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murdrdocs · 1 year ago

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SAW YOUR END. void stiles

description. it's hard not to give into the Nogitsune. he does have the face of your favorite person, after all

includes. DARK CONTENT 18+, SMUT 18+, SLIGHT DUBCON (r wants it but for safe measures), fem! reader, impact play, choking, degradation, stiles is possessed, forced impregnation, baby trapping (kinda), snowballing, reader is secretly in luv with stiles, implied that stiles is present, some angst, title from 'cherry waves' by deftones

wc: 4.5k+

→ kinktober masterlist

He’s more intimidating up close than you would’ve thought.

You’ve been telling yourself that if faced with the shell of your best friend, you could handle yourself. The Nogitsune doesn’t fight. He plots, plans, weakens you with words alone. And you thought this was something you could control. No amount of taunts or insults or manipulation could catch you off guard.

But you somehow forgot that while he would slowly weaken your resolve, he would be wearing the face and body and voice of your best friend. You hadn’t considered that this would make you weak in and of itself, heart already thudding loudly behind your chest when you saw those amber eyes, mouth dry when he spoke your name, hands shaking with the desire to meet him in the middle when he reached out for you.

You find yourself to be more fragile than you thought, lip quivering and eyes welling up when his gaze hardens instead of softens. Your entire body trembling when he starts his slow torture, words perfectly chosen to hit the spots of you that will be most affected.

He’s unpredictable, possibly completely predictable if you’d been thinking with the parts of you that excelled in reason instead of the parts that excelled in emotion.

But his unpredictable nature leaks into his actions, his desires, as his taunts turn from ones to break you down to ones that are designed to have you as putty in his hands. Promises to give you your deepest desires, ones you were previously sure that no one other than yourself and your diary knew. Claims that he could fulfill your wishes if you would just give in.

It all sounds too good to be true, too simple and sweet and perfect. But again, rationale isn’t your strong suit at this point, so you’re standing before him, chest pressed to his, sooner than you realize it.

Heads tilted, lips closing in on the others, tips of noses brushing until they poke at the others cheek as lips finally press together.

Chapped pillows against moisturized, teeth clacking and spit swapping. It’s easy for you to forget that this is a trick, that this is all an elaborate scheme, while he kisses you like he wants it.

The Nogitsune kisses you as if he’s trying to actually devour you. He sucks your saliva up as it pools between your mouths, he licks around your mouth and tongues at your bones, his hands claw at your body to pull you tighter and closer to him until you can feel the muscle tone of Stiles’ body.

The grip he has on your waist –– slightly conservative as he almost refuses to venture down to your lower back –– has you stumbling, leaving your hands with nowhere else to go other than Stiles’ shirt.

Stiles has worn this shirt many times before, the cotton relaxed around his muscles. But in the short time that the Nogitsune has been present in it, it’s become distressed, tiny tears in both of the shoulders, the color a little dull from what you can tell.

The tears in the fabric have your hands pressing against Stiles’ bare skin while they fumble along the material. You flinch at the first press, surprised at just how chilled his skin is.

In comparison, you feel like you’re on fire.

Your body burns where he touches you, yet the parts his form doesn’t reach is unbearably cold, similar to his own body. You need him everywhere and nowhere all at once. You want what he can give you and resent the idea simultaneously.

Two wars raging in your mind, knocking around your head until you have a pressure and a fog that demands your attention.

Instead, you focus on reality.

You focus on the bulge that presses against denim to reach you. You focus on the thigh coming between yours. You focus on the damp feeling in your shorts, pressed warmly against your cunt.

Stiles’ thigh presses against your center and you sigh contentedly, eyebrows relaxing from their cinched position as you subtly start to submit in the Nogitsune’s hold. He breathes in when you breathe out, taking in every breath that you let out like you’re feeding them to him. He groans when you groan, echoing you.

You’re lost in his movements, trying to decipher why he does what he does while also trying to enjoy the feeling, creating too much for your head to handle, and suddenly –– without realizing it –– you’re walking backwards, legs bumping into your bed, knees bending and body falling back to thud against the mattress.

The Nogitsune doesn’t follow you. Instead, he stands at the edge, looking down at you. His eyes are dark and empty as they stare at your body from head to toe. Suddenly, you’re self conscious about his opinion, your tiny brain convincing you that the opinion of the Nogitsune correlates to that of Stiles. You shrink in on yourself, legs glued together at the knee, drawing up to your chest as you attempt to hide.

The Nogitsune isn’t having it.

He tuts, the bed dipping at the end under his weight as he kneels. Two rough and large hands find your bare knees and you shiver, both thankful and regretful that you’d decided on your smallest pair of shorts for the night as you’d previously been completely unaware and unable to guess that your night would take a turn like this.

“Don’t hide from me.” It’s an order, one you wouldn’t dream of disobeying, fear of what would happen if you did preventing you from doing so. Either way, he’s spreading your legs open himself as he says it until they’re wide enough to welcome him in.

He takes your forced spread as an invitation from you, shuffling forward until he’s completely situated between your legs. The Nogitsune’s hands press into the pillow beneath you, strong forearms belonging to Stiles caging you in. He stares down at you, analyzing your reaction as he slots one thigh between both of yours, the other resting on the outside of your left leg.

“Pretty little thing like you,” he says, head tilting as his analyzing gaze shifts to one that resembles amazement. Wonder, even.

“Innocent. An angel. Would never hurt a fly.” He’s spitting the words out now as if he doesn’t believe them.

His eyes narrow, glazing over as if he’s not paying attention to you anymore, and then he blinks and you’re the main focus once more. “That’s what he’s telling me. He’s trying to get out, you know. Trying to convince me to stop. He’s begging.” He takes a second, eyes calculating as he watches you for a reaction.

You think you don’t give him one, but there’s one hidden in the minute shifts of your features.

“But you don’t want that, do you?” He comes to a conclusion. “You don’t want me to stop. If you did, you wouldn’t be humping my leg like a bitch in heat.” And you are, your hips having a mind of their own as they push and pull against the material on his legs.

You hadn’t even noticed it was happening, too busy taking in his words as if they’re a form of hypnosis. Maybe they were, because it’s not until he points out your mindless hip movements that you’re fully aware of them, hands clutching at the Nogitsune’s sides as you start to pleasure yourself.

”Want me to please you?” His voice is sickly sweet, a teasing pout on his lips, his eyes faux soft and his thick eyebrows lifted. You know he’s mocking you, it’s evident in his voice and face. But you’re already submitting, wanting just that, and telling him with a sincere nod. “Yeah?” He shouldn’t sound as hot as he does, and you shouldn’t be as horny as you are. But at this point, you’re pushing aside nearly all of your morals, deciding instead to completely give in.

“Yes. Please, Void.”

His face twists into one of surprise at the nickname. “Is that what you all call me? ‘Void’.” You stop, fearing you’d angered the usually cool headed Nogitsune. Until he smiles, slight but enough to be seen, and his hands slide down to your cunt.

“Is that what you’ll call me when I bring you to completion?”

Another nod from you, your hips starting to squirm with impatience. You’re not above begging, as you’ve proven time and time again tonight, but there’s no need.

Void slides his hand down to the waistband of your shorts, separating the elastic from your skin enough to slide his hand beneath the thin layer.

You’re not wearing any panties, something about minimal layers being good for vaginal health. In reality, few layers is best for easy access, proven with the way Void easily slides two fingers through your slit, pushing your lips apart to let you feel the cool air against your center.

Goosebumps raise along your skin, your bedroom suddenly colder than it was before.

“So fucking wet.” His words are nothing but an observation, he’s quite frankly pointing out the obvious. There’s no hidden meanings or underlying intentions woven between the syllables. It’s straightforward.

And that’s probably why you’re so embarrassed about it.

You try to close your legs, shy away from Void, but of course he doesn’t let you.

He uses his free hand to push your knees apart, holding one of them down while his occupied hand flexes as he slides his two fingers down to tease your entrance.

“You can’t hide from me, sweet thing. You know that, don’t you?” This is full of a double meaning. You feel the weight of the words as you start to surrender even more, body weighted into the mattress while Void slides Stiles’ middle finger into your fluttering walls.

There’s barely any reaction, not much of a stretch nor enough stimulation to give you much. So Void adds a second, pushing your walls apart while he inserts.

You hiss, hands instinctively going down to wrap around Void’s wrist. He doesn’t swat your hands away. He lets you wrap your fingers around his wrist, and his eyebrows raise as he waits for you to make a move.

You don’t.

Your hand limply sits curled around a slender wrist, not tight enough to really do anything at all.

Void continues his slow torture, setting a pace for his fingers that leaves so much to the imagination.

What would it be like faster? Could you hear the squelch that way? Do you want it faster? Since that would inevitably bring you to the end at a speed that would easily have you unfulfilled and desiring more.

There’s not much room to think more, however, when Void starts lowering himself, eyes trained on yours while his head steadily moves down.

When he’s above your navel, he presses a kiss right below it, and then his other hand digs into the elastic of your shorts to pull them down. You’re left bare, open, save for Void’s fingers momentarily filling you up.

“Do you taste as good as you look? Hm?” he asks you, voice low and teasing. Completely unaware of the answer, you choose to not answer at all. But Void is determined, pulling his fingers out of you and floating them over to your mouth.

Your lips part easily, without any verbal prompting from him. He slips the digits in, and lets you suck, dark eyes trained on your mouth while you clean the pale skin.

His eyebrows raise to prompt you to answer his question.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” It’s snarky, but spoken like you’ve said the sweetest, most innocent thing in the world, words almost dainty as they saunter out in a single file line from your lips.

He hums, eyes squinting as his lips raise in something that looks like admiration. “Got a mouth on you.”

