You quickly resigned yourself to passing the time as quickly as possible. You laid face-down on your bed, bemoaning your taste in men and picturing all the ways you could break up with Satoru, once he let you out. You scrolled through your phone, spamming Suguru with half-coherent messages and memes from the very depths of your camera roll. You re-organized your closet, sorting your clothes by color and alphabetizing your shoes. You managed to read a full page of one of the bulky historical fiction novels Suguru kept on the bedside table before deciding you’d be better off breaking up with both your current boyfriends.

You checked the time when you were done, and discovered that you’d managed to kill a whopping fifteen minutes.

God, you were so fucked.

Only half-consciously, you gravitated back to the door, slumping against it. You opened your mouth, ready to call out to Satoru and say whatever you had to say to get out, but another voice cut in before you got the chance. “Baby?”

Suguru. He must’ve gotten back early. You let out a shallow sigh, letting your head fall forward in relief. “Right here,” you said, making no effort to hide your exasperation. “Can you open the door? I think ‘toru blocked me in.”

His deep chuckle was muffled, but still clearly audible. “I’m afraid I can’t. He’s still pretty mad, couldn’t stop talking about how you copped an attitude with him.” There was a pause, a shoulder being rested against the other side of the door. “I think he mentioned something about a dress?”

You were glad he couldn’t see you – he would’ve hated the way you grimaced at the reminder. “It’s a nice restaurant. I wanted to dress up a little, but he’s just so immature, and when he saw the dress I wanted to wear—”

Suguru cut in. “The red one, right?”

“Yeah, with the window on the chest.” You sighed. “Please, Suguru? I really don’t want to spend the next hour of my life locked in my own bedroom.”

Another laugh, this one more stifled than the first. “He just knows how pretty you’d look, babe. Probably doesn’t want anyone else to find out how beautiful our partner is.” When you didn’t respond, he added, “Didn’t he just buy you somethin’ brand new? He can’t complain if he’s the one who picked it out, right?”

You pursed your lips. He had – a pure ivory dress, a little shorter than mid-thigh and sleeveless, not exactly conservative, but not meant to show as much skin as you usually preferred to. It’d come with matching gold jewelry, and you’d politely accepted the gift, kissed him on the cheek, and stashed it under your bed to rot. It wasn’t ugly, nothing so expensive could be, but it suited Satoru’s tastes, not yours.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, trying to soften the harsher edges of your distaste. “You know how Satoru is. Everything he picks out is just so—so him.”

“I’m starting to think you both might be causing problems.” You kicked the base of the door, but Suguru didn’t indulge your outburst with acknowledgement. “Just try it on, alright? If it’s that bad, we can always go without him.”

It took another minute or so of condoling, but soon enough, you were slipping into Satoru’s gifted dress, cursing as you struggled with the tiny, finicky zipper and smoothed wrinkles out of abused silk. You pulled your fingers through your hair once before returning to the bedroom door and knocking defeatedly. As if to add insult to injury, the door swung open in an instant, a smiling Suguru waiting on the threshold.

“See? Absolutely gorgeous, as always.” He leaned forward, cupping your cheek. You let his lips brush over your forehead before pulling away. Thankfully, he wasn’t cruel enough to draw it out any longer – his hand falling to yours and taking it up, tugging you gently towards the living room. “Satoru’s going to forget he was ever mad at all as soon as he sees you.”

You didn’t bother responding, only slumping against his side and letting him guide you forward. Distantly, you heard Suguru calling out to Satoru, but you were already busy – too occupied promising yourself that this would never, ever happen again to care what either of them was saying.

You would, of course, be wrong.

~

Barricaded doors quickly became a weekly inconvenience. You and Satoru fought often (never intensely and never for very long, but often), and he owned the apartment – meaning, despite all your whining, you couldn’t exactly tell him that his doors couldn’t all lock from the outside. Your ‘cool-down sessions’ (Suguru’s words, not yours) lasted anywhere from twenty minutes to a couple of hours, and Suguru was always the one to let you out. When you couldn’t be locked up and left to stew, Satoru would take it upon himself to leave the apartment – if only for as long as he thought it would take for you to forget you’d argued at all. You got used to it quickly. It wasn’t fair, you didn’t enjoy it, but you got used to it. You’d always had more patience than you really should’ve, when it came to Satoru’s antics.