And then his hands are holding your thighs open as he slots his face between your legs.

The first lick is slow, his tongue flat as he confidently traces it from just above your asshole to just above your clit.

You gasp, not expecting that wide of a trail, and then you melt.

Void’s fingers presses into your thighs as he situates them over his shoulders, giving him the perfect position to devour.

Which, he does.

You don’t know how you expected a dark spirit with thousands of years of age over you to give head, but any expectation you would have had wouldn’t have been nearly as good as it is.

None of the previous ‘best head you’ve ever had’ exists in this room. In this space. In this moment. No conscious thoughts about the possible repercussions you’ll face from finally having Stiles’ head between your thighs, but in the most unconventional way. Nothing exists outside of Stiles’ mouth on your cunt, Void driving his actions as pleasure that knocks the breath out of you is introduced to your system.

Your eyes stick to the ceiling, or they close, fear that if you look down you’ll either cum too fast and cease the best moment of your life, or you’ll be wracked with guilt when poised with Stiles’ eyes peering up at you.

But of course, Void won’t let you off that easily.

His command to look at him is so strong that you don’t even consider disobeying it. Instead, you stare down at him, eyes finding his like opposite ends of a magnet. You prepare for that guilt to make you physically sick. You prepare to get uncomfortably turned off and recoil in on yourself instead of spreading your legs wider for Void.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, you feel weirdly comforted, back arching further and your hand confidently coming down to thread through Stiles’ waves, the dark hair beginning to stick to his forehead with the physical exertion.

Void pulls Stiles’ lips from your center, rosy-pink glistening before he licks them clean. You notice Stiles’ cheeks are turning a similar color and it’s then that something switches in your head.

Suddenly, you see Stiles instead of the Nogitsune. It doesn’t help when you’re sent a smile that feels soft and familiar.

You’re pushed out of your daze by the grate of his voice.

“I bet you’re pretending I’m him, aren’t you?”

He licks up your cunt once more, another long stripe that collects your pooled arousal just before he sucks at your clit.

“Wanna scream his name while I make you cum? Hm?” It’s wrong, but you do.

You nod, the movement small and shy as you wiggle your hips to demand attention. He gives in, pressing his lips back to your sensitive nerve endings. You start to chase your orgasm, grinding your hips against Void’s face as you begin to imagine it’s Stiles between your legs instead. It’s easy to do, especially when his face is shoved in your pussy.

Stiles’ name falls from your lips with a stutter at first, unsure from your tongue as you test it. Void shakes his head. “Say it like you mean it,” he tells you before diving back in.

He bares his teeth and nips on the bud, giving way for the name of the face he wears to push from your chest with more assurance this time.

It’s the same name you moan when Void pushes you over the edge with his mouth alone.

With the post orgasm haze over your mind, bleeding into your body, it’s easier for you to see Stiles more than the Nogitsune.

His face relaxed, the light in your room brightening his dark eyes. His lips pink and swollen and glistening, spreading into a satisfied smile as your breathing starts to level out.

Logic attempts to remind you that no matter how similar they look, this isn’t Stiles. But when Void softens his eyes, his hands shake a little at your side, and his smile lacks cockiness, it’s easier than it should be for you to forget. It’s easy for you to look past the pale skin and purple under eyes and messier-than-it-should-be hair and instead see your best friend. The guy you’ve been pining after since middle school.

“You’re prettier than you know.” Void presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh, close to the junction of your pelvis and limb. The action shoves you back to reality, putting you in that post-orgasmic euphoric haze.

“Too pretty for him.” Another kiss. “Should keep you close to me, shouldn’t I?”

Maybe there’s something else affecting you other than your post-orgasm haze, because the thought starts to sound not so bad. You try to nod, but your body is heavy. You’re tired, but your body wants more.

Shamelessly, you start to grind, a pathetic attempt of receiving friction from perhaps the air, since that’s the only thing you’re getting. You feel drunk, confused, and incredibly horny.

A frustrated groan falls from your lips, Void replying in a chuckle.

“What? You want more?”

You muster your strength to nod, and you can’t see it, but you look like the prettiest fucked out thing.

Hair messy atop your head, lips swollen and slick and pouty, eyes glazed over and it looks like you’ll cry if Void turns down your advances. He briefly considers doing so, just to fuck with you, see what you’re like at your weakest, but he figures there’s another way to get you to that point.

Void’s hand slides up your torso, palm wide and calluses rough against your soft body. He rises as he does so, hand cupping your jaw, face hovering over yours as he brings your attention solely to him. You blink dumbly, waiting for his next move.

“You know I’m gonna need something from you, too, baby, right? And not just those pretty sounds you make when you cum.” You stare at him, feeling like it’s all you've been doing this entire encounter. But there are no words, nothing for you to say to him.

You lick your lips and it takes longer than it should for a response to form in your head, each word appearing one at a time. “What … do you need?”

He kisses the side of your neck and then his hand slides down to rest over the area. You stay still, breath sitting in your chest, unmoving.

He sucks in a breath himself, as if he’s taunting you with how relaxed and unphased he is. Suddenly, you begin to feel like trapped prey.

“I need to hurt you, honey.” He tilts his head, eyes scanning over your body, calculating. “Not a lot, just enough to feed myself.” His grip on your throat seems to get tighter, more secure. “That’s okay, right?”

You’re dumb. So fucking dumb and clueless and desperate.

Because you’re nodding, hand pathetically circling Stiles’ wrist when pressure is applied to the sides of your throat.

“That’s a good girl.” He kisses your forehead, and then your cheek is struck.

You gasp, the sound is an instinct from your body. It forces you to breathe, and the airflow combined with the sting from your cheek feels good. You wonder if they’ll be a mark tomorrow, and the thought excites you instead of worries you.

You don’t consider the lie you’ll have to tell Scott or Lydia. You don’t think about how you’ll potentially feel looking in the mirror in the morning. All you think about is how you want Void to do it again.

Especially when he looks like this while he does it: Veins along his arms and neck turning black as he seemingly takes the pain, not away like Scott can, but as Void takes your pain he adds to it. Multiplies it, even.

It’s not filled with gloom, nor despair, but there’s something heavy that feels vaguely uncomfortable from the lack of attention, like an itch that needs to be scratched.

You need more.

Void seems to sense this.

“On all fours,” he instructs you, hand leaving your neck to allow you to do as told.

There’s the sound of shuffling, not just from you. Metal against metal, fabric against fabric. More shuffling, the added weight against the bed is gone, and then hands are pulling you back towards the edge.

There’s barely any wait, any anticipation, before your walls are forcibly stretched.

You wish you could see it, maybe if you were doing it in missionary, but beggars truly can’t be choosers and you’re perfectly fine with taking what you can get.

Void is at least a few inches deep before you consider the option of protection. You bring it up to him, glancing over your shoulder and your voice wobbling as you say it.

Void tuts as if he’s disappointed, shaking his head.

“You don’t want his babies?” He speaks through a pout, the epitome of condescending. “Don’t want to be the whore with her crush’s seed festering in her womb? ‘Cause I think you do.”

His hand presses flat against the middle of your back, pressing you down into the mattress, leaving you with your ass up.

Void bottoms out completely, a hiss sounding through your teeth as you try to adjust as quickly as you can.

He doesn’t give you much grace, instantly setting a pace that has you gasping, pornographic sounds slipping from between your lips. It’s nearly exactly as you’d imagined it, loud with the squelches of you and Void combining in the purest way possible. But it’s dirty, fast and lacking any neatness or grace.

He fucks you just as you expected from him: Mercilessly, with little to no concern for how you feel.

As if to emphasize this, he spanks you, the clap loud to the point where it seems fake. But the sting left behind on your left ass cheek begs to differ.

It’s not long before his thrusts become erratic, most likely from the build up of the entire ordeal. A lack of rhythm becomes present as he fucks you harder, with more intention behind each aggressive snap of his hips into yours. You’re sent further and further into the mattress as he does so, your lips pressing against your definitely sodden sheets. You attempt to maneuver your head to where he can hear you, a plea for him to cum anywhere but inside of you desperately climbing up your throat.

But it gets stuck behind your mouth. Void’s hand presses into the back of your head, forcing your face into the sheets, and just when you feel as if you can’t breathe, his hand wraps around your throat and he pulls you up, your back against his chest.

His chin sits on your shoulder, his lips brush your earlobe as he speaks.

“Gonna cum in you, yeah? Fill you with little Nogitsune babies. Be a lot better than the little weaklings he would give you. Bet you would look so pretty carrying my kids. Tits all swollen,” his free hand circles around your waist at this point, climbing up to pinch an already sensitive nipple between his pointer and thumb.

You hiss, attempting to recoil away from the clamp. There’s nowhere for you to go, completely closed in by Void in all places. He’s still in you, rock hard and hot and fucking up into your walls with a depth that stings, his tip not too far from your cervix. His body is around you, arms circled around you, hands at your neck and stomach, pressing you back against him.

You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. And with another orgasm brewing low in your belly, you want the opposite. It’s hard to admit, and it’s not like you will ever admit it, but you have the sudden craving for Void to fill you up.

You whine, pretending to be disinterested by the thought he puts in your head. But Void continues speaking, voice heavy and a little slurred as he continues to take the pain he’s inducing.

“Feel so good around me. It’s like this is how it was supposed to be. You and him. Maybe you two were made for each other.” He chuckles cruelly, almost taunting you with the idea. You have to bite back a sob because that sounds so nice, but it seems impossible after this.

You can’t imagine Stiles ever wanting to be with you after this.

“He wants that, too, you know. But ‘s not gonna happen when I’m here.” He kisses your cheek, and it would be romantic in any other situation.