And then, Suguru started showering with you.

Finding time to spend together was an ever-present obstacle in your relationship. Satoru alternated sporadically between planning lectures and grading papers late into the night to rolling his eyes at the concept of due dates and dulling out extra credit on a whim, and trying to guess if Suguru would be free was a pursuit in futility – his sermons were scheduled, but he was almost always being called out on some mysterious errand on behalf of one of his countless, faceless apostles. You didn’t work at all, but you went to school, and you kept yourself busy. You’d never be as busy as Satoru and Suguru, but you did your best to keep up with them.

Currently, you were basking in the afterglow with Suguru, your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Satoru was already gone, rushed off to some early-morning lecture, but Suguru didn’t have anything to do, and you—well, you could miss a lecture or two if it meant spending time with him. And, even if you couldn’t, it was hard to imagine tearing yourself away from the feeling of his calloused fingers tracing aimless patterns into the small of your back, of his lips pushing warm, open-mouthed kisses into your shoulders, your collarbone, your throat. His hands drifted to your hips, grip tightening ever-so-slightly, and you felt a raspy groan reverberate against the side of your neck, Suguru pulling you close as he—

“Save it,” you said, drawing back. He pouted and you grinned, pecking the corner of his jaw and sitting up, letting his sheets pool around your waist. “Just for a few minutes – I feel gross.” A full groan, this time. You laughed, combing his disheveled hair back and pressing another kiss into his forehead, this one lingering just a beat longer than the first. “You’ll survive a shower, Suguru.”

You felt him shift underneath you. Before you had a chance to pull away, he was sitting up, his arms still around your waist – keeping you messily laid across his lap. “I’ll come with you.”

“You’ll wait your turn.” And then, when he only hummed in response, “I’m being serious. Somebody in this relationship has to wash their hair every now and then.”

His face was already buried in the crook of your neck, and he was moving toward the edge of the mattress with your body still tucked against his chest. He was planning on carrying you, presumably. Sometimes, it felt like if it were up to Suguru, you’d never walk anywhere on your own again. “I know.” His voice was still raspy with sleep, his usual articulation weighed down by the fatigue that came with a morning spent in bed. “I’ll help.”

“That’s really sweet, but—” You strung your arms around his neck as he stood up, taking you with him. “—I think I’ll be alright on my own, Suguru.”

For the first time all morning, his eyes flickered open, wandering idly in your direction. He held your gaze for a beat, then another.

Finally, the edge of his lips quirked upward – the sly, knowing grin you’d fallen in love with soon painted across his lips. When he spoke, it was in a tone to match, all confidence and cloying, calculated sweetness. “No.”

You faltered, at that. “…no?”

“Don’t wanna be away from you for that long,” he mumbled, by way of explanation. “Whatever you need to do, I’ll take care of. Don’t want you to have to worry your pretty little head over anything.”

You tried your best to laugh, but it was a weak effort, better left unacknowledged. “I don’t know how I feel about my boyfriend offering to, I don’t know, shave my legs or something.”

He only soldiered on, as if you hadn’t said anything at all.

~

You felt Satoru’s hands on your waist first, then his chest against your back. His mouth found the curve of your throat as if by instinct, teeth grazing against a bruise Suguru had left in the same spot the day before. You felt him lean against you and dropped the knife you were holding onto a nearby cutting board, bracing yourself on the edge of the counter to compensate.

You glanced over your shoulder as his head bowed, face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. He must’ve just gotten home – he was still wearing his sunglasses, only the first three buttons on his shirt undone. You grinned, twisting around just far enough to kiss the top of his head before turning back to your ingredients. “Rough lecture?”

“Grad students,” he muttered, the dread in his voice plainly audible. “One more fucking extension request, and I swear, I’ll fail the entire class.”

You hummed, letting him sink further into you. You might’ve let him stay there, too, if one of his hands hadn’t fallen to your ass while the other slipped underneath your loose shirt. Before he could creep upward, you jabbed an elbow into his chest. “Keep it in your pants. You still smell like a college campus.”

Of course, he didn’t budge. “But I missed you,” he whined, as shameless as he was clingy. “I had to leave so early, and I was stuck in my office for so long, and I’m gonna die if I have to wait any longer. Is that what you want? For me to die?”

“You could always go to Suguru, if you’re that insatiable.”

“But I want you.” You felt a thumb slip below the waistband of your sweatpants (or, Suguru’s sweatpants, technically – he’d been unbearable unless you were wearing his clothes, recently) and batted his hand away. Your efforts were, predictably, unsuccessful. “Please, baby?” And then, after a beat. “You don’t care about dinner more than you care about me, do you?”

You felt something delicate inside of you falter, crack, then fall apart entirely. It was strange – how long you could nurse a wound without acknowledging it existed at all. “It’s not that, I just—” You stuttered, then stopped entirely. You deflated underneath Satoru’s weight, and as if in response, he held you that much tighter, keeping you as close as you could be, lest he carve open his chest and force you into the open cavity. “I… I guess I feel like I haven’t really been doing a lot for you two, lately. You pay all the bills, and Suguru goes out of his way to take care of me, and there just… It makes me feel kind of useless.” You tried to punctuate the confession with a smile, a laugh, but both were hollow beyond the point of recognizability. It would’ve been better if you hadn’t tried at all. “You get it, right? I just—I don’t want to be the only one not doing anything.”

There was a beat of silence. You felt Satoru settle against you, his chest pressing into your back before he pulled away, detaching from you entirely. You sighed, letting yourself relax.

And then, just as suddenly, you were off of your feet and in Satoru’s arm, one tucked under the bend of your knees while the other supported your back. You managed a stammered, half-coherent protest, but if Satoru was listening, he wasn’t bothered.

He carried you out of the kitchen and into the living room, your half-finished recipe forgotten in favor of dropping you onto the nearest couch and kneeling over you, already pulling on the collar of his shirt. “Sounds like our baby’s been thinkin’ too much.” He was grinning, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. “Let me put a stop to that.”

You opened your mouth, but you didn’t have time to respond. His mouth was already crashing into yours; swallowing down anything you might’ve said and replacing it with a breathy moan, a haze over your conscious thoughts.

You didn’t bother trying to talk your way out from underneath Satoru, again.

~

You couldn’t breathe.

It took you a moment to realize what was wrong, another to put together why. You felt the blunt tip of Suguru’s cock hit the back of your throat as Satoru’s chest pressed into yours, the latter pressing the air out of your lungs while the former forced you to choke what little was left up. Satoru had set a relentless pace; his thrusts brutal, his tempo erratic, his hips crashing into yours with enough force to bruise. Two of Suguru’s thick, calloused fingers were lodged between your body and Satoru’s drawing quick, precise patterns into your clit, while both of Satoru’s hands were wrapped around the underside of your thighs, keeping your knees pinned to your chest, your body folded in half and pressed into the mattress. They’d always been taller than you, with Suguru kneeling by your head and Satoru looming over you, they both seemed so much bigger. They both seemed so, so much stronger than they ever had before.

You couldn’t breathe. The lack of oxygen was already rushing to your head, already replacing your sense of logic with a shrill, panicked buzz. Your body hurt everywhere they touched it, the warmth pooling in your core and arousal left behind by previous climaxes not enough to dull the sharp sting of Satoru’s nails against your skin, not enough to soften the harsh edge of the grin you could only barely see spread across Suguru’s lips out of the corner of your eye. It was a struggle just to move your jaw, and even then, any sounds you were able to make were borderline incoherent – your little chants of ‘red, red, red’ so stifled and so garbled by Suguru’s cock that you couldn’t have blamed him for not hearing you at all. It was only when you tried to pull your head back that his eyes fell away from where Satoru’s cock was fucking into your dripping cunt and to your face, tears of distress already beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. You let out one more panicked cry, hoping beyond hope that he’d be able to see the fear in your expression and know something was wrong, but that grin you had loved so much only widened, sharpened. “Like that, princess?” You felt his free hand on the top of your head, fingers carding through your hair while the patterns being pushed into your sensitive clit sped up, intensified. “Faster,” he cooed to Satoru, his voice laced with something vicious and mocking. “If she can still cry, she can still fuck.”

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it. Suguru just liked to be mean in bed, and Satoru liked to indulge him. That was the only reason they were doing this to you, that was the only reason Satoru listened; leaning that much more of his weight onto as his cock beat against the walls of your cunt. “Fuck,” Satoru muttered, as Suguru’s cock twitched against the roof of your mouth. “Got tighter when you said that. Is that what you want? For me and him to fuck you unconscious?”