You can’t even consider the idea of romance when Void’s hand squeezes at your throat and his voice drops a few octaves as he tells you: “You’re mine.”

His hand slides from your tit to between your thighs, two fingers circling your clit rapidly, meant to send you over the edge. You do so a few moments later, satisfied that he hadn't made you beg while your body completely relaxes until you let out a sound that is practically inhuman.

It’s a mix between a growl and a moan and a sob. You sound like a wounded animal. And while Void cums in you, you feel like one too.

He lets you go, allowing you to collapse face first into your bed.

Both of you are still for a moment, Void's heavy body atop of yours as you both lay limply on your mattress. Of course, he moves first, separating from you and letting you lay there in silence.

There’s no tranquility, no comfort, just thick silence.

You’re spent, fucked out as you attempt to catch your breath.

It’s almost impossible to do so when Void lifts your hips a little and then presses his tongue flat against your entrance. You gasp, experiencing too much too soon, and again attempt to thrash away. He holds you still, strong hands holding you up as his lips pucker around your hole. He sucks, and it becomes clear to you that he’s retrieving his own cum from inside of you.

When he’s finished, he flips you over and goes to your mouth, and it’s shameful that you still don’t have to be asked to open. You do it automatically, lips parting as Void presses his to yours. The swap is disgusting, both in taste and texture, but you lose yourself in the messiness of the kiss.

By the time Void pulls away, there’s drool and cum from both of you sliding down your chin. He smiles at the sight, gently tapping your cheek before doing the same with a much harder slap on your abused cunt.

This time, you don’t recoil, or writhe away, or even make a sound. You’re completely submissive, the only indicator of the pain being the way your stomach flexes.

Void grins, satisfied with how he’s made you. You expect more from him. You’re expecting him to tug his dick back up, so you’re sat watching him dumbly as he mechanically redresses.

You don’t move, too tired to do so, just blinking languidly while pale skin is recovered.

Just before Void leaves, he tells you: “I’m not done with you.”

And it’s both a threat and a promise. One you hope he keeps.

#🕸️ 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐑 #stilestobr!#void stiles x reader #void stiles x you #void stiles smut #void stiles #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski smut #stilesworld!#stiles stilinski #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year ago

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DAY FIVE: Eddie Munson x fem!reader 18+

“That’s way too steep.”

Behind you, the boy snorted. “Nah, c’mon, babe. S’fine.”

You’d spent the entire afternoon throwing yourself down hillsides with Eddie and the rest of his friends, watching the kids with wide eyes as they went down head first, sliding on trash can lids and stolen cafeteria trays. And when each of their noses got too red, too cold, fingers frostbitten and numb, they’d stumbled home one by one until it was only you and Eddie left.

He’d monopolised the only good sledge from the get go, throwing snowballs at anyone who tried to wrestle him for it. He didn’t need to try too hard to get you on it with him, looking far too handsome with pink cheeks and snowflakes caught in his curls. One smug lift of his brows and you’d been between his spread legs, nestled to his front as you let him push you both down into piles of snow.

And now, alone with you in the twilight, he grew braver, grabbing at your waist to pull you in tighter, letting his frozen nose skim at the space between your hair and woollen hat. The sky was pink even though the sun was long gone, a deep, dusty rose with huge clouds, the kind of sky that promised more snow.

“If we fall off, you owe me a hot chocolate, Munson.”

Eddie snorted, pulling you against him, closer still. He arched his hips, pushing into your ass and even though he couldn’t see your face from your position, you bit down on a grin.

He wasn’t as smooth as he thought.

“Sweetheart, I’m wounded.” Eddie placed a ringed hand against his heart. “You think I’d let my girl fall?”

You shrugged, a barely seen move under your bulky winter jacket but you squirmed all the same, bum shifting backwards on the cheap backwards sledge until you heard Eddie stifle a grunt.

There was too much between you both, thick denim jeans and the tails of scarves, layers of wool and cotton. But still, you felt something - someone - twitch against the small of your back, just curving over your ass.

You snorted, covered it up with a cough and then made a show of leaning forward, as if peering over the edge of the stupidly high hill Eddie had perched you both on. “That’s like, a ninety degree angle, Eddie.”

It was Eddie’s turn to laugh. “And everyone says I’m dramatic,” he tsked. “Here, just hold onto me, s’fine.”

So you wiggled your way back into the boy, into the cradle of his hips, shifting and sighing until your ass was pressed into his crotch and you were more sure than ever that you could feel his cock pressed against you. You pretended to stretch, moaning slightly at the arch of your back and the click of your neck and you didn’t stop running yourself back onto the boy until he was swearing into your hair.

His hands grabbed at your waist, fingers digging into your jacket.

“Quit it,” he groaned, trying to sound annoyed.

“Edward Munson,” you gasped, theatrical as your boyfriend liked to be. You peered over your shoulder at him, at his flushed cheeks and heavy lidded eyes. “Are you hard right now?”

“As a fuckin’ rock, sweetheart,” Eddie admitted with zero shame, even less hesitation.

“This is a public space,” you tutted, ignoring the way he glared at you.

“It’s your fuckin’ fault—”

“There’s a kids play park not even a stones throw—”

He was scowling now, face beetroot. “Hey, you started this! With your wiggling ‘n squirming about ‘n shit.”

“You’re diabolical,” you whispered, all faux outrage. But your eyes were glittering. “What I’m I gonna do with you?”

Eddie grinned and he didn’t notice the snow start to fall again. He blinked down at you, brown eyes full of mischief. “Take me home and fuck me, hopefully.”

“Eddie!”

But he was already moving, lifting himself up from the sledge and he laughed when you squealed, the shift in weight making the red plastic tip. Your ass landed in snow, the strip of exposed skin between your jeans and your jacket shocked with the cold.

“First one to the van gets to come first,” the boy declared and by the time you got your bearings, Eddie was half way down the hill, curls flying as he kicked up snow behind him.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #EAC23

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xoxoxkisses · 24 days ago

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Snowman

Warnings: none

muichiro x reader

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As you were making breakfast, you happen to look out the window. To your surprise it was snowing. You loved the snow, I mean you were the snow hashira anyways. A big smile appeared on your face as you finished scrambling an egg.

You practically ran to your room to grab some winter clothes. You quickly grabbed your cotton filled uniform and your winter hat. As you were putting your boots on, you had looked out of your bedroom window. You had been lucky enough to have been gifted an estate overlooking the mountains, and your bedroom had a wall sized window. You watched as the snow covered the mountains and trees, you felt a sense of comfort.

You finished getting dressed and walked outside. Before you could have fun, you had to go to your best friend’s house. Muichiro surprisingly took a liking to you and was always by your side. Luckily, you didn’t live far from him, so your walk wasn’t long. It took about 7 minutes for you to arrive, and to your surprise Muichiro was already outside.

You waved at him as you came up the hill. “Hi mui!” A soft smile crept onto his face when he saw you. He walked halfway to meet you, and when the two of you were face to face he greeted you with a hug. “I figured you’d come, so I went ahead and got ready.” He said as he pulled away. You laughed as you acknowledged how much he knew you. “I came here to build a snowman.” He looked at you puzzled. “A snowman? Y/n we aren’t 5.” You rolled your eyes as you walked past him to begin building.

He quickly followed you and began working on the middle part. You had already finished the bottom part. “How did you already get that done?” You looked up at him. “It’s not hard, you’re just slow.” He chuckled. “Slow? I’m slow?” You nodded. You had turned for a split second before you felt a cold, wet feeling on the back of your head. You turned quickly to be met with the same feeling.

You took your hand to wipe the snow from your face. You saw Muichiro holding a bunch of snowballs with a sly smirk. You grinned as you grabbed a bunch of snow to make snowballs.

The snowman was quickly forgotten as the two of you had broke out in a snowball fight. It was a lot of fun, the two of you laughed at each other, and at yourself.

Somehow the two of you had crept up onto each other, and now you were both face to face. Both of you were breathing heavy and cold. “I never thought I’d say this, but do you want to go inside?” Muichiro sighed. “I never thought you’d ask.” The two of you walked in, and fortunately for you, Muichiro lent you one of his t shirts and pants. The two of you rested on his couch before you both slowly fell asleep.

————————————————————————

I’m finally backkkkk 🥳🥳

#viralpost #demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny muichiro #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro fluff #tokitō muichirō

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sameschmidtdiffname · 9 months ago

Note

I was wondering if you could do a fic with Mike Schmidt x fem!reader and the quote “can I stack donuts on it?” I apologize in advance 😭

THE FUCKING SCREAM I SCRUMPT WHEN I GOT THISSSSSS BITCH YOU GOT ITTTTTT

Cherries & Cream

Mike Schmidt x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a modest holiday. Spent indoors, soft music on the cassette player... oh, and a collection of bad ideas snowballed into a day of sticky situations

Tags: No use of Y/N, author has fucking lost it, comedy, Valentine's Day fic, mentions of failed masturbation attempts, mentions of inappropriate use of lightsabers and water snakes (I SAID AUTHOR HAS FUCKING LOST IT- DONT ASK, JUST READ, IT AINT THAT BAD!), sex toys, handcuffs, sex dice, pre-established relationship, food sex, blowjob, facial, Mike gets restrained like we all know he wants to be.

Notes: I'm not apologizing for shit.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

"These are ridiculous questions."

"Oh, come on. Don't be a sourpuss," I say. Cards are scattered around the small box on our bed, both of us long deciding we'd clean up later.

"What does it say?" I ask him, leaning forward. I'm straddling his chest, my arms crossed against mine, dressed in nothing but one of his shirts. His hand on my hip is halfway under the black material, his pointer finger twisting the old cotton around his digit. His other hand holds a dark purple card that he rolls his eyes at before shifting them to focus on me towering over him.

"It doesn't even apply to you," he says.

"And how do you know?" I say smugly.

"Because I've sucked your dick and it's not big enough to apply," he says

"What? Give me that." I snatch the card from his hand, ignoring his laughter as he shifts his hand to rest on my other hip, rubbing soothing circles into my skin while I read.

'What's the weirdest thing you have ever stuck your dick in?'

A short laugh escapes me, a bit louder than it should be with Abby sleeping peacefully down the hall.

"I'm waiting," Mike jokes, smiling up at me with his lips twisted into a smug expression of sarcasm.

"I mean, I stuck a toy lightsaber up my snatch once," I say casually.

"What?" He bellows, descending into a fit of laughter so grand his chest is rattling underneath of me, making my face bloom with blood in embarrassment.

"I was fourteen!" I say quickly in my defense. This doesn't help my case, making him cackle loud enough I grab a pillow to shove onto his face to muffle his fit. He grabs my wrists before it can descend, holding them up as he wheezes.

"Oh, Qui-Gon Jin! You're my only hope!" He relaxes his grip slightly, allowing me to stiffle his incessant noise.

"That was Obi-Wan, and I liked Darth Vader!"

His hands shove the pillow away from his red face, eyes teary and judgemental.

"He's burnt!"

"It was the vibe! Mysterious, dark, and that voice!" I protest. Mike makes a pitiful attempt at the sounds of Vader's breathing through his mask, muddled with spit from his laughter. "James Earl Jones has a handsome voice!"

"It's just so hot," Mike cackled.

"Mike."

"Nothing can hold a candle to it."

"Michael."

"Makes me go-" a crude imitation of lightsaber noises is the last thing Mike can communicate before I'm slamming the pillow down on him, making him laugh harder and block his face from my playful blows as he begs for mercy.

"You're a dick!"

"You'd stick yours in one of those- those-" as he regains his breath and I lessen my attacks, he snaps his fingers, one hand slapping gently against my thigh for thought.

"Oh, you know. One of those fucken- the uh..." He makes a jerking motion with his snapping hand, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling like the answer is written on the spot where some poster used to be.

"A hand?" I ask, crossing my arms and glaring down at him.

"No. One of those toys that had like water in them and you could like- I don't know what the point of them was, some sensory thing. There was like water, maybe fish or sparkles stuffed inside," he describes, gesturing his hand as he speaks.

The image begins to click together in my mind. "Oh yeah. Water snakes?" I ask. He slaps my thigh, snapping his fingers and pointing at me with wide eyes.

"That's the fucker. Yeah, you'd stick your dick in that," he says confidently, nodding and relaxing in satisfaction with his statement.

"Okay, but you can like slide those things in and out so honestly that's kind of genius," I say.

"That plastic burns like a motherfucker though. And it's got those seams for the plastic so lube doesn't help," Mike says, one arm curled above his head and his other hand once more rubbing my hip.

"That's descriptive," I say with narrowed eyes. I lean forward, my face hovering above his. His relaxed hazel eyes widen slightly, but only by a hair. His rubbing stutters. His body language is still casual, but has stiffened enough to betray him.

"Just a thought."

"How old were you?"

"I did not- fifteen."

It's my turn to snicker now, picking my pillow back up and smacking him once more in the head.

"Okay, okay. Teenagers are idiots. Next card, next card," he says laughing, hand now searching for a new card from the deck. "Oh my God. What food item would you use during sex- babe, where the fuck did you find this game?"

"It was some dirty Santa gift, got it a couple years ago," I say with the wave of my hand. "Anyways, it's my turn to ask the question."

"Oh right. Pick a new one," he says, flicking the card away.

"Well, hang on now. On the topic of poor sexual choices and food, what would you use for that?" I ask, smirking and crossing my arms across my chest once more. He glares at me, lips pressed firmly together as he narrows his eyes. There's a long silence, neither of us speaking as we decide who's going to break it.

"Donuts," he finally says.

"Donuts?"

"Yeah. They have the hole," he adds as if it explains everything.

"Uh huh."

"Okay, you used a fucking lightsaber, you cannot-"

"I was fourteen, you are twenty-eight. What happens if you squeeze the thing too hard and you've just got crumbs and frosting all over you?" I ask.

"I wouldn't fuck the damn thing. I'd, like, stack them," he clarifies. "Do it like one of those really cheesy porno bits like 'did someone order some food?' And just rip open the trenchcoat to reveal several donuts stacked on my dong."

"Michael, you've put a weird amount of thought into this."

"It's the fucking question!"

"Okayokayokay- so hypothetically," I begin.

"Mm-hmm."

"If I brought home a box of donuts-"

"Nice ones. Krispy Kreme or some shit, I'm not getting sugar in my shit if it's cheap," he insists.

"...glad to know. If I brought home a box of overpriced donuts and a trench coat-"

"Take the coat out, that was a bit."

"Will you let me finish?"

"That'd be the preferred outcome," he interrupts again. "But like, before the donut thing. If it was like, y'know." He thrusts his hips into the air slightly, not to be arousing but to clarify. Because that's the part he can't say out loud. "'Cause you can't get sugar in your snatch."

"You can't get sugar in your snatch," I repeat slowly, blinking.

"Don't ask."

"Right. So if I brought home the Kreme-y goods, you would present yourself to me with a donut dick?" I ask. He rolls his eyes, suppressing a smile.

"Sure."

Valentine's Day. A day for kids and new couples, mainly. And since this household is aging out of both of those demographics, Mike and I had decided to go smaller this year. Not that we went huge every year before, neither of us feeling quite like blowing a shit load of cash on the day. But usually we booked a reservation at a decent restaurant, put on some nicer clothes, and spent the holiday just having a nice family dinner. But Abby was old enough she was itching to attend some sleepover at a friend's house for the holiday, and Mike and I felt fine just ordering in and playing a card game that we usually thumbed through while bored.

"Do 12 year olds even get valentines?" Mike asks, sprawled upon the bed the night before.

"I don't know, I didn't," I shrug. "She's just visiting her friends and wearing pink so they can gorge on chocolate, sounds like a good holiday to me."

He considers this, scratching his jaw as he continues staring at the ceiling.

"Valentine's Day alone. What trouble we could cause," he teases.

"What food are we ordering in for the trouble, anyways?" I ask, looking up from the box of my things I'd been unpacking, hanging up pictures and placing knick knacks around the room and new desk we'd shoved in earlier that evening.

"Chinese?" He asks.

"Gas for Valentine's Day, I'll love that," I say. He laughs. "How about Italian?"

"Makes me bloated, you'll be top," he says. "What are we doing in that department? I mean, we probably should do something."

"You say that like sex is a chore," I say with a raised brow, looking up at him for a moment from the box.

"Oh, hell no," he says. "If that's a chore than it's my favorite."

"Chores typically bring you closer to God."

"Than I'm smokin' it with Jesus, fuck yeah."

At that I laugh, tossing a small box at him that rattles with something inside. He catches it, laughing and pulling it open out of curiosity.

"Oh ho! What are these?" He asks, holding up a small, hot pink cube.

"Oh Jesus, I thought I lost those. They're-"

"Sex dice!" He laughs. "You whore!"

"I'm not a whore, I just went to college!" I laugh defensively. His eyebrows raise.

"Popular?"

"Fuck off," I groan. "My ex bought those, I just kept them."

Mike rolls the dice in his hands, actually sitting up and crossing his legs on the bed before sending them flying across the quilt.

"Suck toe," Mike reads. "That's disappointing."

"We never used toe, we always just picked a different spot," I say.

"Like?" He asks.

"I don't know, it varied. I guess it was kinda a pick your poison spot," I say. "You wouldn't believe how often it lands on toe."

"The universe is trying to tell you something," he says.

"The universe can suck it," I say. Mike rolls one of the dice again.

"Tit. Nice. I'll be acting as ambassador for said universe sucking-"

"You'll be acting as helping me unpack these dresses," I say, setting the box on the bed in front of him. He stands with a sigh, hands on his hips as he awaits his work. I take out a few dresses and lay them in his arms before returning to my work of organizing the closets.

"Hold 'em," I say.

"Just hold them?"

"Yeah."

"You made me get up for this?"

"Before you find the handcuffs in there? Yeah," I say.

"Handcuffs? We've been together for three years, you're moving into my house and now I'm finding out you have handcuffs?" Mike asks incredulously.

"I didn't know that would upset you," I say honestly, shrugging.

"Upset? I've been deprived! You're a freak and haven't taken it out on me!" He says overdramatically. I roll my eyes but smile.

"I'm not a freak, I've only slept with like, two other guys. That's it," I say.

"So the guys were freaks," he says.

"I mean, I wasn't saying no," I admit.

"So you're a freak when asked?"

"You sound like a teenager."

"I sound like a guy who's gonna be home alone with his girlfriend and sex toys tomorrow, yeah, I sound like a teenager," he says.

"Oh, so we're ordering in and banging all night?" I ask, raising a brow in amusement.

"Was that not the plan already?" He asks.

"I wasn't gonna say it, but if you want to."

The night was spent laying out plans of debauchery. After dropping off Abby in the early afternoon at her friends the next day, Mike and I made a slight detour before heading home, where the items were laid out before us.

Whipped cream. Donuts. Handcuffs. Dice. And some cheap, bottom of the $5 bin collection of 'Top 100 Sexy Songs for Valentine's Day' cassette tape that Mike had grabbed from a local music store during our trip.

"Do you ever question the things we do while bored?" Mike asks, staring at the ceiling, butt naked and handcuffed to the bedframe while I straddle his thighs, trying to figure out how exactly I'm gonna do this.

"Do you?" I ask, pinching his soft tip between my fingers.