This time, you didn’t try to pull back, you jerked – lurching out of Suguru’s hold, drawing back until you could gasp and pant and fill your aching lungs. “Red,” you half-choked, half-cried. “Red, red, stop, too much, I can’t—”

Satoru cut you off with a throat groan. You felt his form tense against yours, heard a shameless moan spill past his lips, and suddenly, it was like you’d forgotten how to breathe entirely. “Too close for that,” he muttered, his lips close enough to ghost over the shell of your ear. “You can take it for me, angel.”

You couldn’t, but you didn’t have time to tell him that. You opened your mouth, but all you could seem to spit out was a keening, pitiful whine as you felt something deep in your core pull taut and snap, as your cunt clenched around him and you came undone on Satoru’s cock for the nth time. At the same time, he went stiffed above you, forcing his hips flush with yours and filling your abused pussy with something thick and searing. The feeling was alien, strange. You could’ve sworn he said he would wear a condom, tonight.

It felt like you laid there for a small eternity – trapped under Satoru’s limp body, Suguru still petting idly through your hair. You stared unblinkingly at the ceiling until, days later, Satoru pulled himself upright with a raspy grunt, turning to Suguru. You were vaguely aware of his head being lowered into Suguru’s lap, moving to finish the job you hadn’t wanted to, but that seemed distant, unimportant. The room was too small, too closed-off. You weren’t getting enough air. You were too warm. You were too small. You—

You needed to leave.

Your body was on the edge of the mattress before your mind could make the conscious decision to move. You were shaking, despite the damp humidity clinging to your skin, but you tried to ignore that and focus on getting your feet underneath you, on fishing Satoru’s shirt off the floor and pulling it over your head. You’d need pants, too, and your wallet – maybe you’d still have a little cash stowed away, something from before Satoru insisted you start carrying one of his platinum cards. You’d spend the night in a hotel, or better yet, rent a car – get out of Tokyo altogether. You had a friend who lived outside of the city – or, you used to, at least. You couldn’t remember the last time you talked to someone other than Satoru and Suguru.

You made it to the doorway before Suguru called out. “Going somewhere, princess?”

You froze, but didn’t look over your shoulder. You could barely stand. You needed to go. “I just—I think I need a little air.”

“Give us a minute. Me or ‘toru should go with you.” There was a lull to his voice, an airiness just barely audible over the slick, sloppy sound of Satoru’s mouth moving over his shaft. You could remember admiring that about him, once, constantly thinking about how lucky you were to have such a cool, confident boyfriend. Right now, though, it was hard to think of his unfaltering composure as anything but inhuman. “It just wouldn’t be safe to let you—”

“I need air,” you repeated, because it was true, because you did. Little, black spots were already starting to dot your vision, and it felt like someone was trying to wrap their hands around your throat and squeeze. “I… I think I might be gone for a while, too.”

For all his tenderness, Suguru didn’t sound very concerned. “How long?”

“A couple hours,” you tried, and then, much more quietly, when he let out a disbelieving hum. “…a few days?”

This time, Suguru didn’t have to say anything at all. Leaning against the doorway, Satoru’s cum still dripping down the inside of your thigh, it took less than a minute for you to crack on your own. “I think we… I think I might need a little space.”

There was another beat of silence, occupied only by a soft groan from Suguru, the sound of noisy swallowing from Satoru. Finally, he sighed. You didn’t dare to look, but you could picture him shaking his head, smiling as he rolled his eyes. Acting as if you’d just said the stupidest thing in the world. “What do you think, Satoru? Have we waited long enough.”

“—too long.” Satoru’s voice was hoarse, breathy. In your peripheral, you could see him dragging the back of his hand across his lips as he raised his head. “We’ve had everything ready for months, now.”

That was all Suguru needed to hear. He turned back to you, letting his head lull to the side. “Come back to bed, won’t you, princess?”

You didn’t respond. What little air you still had hitched in your collapsing throat as you attempted to move forward, only for a hand to catch your shoulder and hold you in-place. It was Satoru – now standing less than a full step behind you. He didn’t bother with a warning before wrapping his free arm around your waist and dragging you into his chest and off of your feet. You made a weak effort to thrash, to squirm, to dig your nails into the forearm laid over your midriff, but Satoru didn’t make a sound, didn’t let you go, only hauling you back to where Suguru sat on the edge of the mattress. You shouldn’t have felt as betrayed as you did. They’d both always been able to pick you up and throw you around like a kitten, being carried from place to place by its scruff. It was always only going to be a matter of time before they stopped listening to your half-hearted protests entirely.