"I'm starting to," he says, glancing at the can of whipped cream that was starting to sweat on the bedside table beside us. "I had questions before I shaved my junk for this, but I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Good. Keep that philosophy, I think I figured it out," I say, finally leaning for the box of glazed donuts we'd hardly been able to act mature about buying while going through the drive through. We're not seeing the gates of heaven.

"Shouldn't you get me hard first? It's just gonna grow," he says in questioning, trying to look down at what I'm doing.

"No, because then I'll have to keep you hard and that's gonna deflate quickly," I say. He nods in agreement, satisfied and sighing in slight boredom as I begin my task, trying to get the first donut on without breaking.

"Ow! Are- are you trying to fucking fold my shit?" He asks, his voice slightly higher than it was a moment ago.

"You're bigger than the hole, it's gonna break the donut! It's soft, isn't it?" I ask.

"Not that soft!" He says a bit frantic.

"Okay, what if I stretch it out like this?" I ask, tugging his dick upwards.

"I'm gonna ask you not to!" Mike says. His thumbs find the latches for the handcuffs, undoing one so he can reach down himself. "Jesus Christ- you're gonna break me!"

"This is my job," I say amused, giggling as I cover my mouth with my hand.

He ignores me, examining himself and the donut before glaring at the corner of the room, sighing.

"Motherfucker, I've been blessed, goddammit," he groans.

"What a humble statement," I say, trying not to laugh.

"This is humbling enough. Do what you will, I guess," he says, flopping back onto the bed, donut in hand and taking a bite from it as he crosses his ankles beneath me.

"I need that," I say.

"There's eleven more, this is my consolation prize," he says through his mouthful, returning his glare to the ceiling.

"You gonna redo the handcuff?" I ask.

"I'll redo your fucken dad," he snaps, but shoves the rest of the donut in his mouth as he fiddles with the handcuffs once again, groaning as I start on my work.

It takes half an hour, four donuts and a ridiculous amount of whipped cream, but the deed is done. Stepping off the bed, I behold my work of a restrained, glaring, donut stacked and cream covered Mike with a proud smile.

"This was exponentially hotter in my head," he mutters, looking down at himself.

"You don't like it?" I ask.

"I didn't say that, I'm just not drooling over- where are you going?" He asks. I quickly dart out of the room, racing to the kitchen as a series of 'babe?' Rings throughout the house. I open the fridge quickly, find the box of cherries and race back into the bedroom, holding it up as though it were a crown jewel.

"Ohh, my fucking God," Mike loudly drawls, rolling his eyes.

"I almost forgot," I say with malicious glee.

"I wish you had," he says, staring at the ceiling. "You're sick in the head."

"This was your idea."

"I'm sick in the head, I repent, I repent."

Placing a fat cherry carefully on top of the fluffy tip, I smile in true satisfaction.

"Perfect," I say, hands working to undo my house robe, shrugging it off and leaving me in simple lingerie instead.

"Now you faceplant into my dessert dick. Delicious," he deadpans.

"Mike, if you really don't wanna do this-"

"I'm gonna get a fucking UTI, just fulfill the high school fantasy already. I'll have no shame once I'm hard," he spits out quickly, jerking against the restraints slightly in impatience.

Well, that's true enough.

I lean forward, trying to figure out where to start, deciding between bottom or top.

"Babe, this is mortifying, just do some- oh-kay," Mike groans, his hips shifting slightly as I gently suck one of his freshly shaved balls into my mouth, my tongue swirling around it as I grip his thighs. The stack shifts slightly, Mike moaning as he thrusts against nothing.

My mouth works his sack for a little bit, one of my hands trailing down to between his legs to press against the spot behind his balls, making him keen into my touch as he moans loudly, the handcuffs clicking against the frame of our bed as he squirms. When I'm sure he's hardened properly underneath, I remove my mouth, making him whine as I glance up at him, smiling.

"Doing good?" I ask sweetly, pressing my fingers harder into the spot between his legs.

"Still mortifying, just keep going," he moans shamelessly, his cheeks red as he keeps his eyes closed in embarrassment.

I lean down once more, licking at the melting whipped cream on the tip of his cock, his moans growing louder as my tongue finds contact with his cock, his skin cold and wet underneath of the cream. I'm barely able to reach his actual tip, my tongue sticking down far in the hole of the top donut. I begin biting into the food, quickly tearing away at my work in eagerness of what awaits.

There's probably a special place in Hell reserved for the two of us for doing something like this and enjoying it, but I promise you, if you could see the look on his face right now, blushing wildly and trying to hide behind the bulk of his large arm, it would be worth it.

Once the first two donuts are gone I take off the cherry from the top, dangling it over his mouth in teasing.

"Want some?" I ask. He just groans in response, his cock twitching from neglect. I chuckle, tossing the fruit away and quickly taking him into my mouth, drawing a sharp, high moan from him as I suck eagerly, admiring the taste of his skin mixed with the sweet sugar from the food.

Yeah. Definitely worth it.

Pre-cum shoots into my mouth as he rolls his hips into my face, my hand still working against him as I swirl my tongue around his tip, sucking harshly as I watch him. His back arches against the bed, his head thrown back in pleasure as he loses himself in the feeling of my mouth against him.

"Go deeper," he begs, his voice soft as he bucks into my mouth, his arms straining against the handcuffs. "Holy shit, please go deeper."

His hips buck harshly against my face, smashing the two other donuts and an annoying amount of cream into my face, covering me in a facial I didn't ask for.

I pull away from him, stopping my hand and just staying still for a moment to allow him a proper look at my face.

"... I do not like this," I deadpan. I'd blink if I could open my eyes right now.

Small whines escape him as his hips continue moving, questions being voiced then everything ceasing all at once as I guess he takes a good look at me. There's a moment of silence, then he bursts out laughing at the sight, loud and obnoxious.

"It's in your hair!" He exclaims, probably wishing he could point at me as I blindly search for the hand towel nearby.

"I hope this was worth it," I say flatly, suppressing my own giggle.

"Oh, the feeling is awful, but you're doing great," he says sweetly, still chuckling as he watches me wipe at my face, groaning at the stickiness of it all.

"Jesus, I'm a mess," he says, looking down at himself. "Can we just take that off and-"

"Yeah, normal blow job, on it," I finish for him, quickly taking off the other two, very smushed donuts and discarding of them inside the box. "You have horrible ideas "

"You wanted us to try new shit, this is not on me," he laughs, smiling at me. "But thank you for answering a decade old question."

"You're weird," I say.

"Just fuck me," he says back.

Quickly I take him back into my mouth, deepthroating him and encouraging him to fuck my mouth, focusing on my breathing as he does with blind obedience. His thighs press against the sides of my head, squeezing slightly as his tip rams into the back of my throat, all gentleness off the table. My tongue slides against his prominent vein, feeling how he throbs, his cock stiff and twitching from the stimulation. He pants loudly, whining when I press my tongue harder into his vein, a loud 'snap' echoing from near his head.

His movements cease for a moment, his chest heaving as realization crosses his face.

"... the handcuffs weren't expensive, right?" He asks inbetween gasps, holding up his hands to show the cheap cuffs now hanging uselessly around his wrists.

My eyebrows raise in surprise, my head beginning to lift off of him when one of his hands comes down on my head, suddenly gripping my hair as he begins to fuck my mouth with new vigor, tearing lewd sounds from my throat as I gag sharply around him.

"Fuck it, I'll buy another pair," he decides, slamming quickly into my throat as he pulls my hair sharply, his pre-cum beginning to thicken in my mouth. "It's not like you mind, right, sweetheart?" He asks, propping himself up with one arm to watch as I swallow his dick eagerly, one of my hands dipping down to play with my clit. He tugs sharply at my hair, making me whine as his other hand smacks quick and gentle against my hollowing cheek before pointing at me.

"No," he says sharply. "I'll deal with you after."

His hand strokes my cheek as he continues fucking my face, his thumb trained on my chin, keeping my mouth open wide for him. His eyes are glazed over in pleasure as he watches me, my spit dribbling down my chin as I take him, my legs pressed tightly together as I grab blindly at his thighs, admiring the thickness as I gag on his cock.

"Fuck- you're so pretty," he moans, his cock twitching in closeness. "And kind." I moan appreciatively around him, eager to feel his cum down my throat as I dig my nails into his thighs. "Don't know how I got so lucky."

His hand roughly drags my head up by my hair, forcing me off of his cock and making me whine as I try to take him back into my mouth. His hand wraps around his length, pumping quickly as he watches me.

"Keep your mouth open, pretty girl," he commands softly. I obey, sticking out my tongue slightly, eager to please. He smiles at the sight, his lashes fluttering shut once more as he fucks his hand quickly, using my thick spit as lube, beginning to lose rhythm.

"I'm gonna cum," he warns breathily. "I'm gonna- fuck!"

His words stutter as he gasps, his hand squeezing roughly at his cock as his cum hits my face, warm and thick against my skin. We watch each other as the first few ropes cover my face, admiring the other in a hazy cloud of desire and satisfaction. Then he shoves his cock back into my mouth, his hand pumping me up and down his length again as he finishes shooting his load down my throat, admiring my new look.

"I'm just- gonna do this for awhile," he gasps, his cock still stiff in my mouth as his flow of cum begins to slow, his hips still quick in contrast.

I moan around him, my cunt clenching in want.

"Don't worry," he says, reaching for something in the nightstand, pulling open a drawer and revealing his new gift for me. "You'll get some fun too."

When I tell y'all this motherfucker somehow found a dildo shaped like a fucking lightsaber.

Goddammit, I'm gonna marry him.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

You heard me.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

how would y'all feel if I told you the title was a pun from that old 'berries and cream' meme

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merakiui · 6 months ago

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wait romcom with floyb??? 🥺

:D yes!!! It’s a lighthearted story in which you and Floyd (total opposites) meet on a whim and snowball into a wild relationship of push and pull. Floyd does the pushing (he’s obnoxious and annoying, the worst headache in the best way) while you do the pulling (avoiding him out of fear of getting too close to someone). But according to the law of magnetism, who you are is who you attract. :) perhaps you and Floyd aren’t so different after all~~

I’m having so much fun writing Reader and Floyd’s dynamic. They’re so silly. >w< their theme songs are definitely “Hot” by Confetti and “cotton candy” by YUNGBLUD. <3

#twisted chit chat #hot girl summer? i only know hot floyb summer #hehehe rom-com floyb is so cute

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drarryspecificrecsdaily · 7 months ago

Text

2024.05.08

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. The Long Way Home by HeadWig [M, 5k]

►The sun sets over London, cotton-candy pink and blue against steel and glass. It belongs to everyone, and Harry watches it through floor to ceiling windows that never open.

2. Of Love And Betrayals by MDGR [E, 5k]

►Draco returns home after a horrible day at work, only to find his son in misery. Comforting him, however, brings pain of long gone past - pain that Draco tried his best to forget.

3. Tastes Like Commitment by Reloumi [E, 21k]

►Harry may have been a little listless and unsure of what he was doing with his life. He had more money than he ever needed, and he just made people angry when he tried to give them money to help out. He understood why, of course, but he felt like an asshole because he had the ability to help so many people. So he had to be sneaky with his help, and it started when he bought the bookshop, which seemed to snowball after that. [...]

---

Fest/Exchange

1. Romancing the Dragon by Anonymous [E, 34k]

►Harry Potter writes romance novels from the comfort of his London townhouse with the assistance of his beloved cat, Juliet. He does not engage in rescue missions, talk to dragons, or develop feelings for Draco Malfoy. That would be absurd. ★ Lights Camera Drarry 2024 | @lcdrarry

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #daily list #2024 #2024.05

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wildbeautifuldamned · 9 months ago

Text

Miniature Bells, Drops, Snowballs. Seven early spun cotton German ornaments. ebay noeklbob

#ornament #christmas ornament #cotton #bell #snowball

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bruh-changbin · 2 years ago

Text

ivy league

pairing: uni boyfriend!hyunjin x afab reader

genre: fluff + smut (minors dni)

warnings: fingering (f receiving), public sex, lowkey exhibitionism, oral sex (m receiving), snowballing (tis’ the season), little bit of cum eating, unprotected sex (be safe), piv, creampie, tit sucking, both are kinda switches?, alcohol consumption

word count: 5.8K

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR MOFOS!!! my new years resolution is to find out why hyunjin is so fucking hard to write for 😻 maybe it’s bc his personality is kinda all over the place or maybe i just suck but anyways i hope i did him justice. (also for the sake of this fic pls pretend he still has long brown hair bc that was my fav look on him ever)i do apologize as this was supposed to be posted right after new years but i have been a busy busy gal as of late. nevertheless, i hope you enjoy (also apologies if this posts weird tumblr is being A MAJOR PAIN IN THE ASS AS I TRY TO EDIT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

photos not mine, credit to original owners (retrieved from pinterest)

studying away from home was always a dream of yours. there’s something so enticing about living and learning in a new city that piques your interest. when you got an acceptance letter from an ivy league school a few hours away from your hometown, you didn’t think twice before enrolling.

only then did you find out that 90% of the student body at ivy league schools - or any high status campus, really - are insufferable. there are wannabe jane austen’s and christopher nolan’s at every turn, griping about how getting a 98% on their most recent paper just isn’t good enough (news flash: it is).

ergo, every time you’ve tried to befriend someone you met in the student centre or library or in one of your lectures you’ve discovered they’re too obsessed with their status to even hold a proper conversation with you. there’s only one person who makes studying here at least somewhat bearable: hwang hyunjin.

you met hyunjin in september, a mere 2 days before classes were set to begin for the fall semester. it was somewhat unfortunate, your first encounter, seeing as it entailed you spilling your iced french vanilla all over hyunjin’s silky white button up top. you were trying to shove your wallet back into your bag as you left a coffee shop and he was enthralled in his phone, both of you too distracted to notice the other before colliding.

you both apologized profusely, you for being careless and him for being in the way (he wasn’t) until you insisted he came to your apartment to get cleaned up since it’s only a 3 minute walk away, i feel horrible for ruining your clothes.

he complied, and you led him to your small studio apartment, giving him some privacy to shower and steal whatever clothes in your closet that fit him.

when he stepped out of your bathroom, hair still damp and skin glowing, the rounds of i’m so sorry’s started up again as you handed him back his shirt, now with a large coffee stain on the chest that even your tide pen couldn’t tackle. he grabbed his shirt before chuckling, revealing that he too was a frequent customer of the cafe you were at and often opted to go there instead of indulging in the overpriced shit they sell on campus.

upon discovering that you were both students at the same university you got to talking, which led to hyunjin staying for dinner at your place, which led to an impromptu make-out session on your second-hand couch. when you made it known that you wanted to take things further, he initially declined because hey, i’m not that kind of guy. in the end he couldn’t keep his hands off of you and you were more than happy to lead him down the hallway to your bedroom.

soon after he had you writhing under your cotton bed sheets while making you cum on his tongue… and his fingers and his cock. his shaggy, shoulder length mocha hair felt like silk in between your fingers and the whines and whimpers he let out when you tugged on it sounded like heaven.

so, your first encounter with hyunjin was a catastrophe turned fuck session turned we should do this again sometime…

now it’s the heart of winter and you’re about to sock your boyfriend in the jaw when you see him leaning against the brick exterior of your lecture hall, the tips of his ears stained cherry red and his breath passing his lips in the form of a cloud.

“hyunjin i told you to stop waiting for me outside of my lecture hall’s, you’re seriously gonna get frostbite!” you emphasize by pinching his frozen ears - he winces.

“what happened to hello? how are you?” he complains before slipping his hand into the pocket of your puffer jacket and intertwining his fingers with yours; his hands are so cold you flinch.

“well sorry i don’t want you to get sick,” you roll your eyes while shoving your headphones into your tote bag, not needing them now that hyunjin has graced you with his presence, “and you know that class always puts me in a bad mood.”

“ahh yes that’s the one with the, what was it, douchey prof and even douchier students, right?”

“that’s the one.” you sniffle, nose going numb from the cold wind biting at your face as you let hyunjin drag you across campus to god knows where.

“well turn that frown upside down, i’m about to treat you to the most romantic study date ever,” hyunjin asserts while pulling you in the direction of the student lounge, careful not to walk too quickly so you don’t slip on the ice hidden underneath the blanket of snow on the ground.

although the trek from your lecture hall to the student common room is quite short, only subjecting you to the outside weather conditions for a mere minute or two, you rejoice when you step inside and regain shelter from the cold. a blast of hot air greets you and hyunjin shakes the snow off of his perfectly styled hair, retracting his hand from your jacket pocket.

the two of you make your way down the corridor before waltzing into the main study area of the student lounge, seating yourself on a worn in brown leather couch.

once your winter jacket is discarded you pull your textbook out of your bag, using your peripherals to watch hyunjin pull out his laptop and begin editing photos for his photography class.

it’s serene; watching the snow fall through the window to your left, feeling the warmth radiating from hyunjin who’s sitting to your right. the feeling of hyunjin’s hand (which is still quite cold) on your knee comforts you and you immerse yourself in the words of your textbook, wanting to catch up on the chapters you were supposed to read for this week but didn’t have the time or patience to.

alas, you should’ve known that hyunjin had… other intentions when he said he was taking you on the most romantic study date ever. it only takes a few minutes before you feel his hand inching its way up your leg.

his eager fingers dance across your thigh before groping your pelvis, causing you to clamp your legs shut in surprise, trapping your boyfriend’s hand in between them.

“are you fucking kidding me hyunjin? we’re in public…”

hyunjin scans the vicinity of the student lounge, which, admittedly, there are only two other students present, both so absorbed in their respective textbooks that they’re practically drooling. but that doesn’t mean you’re about to let him finger bang you in a public area in front of your fellow students.

“what, you don’t wanna show everyone how well you take my fingers?” by now his index and middle fingers are playing with the waistband of your panties, waiting for you to give the go ahead before dipping underneath.