“Over the knee,” Suguru said with a sort of flippant, beckoning gesture. “I want to make sure we get off on the right foot.”

Wordlessly, unceremoniously, you were dropped face-down into Suguru’s lap – his thighs pressing into your exposed stomach. Satoru lowered himself to the floor in front of you, sitting cross-legged and reaching out, cupping your face delicately. More out of reflex than anything intelligent, you tried to push yourself up, but a hand on the small of your back was enough to keep you paralyzed. Sometime between the doorway and the bed, the shaking had gotten worse. You doubted you’d be able to keep your legs underneath you, anymore. “Twenty-five,” he announced – an executioner reading out his victim’s sentence. “Fifteen for trying to leave us, and ten more for not listening to me. Does that sound fair, Satoru.”

“So mean, Sugu’,” Satoru whined, but you could already see a crooked smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “The poor thing doesn’t even know what’s going on.”

“Which is why we have to make a strong impression. I want her to know there’ll be consequences for misbehavior.” You felt his hand drifting up the length of your spine, lingering on the sensitive junction between your shoulder blades. “Twenty-five, okay, princess? I’m going to need you to count for me – if you lose track, we’ll have to start over.”

“Suguru, ‘toru, I don’t—I don’t understand what—” You were cut off by a sudden, bruising blow to the plush of your ass – all force, no friction. It took you a second to realize that it was Suguru’s hand, another to consciously acknowledge that he’d spanked you. Like you were some bratty toddler. Like he wanted to hurt you.

It took another lash to know you out of your spell-bound state and send a keening, pitchy cry spilling past your lips. The tears you’d managed to hold back minutes ago were back in full-force, dripping down your cheeks and pooling on your chin, accompanied by the occasional sniffle or ragged sob. Suguru hummed, but any sympathy he might’ve had remained unexpressed, hidden behind a thick veil of strict impassivity. “I need you to count. I know it’s hard, but it’ll only get more difficult if you don’t cooperate.” He paused, clicked his tongue. “We’re still on one. Are you going to be good, or do I have to get the belt?”

“Hurts, Suguru, you’re hurting—”

Another blow, this one to the back of your thighs and twice as harsh as the first two. Meekly, you mumbled a weak “…one.”

You couldn’t see past your own tears by the fifth strike, and by the tenth, you were sobbing openly. Each blow leaves your skin burning and your ass pulsing, but despite everything, he was far from brutal. His pace was measured, precise, and he was strategic – careful to never abuse the same spot to the point of numbness. After the fifteenth, you sniffled and forced yourself to raise your head, meeting Satoru’s eyes and silently pleading for his pity, for his help. Rather than empathy, you found a glassy stare and his hand in his lap, pumping idly over his cock. A few hours ago, you could picture yourself teasing him for not being able to go a full minute without someone touching him, even himself. Right now, the sight alone was enough to make bile rise into the back of your throat.

His thumb ran over your cheek, his palm settling under your chin and tilting your head back. “Don’t give me that look. This is twice as gentle as he’s ever been with me.”

By the time it was over, you were near-inconsolable, every number followed immediately by a string of distorted gibberish, a disjointed plea for him to stop, or be gentle, or let you go. You laid limp across Suguru’s lap as he drew slow, tender patterns into your abused flesh, every little touch sparking a new kind of pain, dragging another ragged sob up from somewhere deep and visceral in your chest. He was talking to you, cooing sweet nothings, but you couldn’t hear him. You didn’t want to hear him. You wanted to leave.

But, you couldn’t, and even if you’d had the strength to try, you wouldn’t have gotten very far. You hadn’t seen him move, but at some point, Satoru must’ve left the room. When your crying began to wane and you could bare the thought of opening your eyes, you found him standing in front of you, holding a glass of water in one hand and three white pills in the other. “Open up,” he said, drawing out each syllable for a beat longer than he really had to. “It’ll help with the pain, promise.”

You pursed your lips, grit your teeth, but Suguru’s thumb pressed into a fresh bruise and fear immediately overwhelmed your sense of caution. Suguru took precious seconds to reposition you – drawing you up by your shoulders to straddle his thigh – and Satoru’s hand found its way back to your cheek, his thumb tapping your bottom lip and slipping onto your tongue as you, reluctantly, opened your mouth. The pills were first, allowed to sit on your tongue until their bitterness reached the back of your throat, then the water, poured sloppily enough for the excess to spill out of the corners of your mouth. The reaction was instantaneous – a wave of nausea, then fatigue, your eyes immediately too heavy to keep open, your body too distant to justify attempting to control. You went slack, falling against Suguru, and he chuckled, bowing his head.

The last thing you felt was his mouth against your throat before everything went numb.

~

You woke up hours later, tucked into a bed that wasn’t yours and in more pain than you’d ever felt before.

Shock and terror startled you into consciousness before you could so much as attempt to fade back into blissful oblivion. You tried to curl up, to make yourself as small and as safe as possible, but your leg caught on something – a leather cuff, discovered after throwing the sheets that’d been laid over you to the side. A shackle, lined in velvet and sitting loosely at the base of your ankle, a silver chain connecting it to an unseen point underneath the bed. You gave it another tug, just to check, and unsurprisingly, it refused to budge. You choose to look away before the pit quickly opening up inside of your chest could deepen any further.

Instead, you turned your attention outward – to the rest of the bedroom. It wasn’t the one you shared with Satoru and Suguru, or the undecorated guestroom Satoru had semi-converted into a home office. The walls were a pale pink, the shelves already stocked with stuffed animals, fairy lights, jewelry boxes that (knowing Satoru) were no doubt filled to the brim. You weren’t wearing Suguru’s shirt anymore, either. Your blood ran cold as you glanced down and found yourself in a pastel blue nightgown – all lace and silk and frills no one could ever hope to actually sleep in. You didn’t know whether to be disgusted that they’d re-dressed you while you were unconscious, without your permission, or thankful they hadn’t waited until you were awake enough to try and stop them.

Seconds seemed to move in thick, dripping clumps. You couldn’t be sure how long passed until your disoriented stillness was interrupted, but by the time the plain, white door (a neat row of undone deadbolts visible above to the knob) swung open, Satoru stepping through with Suguru following shortly behind him. Automatically, you started to move towards them, but caught yourself, pressing you back into the headboard and crossing your arms over your chest, as if that gave you any kind of authority. As if there was any authority you could have, chained to the floor in the bedroom of a pre-schooler.

“You were beginning to worry us,” Suguru started, sitting on the foot of the bed. “But, then again, our little princess was always a delicate one, wasn’t she?”

You stiffened, bristled. You opened your mouth, but closed it as Satoru draped an arm over your shoulders, collapsing next to you. “Here,” he said, holding something out. “Suguru wanted to make you ask, but I’m not that stingy.”

 You attempted to shift away from him, but Satoru had never made things that easy. He clung to you that much tighter as your eyes fell to his hand, finding—

A cup.

A sippy cup, pink and plastic and decorated with little, glittering clouds.

The nausea was immediate, nearly overwhelming. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to throw it across the room. You wanted to do anything but accept it, but your throat was bone-dry, a steady throbbing already begging to root in the back of your skull. Wordlessly, you snatched it out of his hand and (with more than a little strain) pulled off the lid, drinking as quickly as you could. Satoru’s nails scraped against your bicep, but neither of them commented.

Suguru waited until you were finished to go on. “You’ll get used to it, after a few weeks. It’s really not that different from our prior relationship, just a few aesthetic changes ‘toru and I thought a—” He paused, grinned. “—softer environment might suit you.”

“We can be more honest now, too.” Satoru sounded too giddy, too happy. “Those last couple of days practically killed me – having to watch you leave the apartment, acting all independent n’ shit. This way, there won’t be anything stopping us from keeping you all to ourselves.”

A beat passed in silence. It took you a moment to realize you were supposed to say something, and another to actually open your mouth, to find your voice when all you wanted to do was shrivel up and shut your eyes. “I don’t really understand what’s going on,” you muttered, like that would make it true. Like enough stuttering, simpering obliviousness would be what made them change their minds. “When are you going to let me go?”

Beside you, you heard Satoru try and fail to suppress a breath of a laugh, and Suguru’s grin only seemed to widen.