“come on, let me play with you.”

try as you may, you can’t resist the twisting of your stomach and the pitter-patter of your heart at hyunjin’s words. by now your pussy is leaking indefinitely and you shift in your spot in a pathetic attempt to alleviate the dull throbbing you feel in your pelvis.

the more you squirm the more pressure you feel from hyunjin’s hand trapped in between your thighs, the heel of his palm pushing against your cunt that’s becoming more sensitive by the second.

a pleasure induced haze clouds your brain and soon enough you’ve convinced yourself that hyunjin fingering you in the student lounge is in fact a good idea. it’s not like anyone can see you, right? you’re sandwiched between the wall and hyunjin, who’s broad shoulders block you from the curious gaze of others - no one would be the wiser.

with a bashful look on your face you ease your legs open, granting hyunjin access to your sticky panties and aching clit. the dexterity in which hyunjin’s hand pushes past your waistband and into the dripping folds of your cunt almost gives you whiplash.

like the little bitch he is he teases you for several moments, the tip of his index finger drawing lazy circles around your clit before gliding down to your hole and then back up again, never giving you what you actually want.

you know hyunjin’s enjoying watching you twitch and shift in your seat as he plays with your cunt; even more so does he enjoy watching you bite back a frustrated whine when he pulls his hand from you entirely, takes a second to coat his digits in his own saliva by sucking on them, and shove his hand back down your pants.

with help from hyunjin’s makeshift lube his slender spit-covered fingers slip inside of you with little resistance, causing your stomach to flutter and churn. the stretch is subtle yet pleasurable and your body automatically folds in on itself: head hung low, knees knocking together, back hunched.

if anyone were to walk by they would hopefully assume that you’re just worn out from the end of semester stress and not clue in on the fact that your boyfriend is knuckle deep in your pussy.

hyunjin starts with small movements, his finger gliding in and out of you slowly while curling upwards in a ‘come-hither’ type motion. he’s trying to make his movements as undetectable as possible, struggling against your tight cunt that sucks him in with each and every thrust of his fingers.

lucky for you your lover was blessed with long fingers, ones that reach so deep inside of you with so little effort that it makes the room spin. little shocks rock your body when hyunjin fully sheathes his index and middle fingers inside of you, the cold metal of the rings adorning his fingers a stark contrast to your hot wet pussy.

the pace of hyunjin’s fingers quickens; your bottom lip stings from how hard you’re biting down on it. your breath leaves you in the form of forced exhales through your nose, the urge to say fuck it and moan aloud for all of your peers to hear becoming almost irresistible and you pray that hyunjin’s going to make you finish before you do something you’ll regret.

hyunjin pushes his fingers impossibly deeper into you, the heel of his palm now providing the most delicious friction on your neglected clit. you resist the urge to grind your hips against his hand.

“are you close?” hyunjin whispers, his plush lips caressing the shell of your ear and sending shivers down your spine. how long has his face been that close to yours? you think, but you’re too out of it to turn your thoughts into words. you just nod frantically, eyes rolling backwards as your impending orgasm looms closer and closer.

the sensation of hyunjin’s fingers pistoning in and of you and his palm bumping your clit is enough to quickly send you over the edge, biting the inside of your cheek so hard you can taste the metallic tang of blood against your tongue.

you cream all over his fingers while sucking in a breath so big it hurts your lungs so as to prevent yourself from making any noise. the grip you have on hyunjins wrist goes limp and you wince as he pulls his fingers from you, placing a chaste kiss on your temple as if to say i’m proud of you.

with that hyunjin casually sucks your wetness from his fingers, briefly wiping them on his pants before returning to editing his photos on his laptop. you struggle to regain your focus on the textbook splayed out in front of you, the pages swimming before your eyes as the pleasure in the pit of your stomach slowly subsides.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“i still don’t understand why you were so adamant about using my kitchen to bake instead of yours.”

hyunjin glances up from his phone at your words, his pupils so dark they remind you of tapioca pearls.

“i live with three frat guys, my kitchen is a biohazard.”

ah yes, that’s right. hyunjin’s roommates, although very nice guys who treat you with respect, are frat guys nonetheless. chan is the cleanest of them all, although that's mostly due to him eating out the majority of the time. changbin and jisung however…

you raise your hands in defence, shuddering at the thought of the army of glasses filled with stale protein shakes that greeted you the last time you ventured into hyunjin’s apartment.

upon seeing you wash your hands in preparation for baking hyunjin joins you behind the kitchen counter. his ring-clad fingers roll up the sleeves of his white long sleeve top before tucking the stray hairs in front of his face behind his ears.

“alright, what are we baking?” he says with his game-face on.

“i was thinking we could do gingerbread… you know, since it’s the holidays.” you begin to search for a recipe on your phone.

hyunjin makes a sour face at this: lips puckered, brows furrowed, eyelids lowered. dramatic. “i don’t like gingerbread,” he states.

“oh? why not?”

“it’s too spicy.”

this motherfucker…

“...spicy? what are you, twelve?”

“i have a sensitive palate!” your boyfriend whines like a toddler.

“shut the fuck up hwang, we’re making gingerbread.”

hyunjin hangs his head in defeat while you trifle through your cupboards for the proper ingredients. soon enough a small pile is formed on your countertop and you begin sorting everything in order to start baking. a slender hand caresses your lower back and you jump slightly.

“you know it kinda turns me on when you’re all authoritative like that…”

of course. leave it to hyunjin to get horny at literally any hour of the day.

“you’re insufferable. does hyunjin jr. ever take a day off?”

hyunjin scoffs, “he does, actually. remember the day you were so swamped with the paper you were writing and me, being the best boyfriend ever, had the decency to not try to get in your pants so you could focus?”

“wow, so chivalrous.”

hyunjin playfully shoves your head and then pats your hair as if to assure you his teasing is all in good fun (you know it is).

for someone who was so adamant about baking for the holidays, hyunjin is incredibly inept in the kitchen. first he adds baking powder to the mixing bowl instead of baking soda, then proceeds to knock over your precious bottle of pure vanilla extract, followed by him getting molasses on his tongue and wailing in disgust because it tastes like straight ass! this is all tied together by him spilling flour all over your countertops because why the fuck not.

“remind me to never allow you to have access to my kitchen ever again,” you huff in frustration while rolling out your batter, a thin layer of sweat forming on your upper lip.

“why? I’m having fun… are you not having fun?” a cheeky grin is plastered across his face as he places his hand on the flour-covered counter before smacking your ass so hard you shriek. whipping your head around, you gape at the perfect flour handprint imprinted on the seat of your favourite pair of pants.

“WHAT THE FUCK HYUNJIN!!???” you shove his chest before frantically dusting the flour off of your rear. hyunjin can’t seem to control his laughter.

“payback!” he says cheerily while wiping his hands on the hem of his shirt. by now the smell and taste of flour has filled the air of your kitchen.

“payback for what you dipshit??”

he smiles, “for when you spilled coffee on my shirt.”

“are you fucking kidding me hwang? that was like four months ago!” you return to kneading the dough in front of you, although now you do so with much more aggression, “need i remind you that the coffee incident is how we met in the first place?”

“i knowww~” his palm glides across your upper back in a soothing motion before he rests his chin your your shoulder, “i’m just teasing.”

you bite back a smile before glancing at hyunjin perched on your shoulder, his squishy cheeks matching the soft gaze of his eyes. domestic bliss. you continue to knead the dough in front of you until it’s ready to be rolled out.

when you turn to look at hyunjin again he’s leaning into you even more, pink lips puckered slightly and eyelids closed causing his lashes to grace the tops of his cheeks.

you throw flour in his face.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s new years eve and you don’t know what to wear.

“just throw on something skimpy and call it a day,” jeongin says through the speaker of your phone, “you’re supposed to be here in like an hour, remember?”

“i can get ready in an hour,” you respond while holding various garments up to your body and gazing at your reflection in the mirror. so many options, so little time.

“i don’t know about that y/n, remember halloween?”

you do remember halloween. more specifically, you remember jeongin whining and bitching for the entirety of the two and a half hours it took for you to transform yourself into ty lee from avatar: the last airbender. it was worth it though, you looked exactly like her.

“come on, that was a one time thing. i’ll be at your place on time!” you whine while tossing an unworthy crop top onto the pile of clothes on your floor that’s steadily increasing.

“i don’t know y/n you’re pretty indecisive and-” you hang up on him, not wanting to hear him bitch and whine about your inability to make even the most minuscule decisions.

it takes you half an hour to choose the perfect outfit, and then another half hour to do your makeup and hair, followed by a fifteen minute stare-down with your reflection in the mirror as you question everything. is this really the best look i can come up with? your head hurts and you haven’t even started drinking yet.

“y/n~” hyunjin whines from his place in the living room, “are you almost ready?”

you give him a half-assed yea before exiting your bedroom, giving yourself and your outfit one final check in the mirror.

in preparation for tonight’s celebration you helped hyunjin bleach and dye his hair a shade of icy blue last night, almost permanently damaging his bathroom sink and counter in the process. his now cerulean mane matches the blue of his denim jacket that has an eye-catching collar lined with fluffy white fur (faux of course - no animal cruelty here). his pants are denim as well, a quintessential canadian tuxedo, and just a hint of silver glitter is detectable on his eyelids. you could eat him right the fuck up.

“you look cute,” you purr before waltzing over to your boyfriend and standing in front of where he’s sat on the couch.

“as do you,” his eyes scan your body, “the five hours it took you to get ready paid off.”

“i did not take five hours to get ready hwang, you’re just impatient.” you pat his leg as if to say get off your ass, it’s time to go, prompting him to push himself off of his couch and over to the coat rack by his front door.

“this coat totally clashes with my outfit,” you complain as you pull on your thick puffer jacket.

hyunjin feigns sympathy, “it’s either that or you freeze. come on, chan’s wondering why we’re not there yet.”

hyunjin all but yanks you out the door, locking it behind him before the two of you step onto the bustling city streets that are teeming with people searching for a place to drink and celebrate.

arriving at jeongin’s a mere couple of hours before midnight, you rid yourself of your chunky winter coat and start to mingle with the rest of the crowd. hyunjin, despite knowing more people at the party than you, stands behind you like a lost baby sheep for the entire night, waiting for you to loop him into whatever conversation you’re having.

you briefly speak with jeongin, who teases you for arriving late (how he managed to spot you and hyunjin sneaking in later than you said you would arrive is beyond you) and then encourages you to get a drink and ‘let loose’.

in the kitchen you help yourself to whatever alcohol you can find - most of the selection isn’t to your liking and you regret not bringing your own drinks from home. nevertheless, you force some pathetic margarita mix down your throat before spotting hyunjin’s roommates, chan, changbin and jisung, in the crowd and heading over to converse with them.

time seems to fly by and soon enough there are only a few minutes left until it’s time to ring in the new year. someone, most likely felix, blasts madonna through the speakers and a livestream of the new york ball drop is displayed on the tv in the living room.

“y/n?”

“yes hyunjin?”

he hesitates, starry eyes looking everywhere but your own, “will you be my new year’s kiss?”

you stifle a laugh; the poor boy looks like he’s about to puke after asking you that so you try your best to play nice.

“of course i will.” you caress your boyfriend's cheek ever so gently, his cheeks turning rosy and flushed as you do so.

around you the cheers from the other partygoers have increased as the countdown displayed on the tv hits the thirty second mark. as the ball descends on the screen your fingers reach for hyunjin, grasping his wrist in excitement as the two of you start to countdown alongside everyone else.

“3….2….1….HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!”

as soon as the clock strikes midnight hyunjin’s pillowy pink lips are attached to yours, capturing you in a heartfelt kiss to celebrate the ending of an old year and beginning of a new one. it would be a crime not to reciprocate so you do, only pulling away when you hear jeongin start to make gagging noises at the two of you over everyone else's cheers.

felix jumps onto the couch and changbin uncorks a bottle of pommery cuvée louise with a celebratory pop!

before you can approach changbin and ask for a glass of champagne that he splurged on for the special occasion, you’re being dragged down the hallway. away from the music and cheering and people and into a dark, empty bedroom; based on the decor you assume it’s felix’s.

the metallic click of a door being shut and locked echoes throughout the empty room and when you turn to face hyunjin pursues you again. away from the curious gazes of bystanders he kisses you with unrestrained passion and lust - a kiss that isn’t just a simple display of affection but a kiss that says i want this to lead to something more.

in the confines of this empty bedroom you allow yourself to melt into his lips, his touch. you inhale his scent and push your tongue past his teeth and into his mouth, tasting a hint of the miller lite he was sipping on earlier on his tongue. with ease hyunjin makes his way down your jaw and to your neck, placing affectionate open mouth kisses against the sensitive skin of your throat. occasionally you feel his canines nip you before his tongue glides over your skin.

“i’ve been wanting to be alone with you since we left the apartment,” hyunjin admits sheepishly, the ends of his hair tickling your ear.

“is that why you spent the entire night hiding behind me?”

like a deer in headlights, hyunjin freezes, “maybe…” you can feel his lips curl into a small smile from where they’re attached to your neck.

not wanting to waste any more time you shove hyunjin off of you, your hands grasping the collar of his denim jacket before dragging it down his shoulders and arms, followed by his shirt. hyunjin follows suit and moves to unbutton his jeans, pulling them down his thick thighs. now he stands in front of you wearing only his briefs, his hard cock straining against the material, the glow from the moon painting his skin a cool shade of blue.

when you step closer to him you can feel his breath fan across your face, watch his eyes swim with curiosity and enamourment, see his chest rise and fall with each and every shaky breath. your fingertips hook into the elastic waistband of his briefs, yanking them down and letting them pool at his ankles before gently guiding him to sit on the bed behind him.

now that hyunjin’s seated you move to kneel in front of him, kissing your way down the soft milky skin of his abs and around his belly button and the insides of his thighs. his cock stands fully erect, and you lick your lips before getting yourself ready to suck him off.

when you first fucked hyunjin all those months ago you were taken aback at how perfect his cock was. not to sound cliche, but it felt as if the two of you were destined to be together with how well he fit inside of your cunt and down your throat. now, you admire him once again before licking him from base to tip.

time is of the essence you think before taking his length in your hot mouth.

over the course of time you’ve spent dating and fucking hyunjin you’ve discovered that he’s very sensitive… and very vocal. as soon as his cock is in your mouth he’s struggling to keep quiet, the veins on his neck tensing and his knuckles white as he grips the bedsheets underneath him. it’s not like anyone would hear him lest they be pressed up right against the bedroom door, but still, he tries his best to preserve at least a little bit of his dignity.

for the sake of your throat you wrap your hand around the base of hyunjin’s dick, opting to jerk what you can’t comfortably fit in your mouth. the soft muscle of your tongue expertly wraps around his length as you begin to bob your head, starting off slow so you don’t overwhelm hyunjin (who already seems to be going into sensory overload).

the movements of your hand are in tandem with those of your mouth, the nails that you got done for new years looking so perfect wrapped around his sensitive cock. small beads of sweat begin to form on your temple as you continue to work hyunjin to his release, not wanting to stop until he’s satisfied. your knees are already starting to ache from being pressed against the cold, hard floor but you pay the discomfort no mind.

above you, hyunjin’s struggling to keep himself under control. he’s been on edge all evening, and now that you’re having your way with him he can’t quite contain his delectation. surely there are other people fucking at this party right now, right? what does it matter if he makes a bit of noise?

fuck dignity, he wants to let you know how good you’re making him feel.

hyunjin’s bottom lip throbs in relief when he releases it from his teeth, allowing his head to fall back while groans of pleasure shamelessly tumble from his mouth.

your ears strain to block out the noises from the ongoing party so you can hyperfocus on every single sound that passes hyunjin’s lips. your lips wrap around his length like a glove, providing him with the most perfect amount of friction. you pick up the pace in order to get him there faster, ignoring the slight cramping in your wrist.

“y/n i-” one of his hands lets go of the duvet and wraps around the back of your head, “i think i’m gonna-” he cuts himself off with a cry of desperation.

with reluctance you pull your lips off of his cock, continuing to jerk him with your mouth agape and tongue sticking out. with a needy, high-pitched moan that he does nothing to try to suppress, hyunjin pumps his load into your waiting mouth.

his cum is pure and white like the snow falling softly outside of the bedroom window. it sits hot and heavy on your tongue as you rise from your spot on the floor, watching with hungry eyes as hyunjin’s pink-stained chest heaves sighs of pleasure before you press your lips to his. both of your mouths open automatically, his tongue slipping past your teeth allowing him to taste himself. your tongues swap semen and saliva and you reluctantly pull away when you need to swallow and regain your breath.

the view of hyunjin panting and covered in a sheen of sweat, his own cum seeping from the corners of his mouth, is a sight to behold. you’ve never laid eyes on anything so sinful yet so holy and beautiful at the same time - your panties become unbearably wet.

hyunjin stares at you with eagle eyes as you rid yourself of your clothing, tossing each garment on top of his so a small pile is formed on the floor.

in one swift move you’re on top of him, knees digging into the firm mattress on either side of his bony hips. without saying a word you line his cock, that’s already semi-hard again, up with the soaked hole of your pussy before sinking down his shaft. the two of you whine and groan into eachothers mouths at the sensation, and you still when your hips are flush with his.

“i don’t… i don’t think i’m gonna last long,” hyunjin whines so pathetically you go weak in the knees. ugh! you wanna lick him all over.

“that’s okay,” you coo while running your fingers through his hair, “just want you to feel good.”

grasping his shoulders for stability, you temptingly grind your pelvis against his. the tip of his cock is nestled deep inside of you that it makes you feel so unbelievably full and content. it’s moments like these where you wish to be consumed by hyunjin, wish to hold him and be in his hold forever and ever.

the slick, wet sounds of you fucking hyunjin raw fill the room, your cunt sucking him deeper and deeper with each and every roll of your hips. your vision goes blurry when he attaches his soft lips to your breast, switching between sucking on it gently and using his tongue to tease your sensitive nipple.

the soft whimpers and please go faster’s that your boyfriend emits encourage you to pick up the pace, your hip bones knocking against his with each gyration. by now your clit is begging for attention so you lower your hand to press quick, somewhat careless circles into it, hissing at the pleasure it provides.

the need to cum begins to creep its way into your senses: your vision becomes spotted and blurry, your legs begin to quiver and shake, the pit in your lower abdomen grows bigger and bigger threatening to swallow you whole. hyunjin continues to sloppily suck on your tit, the sensation going straight to your aching cunt.

no words need to be exchanged in order for each of you to know that the other is close. it’s evident in the way your movements become more frantic desperate and in the way hyunjin’s blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, his jaw going slack against your breast.

a few more movements and you reach your orgasm, muffling a lewd and graphic moan by biting down on hyunjin’s shoulder. for several moments it feels as if you’re on cloud nine. sparks fly behind your closed eyelids and the ringing in your eyes is loud enough to block out the sound of the party (which you almost forgot about) but not the increasingly loud moans coming from hyunjin. you can hear and feel him cumming a few seconds after you, his stomach tensing as he cries out for you.

he spills his seed inside of you and you shudder, feeling incredibly warm and worn out.

with limbs feeling like lead, you lift yourself off of hyunjin before collapsing onto the mattress, the duvet cover immediately clinging to your back that’s damp with sweat. you feel hyunjin’s cum slowly begin to seep out of you and you cringe, knowing that you’re going to have to explain and apologize to felix (or whoever the owner of this room is).

beside you, hyunjin works to get his breathing back under control, his eyes closed with a blissed-out expression on his face.

“i don’t wanna get up,” he whispers into the dark room.

“so don’t.”

the two of you lie there, basking in the post-orgasm bliss that puts you on the verge of sleep. the room smells of sex and sweat and you can’t help the small smile that makes its way onto your face, knowing that there’s no other way you’d rather spend ringing in the new year.

you hear him moving before you feel his touch. the soft tips of his fingers caress your clammy palms before intertwining with yours, an affectionate move that has your cheeks flushing and makes you wonder how did i get so god damn lucky?

if it weren’t for hyunjin your ivy league studies would be filled with empty days and empty nights. you somehow managed to find solace in a sensitive, 5’10” boy who teases you and then whines when you tease him back. on days where the cold seems to be unbearable he keeps you warm with his skin on your skin, his lips on your lips, his heart to your heart.

without him you’d be stuck at a prestigious school filled with prestigious people pursuing a prestigious degree that you’re not sure you even like, yet he somehow makes you forget all of that.

and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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